The night after the gala, the villa was silent except for the soft hum of the wind beyond the glass windows. Diana had gone to rest early, exhaustion from the day sinking into her bones. The way he had stood up for her before everyone… it had stirred something inside her, a mixture of pride and confusion.
She had almost drifted to sleep when she heard it — a faint click, the sound of a door opening somewhere down the hall. She sat up slowly.
"...Hello?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
No answer.
Then, in a flash, the lights cut off. Darkness swallowed the room.
Before she could scream, a rough hand covered her mouth. Another grabbed her wrists, binding them swiftly. Her heart pounded as she struggled, muffled sounds escaping her throat.
"Don't fight, girl," a deep voice hissed into her ear. "Your presence here has caused enough trouble. You'll come quietly, or you'll regret it."
They dragged her through the hallways — quick, practiced, and silent. She caught the faint scent of expensive cologne mixed with something she couldn't name — family.
One of them was from his house.
...
He returned from a late meeting less than an hour later. The second he stepped into the hall, he felt it — the emptiness. Something was wrong. The scent in the air had changed.
"Diana?" he called out.
Silence.
He reached her room, the door half open, the sheets tangled, her scent lingering in the air — mixed with another's. His eyes darkened. His breath grew heavier. His body trembled.
They took her.
Within moments, his rage erupted — primal and sharp. He slammed his fist into the wall, splintering the wood, the beast beneath his skin rising dangerously close to the surface.
> "Find her," he barked to his guards. "Every car, every road, every possible lead. I don't care what it costs."
He knew exactly who was behind it — his father. The old man had made his threat clear, and now he had acted on it.
...
Hours later, in a dark cellar miles away, Diana sat bound to a chair. The air was cold, damp. The men guarding her spoke little, but their words carried enough venom to make her stomach twist.
> "You think you belong in that house? You're a toy. He'll forget you when he finds another."
"Better you disappear now than ruin his bloodline," another sneered.
Tears burned her eyes, but she held them back. She had lived worse before. She wouldn't break now.
...
When he finally found them, it wasn't with a polite knock or a warning.
The doors of the old estate burst open with a crash, his beast's roar echoing through the hallways — deep, raw, terrifying.
His form was already shifting — black fur glinting under the dim lights, eyes burning like molten gold.
The men barely had time to react.
He tore through them like a storm. Growls, screams, the sound of claws against concrete. And then silence.
When he reached her, she was shaking — frightened, but alive.
He shifted back, chest heaving, his hands trembling as he cut through her ropes.
> "You're safe now," he said, his voice rough.
She looked at him, eyes wide, tears spilling freely now. "You came for me."
He pulled her into his arms, his heartbeat still wild. "No one takes what's mine."
But behind his words, there was fear — not of losing his property, but of losing her.
That night, as he carried her back to the car, blood still drying on his knuckles, he made a silent promise:
> No one will ever touch her again. Even if I have to destroy my own family.
...
The car hummed smoothly along the road, tires whispering over the asphalt. Diana sat curled in the passenger seat, still shaken, her hands resting lightly on her belly. He drove in silence, one hand firm on the wheel, the other occasionally brushing against hers — a reminder that she was safe, that he was there.
They arrived at a private, high-tech clinic he personally trusted. The receptionist barely blinked as he passed, the authority in his presence enough to clear the room. He helped Diana from the car, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders.
Inside, the room was quiet, warm — a sharp contrast to the chaos of the last hours. A gentle doctor greeted them, and Diana climbed onto the examination table with a nervous smile.
He stood close, leaning slightly over her, his eyes never leaving her face. Every small movement she made — the way she flinched slightly as the cold gel touched her belly, the way her hands gripped the sides of the table — he noticed.
"Relax," he murmured, voice low, almost purring with reassurance. "Everything's fine. I'm right here."
The doctor switched on the machine, and the soft whirring of the ultrasound filled the room. Diana's breath hitched as she saw the tiny form on the screen, a small shadow in a sea of white.
And then — the heartbeat.
Thump… thump… thump…
Her eyes widened. "I… I can hear it," she whispered, tears prickling at the corners.
He leaned closer, his own chest tightening in disbelief and awe. His hand moved to cover hers, fingers interlacing, grounding her. "That's… our child," he breathed. The word felt strange, heavy, and precious all at once.
The rhythmic pulse of life under her hands left him momentarily speechless. He'd protected her fiercely, fought to keep her safe, and now — this tiny, unstoppable presence was a tangible proof of their bond.
Diana looked up at him, still trembling. "I… I didn't know it would feel like this," she admitted softly. "Like… hope, and fear, and… wonder, all at once."
He cupped her cheek gently, thumb brushing away a stray tear. "It's… incredible," he said. "I didn't think anything could surprise me anymore. But hearing that heartbeat… it's ours. And I swear, nothing — no one — will ever hurt you or this child."
She leaned slightly against him, comforted by the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his presence. For the first time since leaving the sanctuary, she felt truly protected, truly seen — not as someone to control, but as someone to cherish.
The doctor smiled at them, sensing the unspoken intensity. "Everything looks perfect," she said. "The baby is healthy, strong. No complications. Just… keep resting and staying safe."
He didn't let go of her hand as they left the clinic. Back in the car, she rested her head lightly against his shoulder. He drove with a steady focus, but his thoughts lingered on the tiny life inside her, already feeling fiercely protective.
His hand slid instinctively to her belly, fingers brushing against hers again. "You're mine," he whispered softly. "And now, so is this little one. I'll guard both of you with everything I have."
Diana closed her eyes, feeling the weight and warmth of his promise. She was terrified sometimes, yes, but with him — with him watching, protecting, claiming — she felt a rare sense of safety, love, and belonging.
...
The villa was quiet, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows through the windows. Diana sat on the soft couch in their private sitting room, a blanket draped over her legs. He stood nearby, fingers tapping lightly on the armrest as he listened.
From the doorway, his father and a few of the older family members stepped in, their expressions sharp, calculating. Even in human form, their presence carried a weight — a centuries-old authority he was supposed to respect.
"She's carrying our heir," his father began, voice low but commanding, "and this child will need proper guidance. You must understand, everything about its upbringing, its… training, its pairing in the future — it's crucial."
He didn't flinch. His dark eyes narrowed, gaze fixed on his father. "I understand," he said evenly, "but the child's safety and her well-being come first. Not… politics. Not family schemes. Not control games."
A sister stepped forward, her arms folded. "You can't just dismiss tradition. She's from a sanctuary. She doesn't belong in our world fully — she must learn, adapt… be molded."
He shook his head, a sharp motion. "No. She is not property to be molded. She is mine, and so is this child. You will respect that. Any attempt to manipulate, pressure, or endanger them will not be tolerated."
His father's jaw tightened. "You can't simply ignore the family's responsibilities. This child is part of our legacy!"
He stepped closer, dark presence filling the room. "And I am responsible for its life. I will not risk it to satisfy your pride or ego. She will live, she will be safe, and you will stay away from decisions that endanger either of them."
There was a tense pause. Even the air seemed to hold its breath. His father's eyes flicked to Diana, whose hands were clasped tightly on her lap. He stepped protectively closer, placing a subtle but firm hand on her shoulder.
"I am serious," he continued, voice low, dangerous. "Anyone who tries to interfere will answer to me. And that includes family."
Diana looked up at him, awe and relief in her eyes. "Thank you… for standing up for me. For both of us."
He gave her a side glance, just enough for her to catch the intensity in his gaze. "You don't need to thank me. This child, you — you're my priority. The rest… the rest can wait."
His father finally inclined his head, a mix of frustration and begrudging respect in his eyes. "So be it… for now," he muttered, retreating along with the others.
Once the door closed, silence settled over the room. He turned fully to Diana, dropping onto the couch beside her, fingers brushing hers again. "I will never let them manipulate you. Or the baby. Do you understand?"
She nodded, leaning into his side. "I understand. And… I trust you."
A dark, rare smile touched his lips. "Good. Because from now on, you and our child are everything."
He wrapped an arm around her, pressing a gentle, protective kiss to her temple. She rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. Outside, the world — even his family — could schematize and plot all they wanted. But here, inside this room, Diana felt truly safe.
And he knew, more than ever, that he would fight anything and anyone to protect her and their unborn child.