The grand ballroom of the Blackwood Estate was a sea of shimmering silk, sharp tuxedos, and the heavy, metallic tang of Alpha pheromones. For any other woman, this would be a fairy tale. For Ava, it was a minefield.
The midnight-blue dress felt like a second skin—a beautiful, suffocating trap. Every time she breathed, the silk pulled against her abdomen, a constant reminder of the secret she carried. Beside her, Silas was a pillar of cold granite. His hand was clamped firmly on the small of her back, his touch possessing and territorial. To the guests, he was a proud mate; to Ava, he was a predator keeping his prey in check.
"Smile, Ava," Silas murmured, his lips brushing her ear in a gesture that looked intimate but felt like a command. "The Elders are watching. They don't just want a Luna; they want a queen who won't crumble under their gaze."
"I'm trying," Ava whispered, her eyes scanning the crowd. "But it's hard to look regal when I feel like I'm being hunted."
"You are being hunted," Silas replied darkly. "But tonight, you are under my protection. Remember that."
The evening was a blur of forced introductions and predatory stares until the double doors swung open, and the air in the room suddenly turned frigid. Ava felt her blood turn to ice.
Walking in with an arrogant smirk was Marcus—the Beta of the Crimson-Fang pack. The man who had whispered lies into her father's ear. The man who had discarded her like trash after discovering she was 'wolfless.' And the biological father of the child she was desperately hiding.
Marcus didn't just walk; he swaggered, his gaze cutting through the crowd until it landed on Ava. His eyes widened in shock, then narrowed into a malicious glint.
"Alpha Silas," Marcus said, bowing with exaggerated mock-respect. "I heard you'd finally found a stray to fill the empty seat beside you. I didn't realize it was a piece of my own discarded property."
A lethal silence fell over the ballroom. The music died. Ava felt Silas's grip on her waist tighten until it was almost painful. His aura exploded—a wave of pure, crushing dominance that made the weaker wolves in the room bow their heads.
"Marcus," Silas's voice was like the grinding of tectonic plates. "You're brave to speak of property in my house. Especially when referring to my Luna."
Marcus laughed, a harsh, grating sound. He stepped closer, ignoring the warning growl vibrating in Silas's chest. "Luna? Silas, the girl is a rogue. She's a traitor who was exiled for a reason. And from the look of her..." Marcus's eyes dropped to Ava's waist, his nostrils flaring as he caught her scent. "She's been busy since she left. Tell me, Ava, does the great Silas Blackwood know you're carrying a souvenir from your time in the gutters?"
Ava's heart stopped. The room began to spin. Panic, raw and paralyzing, clawed at her throat. She felt the eyes of the entire Council on her, judging her, dissecting her.
"She's glowing, Silas," Marcus sneered, sensing her fear. "That's not the glow of a happy mate. That's the scent of a female in her first trimester. Why don't we let the pack doctor verify—"
Before Marcus could finish, Silas moved.
He didn't shift into his wolf, but he didn't need to. In a blur of motion, he had Marcus by the throat, slamming him against a marble pillar with enough force to crack the stone. The sound of Marcus's breath leaving his lungs was a sickening thud.
"Listen closely, you pathetic cur," Silas hissed, his grey eyes glowing a terrifying, molten silver. Ava had never seen him like this—this was the monster the legends spoke of. "Ava is mine. Her past belongs to me. Her future belongs to me. And if you ever speak of her again, I won't just exile you. I will tear your heart out while it's still beating and feed it to the rogues at the border."
Marcus gasped for air, his face turning a bruised purple. "She... she's pregnant, Silas... you're being... played..."
"I know exactly what is inside her," Silas lied, his voice echoing with such conviction that even Ava almost believed him. He leaned in closer, his voice a lethal whisper that only Marcus and Ava could hear. "She carries the Blackwood heir. And if you suggest otherwise again, I will declare war on your entire pack before the sun rises."
Silas dropped him like a piece of refuse. Marcus crumpled to the floor, gasping and clutching his throat.
Without a word, Silas turned back to Ava. The fury in his eyes vanished, replaced by a terrifyingly calm possessiveness. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her flush against his side, his hand resting protectively—and purposefully—over her stomach.
"The banquet is over," Silas announced to the stunned room. "My Luna is tired. Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me in the dueling pit."
He led Ava away, his stride long and purposeful. It wasn't until they were back in the silence of the private wing, behind the heavy oak doors of his suite, that he finally let go.
Ava collapsed against the wall, her lungs burning. "Silas... I... thank you. But he knows. The whole Council will be talking—"
"Let them talk," Silas snapped, turning to face her. The protective mask was gone, replaced by a gaze so sharp it felt like a blade. He walked toward her until she was pinned between the wall and his towering frame.
"I saved you tonight, Ava. I claimed that child as mine in front of every powerful Alpha in this region." He leaned down, his face inches from hers, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "Now, you are going to tell me the truth. Is that bastard the father? Because if I'm going to war for a child that isn't mine, I need to know exactly whose blood I'll be spilling to keep the secret."
Ava looked into his cold, grey eyes and realized the banquet was the easy part. The real battle was here, in this room, with the man who was now her only shield—and her most dangerous judge.