Chapter 5
Three months passed.
My belly grew round, and my life in Thornridge grew roots.
I ran the healer's hall now. Helga had semi-retired, thrilled to have someone competent take over. The pack members came to me with everything from battle wounds to common colds, and for the first time in my life, I was valued for my skills rather than tolerated for them.
Caspian never overstepped. But he was always there.
He built shelves in my cabin when I ran out of space for herb jars. He walked me home when I worked late. When the pup kicked for the first time, he was the one I told — breathless and laughing and caught completely off guard by the joy of it.
He'd stared at me with those grey eyes and said, softly, "She's going to be extraordinary. Just like her mother."
I didn't correct his assumption about the pup's gender. Truthfully, I didn't know yet.
Everything was peaceful. Everything was healing.
Until the delegation arrived.
I was grinding feverfew in the back room when I heard the commotion at the pack gates. Horns sounded — the kind reserved for visiting Alphas.
Helga poked her head in, her face grim.
"You might want to stay out of sight today, child."
My blood turned cold. "Who is it?"
"Shadowfang Pack just sent an official delegation. They're requesting a trade alliance with Thornridge."
My grinding pestle slipped from my fingers.
"Is Dorian—"
"No. He's not here himself. He sent his Beta — Neil — and a few warriors. But..." Helga hesitated. "The woman is with them."
She didn't need to say which woman.
Vivienne.
I pressed myself against the back wall of the healer's hall, my heart pounding so hard I was certain the pup could feel it. I was six months pregnant now — visibly, unmistakably pregnant. If Vivienne saw me, if she recognized me—
"Elara."
Caspian appeared in the doorway, his expression calm but his eyes blazing with quiet fury. He'd already heard.
"You don't have to hide," he said firmly. "This is YOUR pack now. But if you want, I can ensure they never come anywhere near this hall."
I looked at him — this man who kept giving me choices when I'd spent years having none.
"Keep them away from me. Please."
He nodded once. "Done."
He turned to leave, then paused. "Elara. Whatever happens — you are not the woman who ran from Shadowfang anymore. Remember that."
Then he was gone.
The delegation stayed for two days. I didn't leave the healer's hall.
But on the second evening, just before sunset, I heard footsteps outside my window — lighter than a warrior's, clicking with deliberate, feminine confidence.
Then Vivienne's voice, saccharine and carrying: "Oh, this must be the healer's hall! I simply MUST see it. I've been having the most dreadful morning sickness—"
My door opened.
And there she was. Vivienne Ashford — now Vivienne Blackwood — standing in my doorway with her perfect hair and her barely-there bump, her eyes scanning the room like she owned it.
Until her gaze landed on me.
Her mouth fell open.
I stood behind my work table, six months pregnant, wearing Thornridge's healer crest on my chest, and I met her stare head-on.
"Hello, Vivienne."
The color drained from her face.
My belly grew round, and my life in Thornridge grew roots.
I ran the healer's hall now. Helga had semi-retired, thrilled to have someone competent take over. The pack members came to me with everything from battle wounds to common colds, and for the first time in my life, I was valued for my skills rather than tolerated for them.
Caspian never overstepped. But he was always there.
He built shelves in my cabin when I ran out of space for herb jars. He walked me home when I worked late. When the pup kicked for the first time, he was the one I told — breathless and laughing and caught completely off guard by the joy of it.
He'd stared at me with those grey eyes and said, softly, "She's going to be extraordinary. Just like her mother."
I didn't correct his assumption about the pup's gender. Truthfully, I didn't know yet.
Everything was peaceful. Everything was healing.
Until the delegation arrived.
I was grinding feverfew in the back room when I heard the commotion at the pack gates. Horns sounded — the kind reserved for visiting Alphas.
Helga poked her head in, her face grim.
"You might want to stay out of sight today, child."
My blood turned cold. "Who is it?"
"Shadowfang Pack just sent an official delegation. They're requesting a trade alliance with Thornridge."
My grinding pestle slipped from my fingers.
"Is Dorian—"
"No. He's not here himself. He sent his Beta — Neil — and a few warriors. But..." Helga hesitated. "The woman is with them."
She didn't need to say which woman.
Vivienne.
I pressed myself against the back wall of the healer's hall, my heart pounding so hard I was certain the pup could feel it. I was six months pregnant now — visibly, unmistakably pregnant. If Vivienne saw me, if she recognized me—
"Elara."
Caspian appeared in the doorway, his expression calm but his eyes blazing with quiet fury. He'd already heard.
"You don't have to hide," he said firmly. "This is YOUR pack now. But if you want, I can ensure they never come anywhere near this hall."
I looked at him — this man who kept giving me choices when I'd spent years having none.
"Keep them away from me. Please."
He nodded once. "Done."
He turned to leave, then paused. "Elara. Whatever happens — you are not the woman who ran from Shadowfang anymore. Remember that."
Then he was gone.
The delegation stayed for two days. I didn't leave the healer's hall.
But on the second evening, just before sunset, I heard footsteps outside my window — lighter than a warrior's, clicking with deliberate, feminine confidence.
Then Vivienne's voice, saccharine and carrying: "Oh, this must be the healer's hall! I simply MUST see it. I've been having the most dreadful morning sickness—"
My door opened.
And there she was. Vivienne Ashford — now Vivienne Blackwood — standing in my doorway with her perfect hair and her barely-there bump, her eyes scanning the room like she owned it.
Until her gaze landed on me.
Her mouth fell open.
I stood behind my work table, six months pregnant, wearing Thornridge's healer crest on my chest, and I met her stare head-on.
"Hello, Vivienne."
The color drained from her face.