Chapter 5
Three days passed in Ashford territory, and not once did Dominic pressure me.
He gave me an entire wing of the estate. Staff who answered to me. A personal healer who confirmed my pregnancy was stable despite the stress.
He ate breakfast across from me each morning and asked nothing except: "Did you sleep?"
The answer was always no. But he never pushed.
On the fourth day, the news broke.
My phone exploded with messages from the Blackwood pack. Former allies. Council members. Even warriors I'd healed over the years, sending frantic texts.
*Luna, is it true?*
*Are you really with the Ashford Alpha?*
*Alaric is losing his mind.*
I turned my phone off and went for a walk in the gardens.
That evening, Dominic found me on a bench near the lake, watching the sun bleed out over the water.
"He's calling for you," Dominic said, sitting down beside me. Not too close. "His Beta contacted my office. Alaric demands your return."
"Demands," I repeated.
"His word. Not mine."
I laughed — a short, empty sound. "Five years of silence, and now he demands."
"I told them no, obviously." Dominic's mouth curved slightly. "I also told them that if anyone crosses my border without invitation, I'll consider it an act of war."
I looked at him — really looked at him. The evening light caught the angle of his jaw, the steadiness in his eyes.
"You'd go to war? Over me?"
"I'd go to war over principle," he said simply. "You just happen to be the principle I care about most right now."
Something warm flickered in my chest. I didn't trust it yet. But I didn't push it away either.
---
The rejection contract passed on day five. Seventy-two hours, no countersignature from Alaric — which meant he'd either ignored it out of arrogance, or he'd tried to block it and failed.
Either way, I felt the bond sever.
It hit like a physical blow — a sharp snap in my chest, followed by emptiness where the connection used to be. I gasped, gripping the edge of my desk.
Then: nothing. Just silence where his presence used to hum.
I waited for the grief. The devastating loss that every rejected mate described.
It didn't come.
Maybe I'd already grieved him — slowly, over five years of being invisible. Maybe there was nothing left to mourn.
The healer found me an hour later, ashen-faced.
"Luna Selene — your vitals spiked. The bond severance — at this stage of pregnancy, it can be dangerous. We need to monitor—"
"I'm fine." I pressed my hand to my stomach. "We're both fine."
She didn't look convinced but nodded. "Alpha Dominic asked me to inform you — there's a formal dinner tonight. The Southern Council wants to meet you."
"Already?"
"He said — and I quote — 'They can meet her when she's ready, but I'd rather they meet her while she's still angry. It makes a better first impression.'"
Despite everything, I smiled.
---
The dinner was a political stage, and I knew how to perform.
Years of being Luna to a man who ignored me had taught me one thing — how to command a room alone.
I wore black. Walked in with my chin high. Dominic rose from his chair the moment I entered and pulled mine out himself.
Twelve council members watched. I saw their calculations — the Thornfield blood, the alliance implications, the potential heir.
But Dominic introduced me simply.
"This is Selene. She's under my protection. Soon, she'll be my wife. Treat her as you would treat me — or answer to me directly."
No mention of bloodlines. No talk of political value.
Just: *she matters. That's enough.*
After dinner, as the council filed out, one of the elders lingered. An old wolf with silver at his temples and sharp, knowing eyes.
"Alpha," he murmured to Dominic, "the Blackwood heir she carries — you understand what that means for succession?"
Dominic didn't hesitate. "It means my firstborn will be strong."
The elder blinked. "But the bloodline—"
"Is none of your concern." Dominic's voice dropped to a register that made the air pressure change. "That child will be Ashford. End of discussion."
The elder bowed and left.
Dominic turned to me. "You heard that."
"I did."
"And?"
I met his eyes. "You keep surprising me."
He tilted his head, the barest smile ghosting across his mouth. "Good. I intend to keep doing that."
That night, for the first time in years, I slept without nightmares.
He gave me an entire wing of the estate. Staff who answered to me. A personal healer who confirmed my pregnancy was stable despite the stress.
He ate breakfast across from me each morning and asked nothing except: "Did you sleep?"
The answer was always no. But he never pushed.
On the fourth day, the news broke.
My phone exploded with messages from the Blackwood pack. Former allies. Council members. Even warriors I'd healed over the years, sending frantic texts.
*Luna, is it true?*
*Are you really with the Ashford Alpha?*
*Alaric is losing his mind.*
I turned my phone off and went for a walk in the gardens.
That evening, Dominic found me on a bench near the lake, watching the sun bleed out over the water.
"He's calling for you," Dominic said, sitting down beside me. Not too close. "His Beta contacted my office. Alaric demands your return."
"Demands," I repeated.
"His word. Not mine."
I laughed — a short, empty sound. "Five years of silence, and now he demands."
"I told them no, obviously." Dominic's mouth curved slightly. "I also told them that if anyone crosses my border without invitation, I'll consider it an act of war."
I looked at him — really looked at him. The evening light caught the angle of his jaw, the steadiness in his eyes.
"You'd go to war? Over me?"
"I'd go to war over principle," he said simply. "You just happen to be the principle I care about most right now."
Something warm flickered in my chest. I didn't trust it yet. But I didn't push it away either.
---
The rejection contract passed on day five. Seventy-two hours, no countersignature from Alaric — which meant he'd either ignored it out of arrogance, or he'd tried to block it and failed.
Either way, I felt the bond sever.
It hit like a physical blow — a sharp snap in my chest, followed by emptiness where the connection used to be. I gasped, gripping the edge of my desk.
Then: nothing. Just silence where his presence used to hum.
I waited for the grief. The devastating loss that every rejected mate described.
It didn't come.
Maybe I'd already grieved him — slowly, over five years of being invisible. Maybe there was nothing left to mourn.
The healer found me an hour later, ashen-faced.
"Luna Selene — your vitals spiked. The bond severance — at this stage of pregnancy, it can be dangerous. We need to monitor—"
"I'm fine." I pressed my hand to my stomach. "We're both fine."
She didn't look convinced but nodded. "Alpha Dominic asked me to inform you — there's a formal dinner tonight. The Southern Council wants to meet you."
"Already?"
"He said — and I quote — 'They can meet her when she's ready, but I'd rather they meet her while she's still angry. It makes a better first impression.'"
Despite everything, I smiled.
---
The dinner was a political stage, and I knew how to perform.
Years of being Luna to a man who ignored me had taught me one thing — how to command a room alone.
I wore black. Walked in with my chin high. Dominic rose from his chair the moment I entered and pulled mine out himself.
Twelve council members watched. I saw their calculations — the Thornfield blood, the alliance implications, the potential heir.
But Dominic introduced me simply.
"This is Selene. She's under my protection. Soon, she'll be my wife. Treat her as you would treat me — or answer to me directly."
No mention of bloodlines. No talk of political value.
Just: *she matters. That's enough.*
After dinner, as the council filed out, one of the elders lingered. An old wolf with silver at his temples and sharp, knowing eyes.
"Alpha," he murmured to Dominic, "the Blackwood heir she carries — you understand what that means for succession?"
Dominic didn't hesitate. "It means my firstborn will be strong."
The elder blinked. "But the bloodline—"
"Is none of your concern." Dominic's voice dropped to a register that made the air pressure change. "That child will be Ashford. End of discussion."
The elder bowed and left.
Dominic turned to me. "You heard that."
"I did."
"And?"
I met his eyes. "You keep surprising me."
He tilted his head, the barest smile ghosting across his mouth. "Good. I intend to keep doing that."
That night, for the first time in years, I slept without nightmares.