Chapter 7
I didn't accept the bond. Not yet.
But I didn't reject it either.
Over the following weeks, Dominic was exactly what he promised — present but never pressing. He walked beside me in the mornings, told me about his territory, his people, his vision for the South.
He asked me about mine. My healing abilities. My years studying medicine to complement my supernatural gift. My dreams — the ones I'd buried so deep I'd almost forgotten they existed.
"You wanted to open a clinic," he said one evening. Not a question — he'd been listening.
"For humans and wolves both," I admitted. "Integrated healing. It's never been done."
"Because the old packs are too proud to admit humans have value." His expression darkened briefly. "I'm not. Build your clinic. I'll fund it."
I searched his face. "Just like that?"
"You spent five years pouring yourself into a pack that drank your energy and gave nothing back. It's time someone invested in *you*."
I didn't know how to respond. So I just nodded, and that night, for the first time, I started drawing blueprints.
---
My pregnancy progressed. Twelve weeks. Fourteen. The healers confirmed the baby was healthy — and special.
"The healer gene is active," Dr. Callahan told me, her eyes wide with barely contained excitement. "Combined with the Alpha blood — this child will be extraordinary. Possibly the strongest healer-wolf born in a century."
I felt a swell of fierce, protective love.
*Mine. This baby is mine.*
"Does Dominic know?" I asked.
"He asked me not to share medical details without your permission." She smiled. "He's very particular about your autonomy."
I went to him that evening and told him myself.
Dominic listened. And when I finished, he said: "The world will want that child. You know that."
"I know."
"Then we prepare." He pulled out a chair for me, spreading a map across the table. "Border reinforcements here, here, and here. Safe houses in three locations. A dedicated security detail for you and the baby—"
"Dominic."
He stopped.
"Thank you," I said softly. "For taking this seriously. For not — for not treating my child like a bargaining chip."
Something vulnerable crossed his face — just for a moment.
"Never," he said. "That child is yours. And if you'll let me — ours."
The word "ours" hit me in a place I'd thought was dead.
I reached across the table and laid my hand on his.
His breath caught. His fingers curled around mine — careful, like he was holding something precious.
We sat like that in silence, and I felt the bond between us pulse — warm, alive, patient.
Maybe I would accept it. Maybe soon.
But first — I had one more thing to resolve.
---
That night, my phone rang. An unknown number.
I answered.
"Selene." Vanessa's voice poured through the speaker like poison. "How's exile treating you?"
I should have hung up. But something in me wanted to hear what she had to say.
"What do you want, Vanessa?"
A tinkling laugh. "Just to let you know — Alaric's furious. Not heartbroken, mind you. Furious. You humiliated him in front of the council."
"Good."
"He's planning something. I don't know what, but he's been meeting with the elders every night. Talking about reclamation rights — old pack laws about bonded blood."
My grip tightened on the phone. "Why are you telling me this?"
A pause. Then, quieter: "Because I'm pregnant with his child, and if you come back — if he drags you back — I become irrelevant again. I need you to stay gone, Selene."
"For the first time in our lives, we want the same thing."
"Then be careful. He's not coming as a rejected mate. He's coming as an Alpha King reclaiming stolen pack property."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone, cold spreading through my veins.
*Stolen pack property.*
He wasn't going to fight for me.
He was going to fight for my baby.
But I didn't reject it either.
Over the following weeks, Dominic was exactly what he promised — present but never pressing. He walked beside me in the mornings, told me about his territory, his people, his vision for the South.
He asked me about mine. My healing abilities. My years studying medicine to complement my supernatural gift. My dreams — the ones I'd buried so deep I'd almost forgotten they existed.
"You wanted to open a clinic," he said one evening. Not a question — he'd been listening.
"For humans and wolves both," I admitted. "Integrated healing. It's never been done."
"Because the old packs are too proud to admit humans have value." His expression darkened briefly. "I'm not. Build your clinic. I'll fund it."
I searched his face. "Just like that?"
"You spent five years pouring yourself into a pack that drank your energy and gave nothing back. It's time someone invested in *you*."
I didn't know how to respond. So I just nodded, and that night, for the first time, I started drawing blueprints.
---
My pregnancy progressed. Twelve weeks. Fourteen. The healers confirmed the baby was healthy — and special.
"The healer gene is active," Dr. Callahan told me, her eyes wide with barely contained excitement. "Combined with the Alpha blood — this child will be extraordinary. Possibly the strongest healer-wolf born in a century."
I felt a swell of fierce, protective love.
*Mine. This baby is mine.*
"Does Dominic know?" I asked.
"He asked me not to share medical details without your permission." She smiled. "He's very particular about your autonomy."
I went to him that evening and told him myself.
Dominic listened. And when I finished, he said: "The world will want that child. You know that."
"I know."
"Then we prepare." He pulled out a chair for me, spreading a map across the table. "Border reinforcements here, here, and here. Safe houses in three locations. A dedicated security detail for you and the baby—"
"Dominic."
He stopped.
"Thank you," I said softly. "For taking this seriously. For not — for not treating my child like a bargaining chip."
Something vulnerable crossed his face — just for a moment.
"Never," he said. "That child is yours. And if you'll let me — ours."
The word "ours" hit me in a place I'd thought was dead.
I reached across the table and laid my hand on his.
His breath caught. His fingers curled around mine — careful, like he was holding something precious.
We sat like that in silence, and I felt the bond between us pulse — warm, alive, patient.
Maybe I would accept it. Maybe soon.
But first — I had one more thing to resolve.
---
That night, my phone rang. An unknown number.
I answered.
"Selene." Vanessa's voice poured through the speaker like poison. "How's exile treating you?"
I should have hung up. But something in me wanted to hear what she had to say.
"What do you want, Vanessa?"
A tinkling laugh. "Just to let you know — Alaric's furious. Not heartbroken, mind you. Furious. You humiliated him in front of the council."
"Good."
"He's planning something. I don't know what, but he's been meeting with the elders every night. Talking about reclamation rights — old pack laws about bonded blood."
My grip tightened on the phone. "Why are you telling me this?"
A pause. Then, quieter: "Because I'm pregnant with his child, and if you come back — if he drags you back — I become irrelevant again. I need you to stay gone, Selene."
"For the first time in our lives, we want the same thing."
"Then be careful. He's not coming as a rejected mate. He's coming as an Alpha King reclaiming stolen pack property."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone, cold spreading through my veins.
*Stolen pack property.*
He wasn't going to fight for me.
He was going to fight for my baby.