The war was over.
For the first time in years, there were no battles to fight.
No enemies hiding in the shadows.
No threats waiting beyond the borders.
Just peace.
Bella stood at the edge of White Moon's territory, breathing in the crisp morning air, feeling the weight that had settled on her shoulders for years finally lift.
She wasn't a warrior anymore.
She wasn't a hunted rogue.
She was Luna.
A leader.
A mate.
And now—something more.
"You're thinking too much again."
Dante's voice was warm, familiar, steady.
She didn't have to turn to know he was standing behind her, watching her like he always did.
"I'm allowed to think," she murmured.
Dante huffed, stepping closer, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against him.
"Not when it makes you worry."
Bella let out a slow breath, leaning into him, letting herself feel the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart.
Because she was worried.
Not about war.
Not about the past.
But about what came next.
Because two weeks ago, Bella had started feeling different.
More tired.
More hungry.
More… aware of the changes in her body.
She hadn't told Dante yet.
Hadn't wanted to say the words out loud until she was sure.
But now?
Now, there was no denying it.
She was pregnant.
And this time, it wasn't just her own future she had to think about.
It was the life growing inside her.