Into the Darkness

The cold seeped into her bones.

Lilith barely noticed it at first, too lost in the rhythmic sway of the horse beneath her. The forest stretched endlessly on either side of the narrow dirt path, the trees towering above her like silent watchers. Shadows flickered in the moonlight, twisting with each gust of wind.

Her cloak was damp from the mist rolling in, her fingers numb where they gripped the reins. But she kept riding.

Because if she stopped, she would have to think.

And if she thought too much, she would break.

The night stretched long and endless before her, an abyss swallowing everything she had ever known. The estate was gone. Lucian was gone. And she had nowhere to go.

It was only when her stomach twisted violently that she realized she was shaking.

Not from the cold.

From exhaustion.

From grief.

From something else she didn't want to name.

She exhaled shakily, forcing her hands to stay steady on the reins. But the moment she tried to take a deep breath, her throat closed up.

She hadn't cried since she left.

Not truly.

Tears had burned her eyes, had sat thick in her throat, but she had swallowed them down. Because crying meant feeling, and feeling meant acknowledging what had just happened.

What she had lost.

But she wasn't just shaking now—her whole body felt wrong. A sick kind of pressure curled low in her stomach, spreading like ink beneath her skin.

She pressed a hand to her abdomen, her fingers trembling against the fabric of her dress.

And that was when it hit her.

It's not just me anymore.

Her breath caught.

Her heart stumbled.

Lucian's voice came back to her like a ghost.

"Carrying the child of another while claiming it as mine."

Her hand jerked away from her stomach like she had been burned.

Because it was true. She was pregnant.

She had known, of course. She had felt it. The exhaustion, the nausea, the way her body felt so different. But she had refused to name it. Had pushed it deep, deep down beneath everything else because the second she let herself accept it—it would become real.

And if it was real… then so was her exile.

A choked breath escaped her lips. Her vision blurred.

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

She wasn't supposed to be alone.

Lucian was supposed to be here. He was supposed to believe her.

But he hadn't.

And now, it was just her.

Just her and a child she hadn't even had time to want.

Her fingers curled into her cloak, gripping the fabric like it could hold her together.

"Maybe this is my fault."

The thought slid in like a knife.

Maybe if she had been more careful. Maybe if she had seen the signs earlier. Maybe if she had fought harder, explained better, pleaded more—

Maybe Lucian would have believed her.

Maybe he wouldn't have looked at her like she was something to be discarded.

Maybe she wouldn't be alone.

A sob built in her throat, but she clenched her teeth against it, blinking hard. She wouldn't cry. Not now. Not yet.

Not when the world was so, so dark.

A distant roll of thunder shuddered through the sky.

Lilith barely noticed the first drops of rain against her cheeks.

The soft drizzle turned heavy within minutes, the sky splitting open with a crack of thunder. Wind lashed against her soaked cloak, the chill sinking into her skin. She hunched forward, gripping the reins tighter, but it was getting harder to see, harder to breathe.

The world was a blur of rain and darkness.

Her horse whinnied beneath her, uneasy, shifting beneath the weight of the storm. Lilith forced herself to stay upright, her body weak and unsteady, but she knew she couldn't keep this up for much longer.

She needed shelter.

Somewhere—anywhere.

Then, through the sheets of rain, she saw it.

An old shack, barely standing, its wooden walls warped with age. It sat nestled between gnarled trees, half-hidden by the storm.

A sharp gust of wind nearly knocked her from the saddle, and she knew she had no choice.

With the last of her strength, she pulled the reins, guiding the horse toward the structure. The moment they reached it, she half-fell from the saddle, knees hitting the muddy ground. Her legs refused to hold her.

A sob built in her throat, but she swallowed it back.

Not yet.

Her fingers fumbled to unfasten the reins, leading her horse beneath the broken overhang of the shack. It wasn't much, but it would keep the animal dry.

She rested her forehead against its damp neck for a second, eyes burning, before finally turning toward the door.

Her hands shook violently as she pushed it open.

The shack was dark, damp, and barely standing. The wooden walls groaned against the force of the wind, the roof leaking in places where the storm had long since claimed its victory.

Lilith barely made it inside before her knees gave out completely.

She collapsed against the nearest wall, her soaked cloak pooling around her. Her breathing was ragged, uneven. Every muscle in her body ached.

The silence inside was deafening.

No Lucian. No familiar warmth. Just her.

Alone.

Her arms wrapped around her stomach, as if she could protect the life growing inside her.

A choked sound escaped her lips.

Because what was she supposed to do?

She had no pack. No home. Nowhere to go.

Lucian had cast her out without hesitation. Without doubt. Without even giving her the chance to breathe before he tore her world apart.

He was supposed to be here.

He was supposed to hold her.

To be happy.

To tell her they were going to be a family.

But instead—he had let her go.

And the worst part?

She still loved him.

A ragged sob ripped through her, violent and painful. Then another. Then another.

She curled in on herself, her shoulders shaking, her body wracked with grief she could no longer hold inside. The sound of the storm outside blurred into nothing as she buried her face in her hands.

And she cried.

For what she had lost.

For the home that had turned its back on her.

For the mate who no longer wanted her.

For the child that would never know a father's love.

She cried until her voice was raw. Until she was empty.

Until there was nothing left.

Nothing but silence.

Except… it wasn't just silence anymore.

A floorboard creaked.

Lilith's breath caught in her throat.

Then—a voice.

"Well," someone murmured, voice smooth, almost amused. "Aren't you a pretty mess?"

The blood in her veins turned to ice.

She wasn't alone.