Chapter 18

The sky was bruised with gray clouds, hanging low over the kingdom like a warning. We were preparing for war, again. The peace had been short-lived, stolen by whispers of betrayal, by the cold eyes of Isolde, and the return of Ren—an Alpha once thought dead, now reborn in shadows.

Every corner of Silverwood was tense. Soldiers marched day and night. The elders held closed-door meetings. Spies reported strange movements along the borders. I could feel the storm coming. And yet, in the midst of it all, there was Liam and me—still holding on.

That night, I couldn't sleep. My thoughts twisted with fear. I stepped out onto the balcony of our chamber, letting the cool wind kiss my skin. I wore one of Liam's shirts, too big for me, the sleeves falling over my hands.

"You can't sleep either," his voice came from behind me, deep and low.

I turned slowly. He stood in the doorway, bare-chested, wearing only his dark pants. His eyes, normally hard from command, softened when they met mine.

"No," I whispered, turning back toward the stars. "Every time I close my eyes, I see fire. I see death. I see them—Isolde, Ren—coming for us."

He came behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. His warmth melted into me.

"They won't take anything from us," he said against my neck. "Not while I breathe."

I turned in his arms, looking up at him. "You can't promise that."

"I just did," he murmured.

His mouth found mine then, slow at first, then deeper, more urgent. The kind of kiss that came when words weren't enough. His hands slid into my hair, pulling me closer like he wanted to forget everything else.

I let him.

Because for a moment, I needed to forget too.

We didn't speak as he lifted me, carrying me back inside like I weighed nothing. He laid me down on our bed, his eyes locked on mine the whole time. There was a hunger in them, but also something more—something broken, something needing to be whole.

That night, we didn't make love to forget the war. We did it to feel alive.

Every touch was tender, but full of fire. His fingers traced every scar I had, as if memorizing them. His lips marked every part of me like a vow.

"I love you, Lola," he whispered into my skin, over and over, like a spell.

And I whispered it back.

When our bodies finally stilled, and the world was quiet again, he held me close. His heart beat strong beneath my ear.

"I want this," he said softly, stroking my hair. "You. A future."

I looked up at him. "Even with the war?"

"Especially with the war."

For the first time in weeks, I slept without fear.

The days after were a blur of war meetings and training. Liam had gone to the southern outposts to prepare our warriors. I stayed behind, training the she-wolves and healers.

But something had changed in me.

My body felt different. I was tired more easily. I couldn't stand certain smells. My stomach twisted each morning, but I blamed the stress. There was too much going on to think about anything else.

Until the day I fainted.

We were training in the fields just past the palace gardens. I was sparring with Rhea, one of the new warriors, when the world spun. My vision blurred, and my legs gave out from under me.

I hit the ground hard. Everything went black.

When I opened my eyes, I was in the pack hospital.

The walls were white. The smell of antiseptic hung in the air. I blinked slowly, trying to sit up.

"Don't move," Liam's voice was tight with worry.

I turned to see him sitting beside me, holding my hand so tightly his knuckles were white.

"What happened?" I asked, my throat dry.

"You fainted," he said. "During training. The healer called me the moment you dropped."

I looked down, confused. "I… I didn't feel sick."

The healer, an older woman named Mira, stepped into the room then. She gave me a kind smile but looked nervous when she glanced at Liam.

"I ran a few tests," she said gently. "Your vitals are good. You're strong, but… there's something else."

She handed me a slip of paper, and then said the words that knocked the breath out of me.

"You're pregnant."

I froze.

The room spun again, but this time it wasn't my body—it was my mind.

"Pregnant?" I whispered, staring at the paper in disbelief.

Mira nodded. "About six weeks."

I looked at Liam, whose face was unreadable. He didn't move. Didn't blink. Just stared at the paper like it was a war map.

After a moment, he stood.

"We need privacy," he told Mira.

She left quickly.

I sat up then, gripping the blanket. "Say something."

Liam turned his back to me. "No one can know."

His voice was cold now. Distant.

"What?" I said, my heart cracking.

"You heard me," he said, still not turning around. "No one. Not the court. Not the elders. Not even your friends."

"Liam…" My voice shook. "This is our baby."

"I know," he said. "Which is why no one can know. Not yet."

He finally turned to face me. His jaw was tight. His eyes were hard. "If Isolde finds out, or Ren… they'll use it against us. Against you."

"But—"

"They'll come for you, Lola," he snapped. "They'll come for the baby. And I can't lose you. I won't."

Tears welled up in my eyes. "So what? I have to hide? Pretend like nothing's changed?"

"Yes," he said. "For now. Until the war is over."

I shook my head, trying to breathe through the shock. "This should be something beautiful, Liam. Not a secret. Not a burden."

He stepped close, kneeling beside the bed, his face softening. "It is beautiful. You are beautiful. This child… it's a piece of you and me. But we have to protect it, Lola. Please. Just until it's safe."

His hand touched my belly, gently. It was still flat. There was no bump yet, no sign of what had just changed our lives forever.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to tell the world.

But I knew he was right.

This wasn't a normal life. We were leaders. We were at war.

And our baby would be hunted before it was even born.

I nodded slowly, tears slipping down my cheeks.

"Okay," I whispered. "We'll keep it secret."

But deep inside me, something shifted.

I wasn't just a mate anymore.

I was going to be a mother.

And I would protect this child with everything I had.

Even if it meant facing the fire alone.