Seren Vale stared at the blood test on the table like it might change if she blinked enough.
But it didn't.
The white card was stained at the center with her blood, and around it, three thin rings glowed faintly—each ring meant something: heritage, strength… and paternity.
The last ring was wrong.
It pulsed with a shade of violet that didn't belong to her mate.
She had taken the test three times. Same result.
The child she carried was not Lucan's.
Her hands were shaking now. She pressed them against her belly, which was still flat, still quiet. Only four weeks along. But her body knew. Her instincts knew. And now her mate would know too.
There was no hiding this.
Not from an alpha vampire with a nose like Lucan's.
She stepped back from the table and paced the room. Her quarters were too quiet, too clean. The walls felt like they were closing in—marble floors, glass shelves, books she no longer read, and that one velvet chair he never let her sit in.
She had to think. Had to figure out if there was any explanation. Something to prove she hadn't betrayed him.
Because she hadn't.
She hadn't touched anyone else.
She would remember. She had to remember.
A knock hit the door.
No, not a knock.
A slam.
"Seren," Lucan's voice called through the door. "Open it."
She froze. His voice wasn't calm. It had weight. Cold steel underneath.
She hesitated.
"Now."
She opened the door.
Lucan stepped inside without asking. His red cloak billowed behind him like smoke. His pale skin was flushed at the neck, his fangs slightly exposed. His eyes met hers—cold, golden, unreadable.
He didn't speak.
He didn't have to.
He could already smell it.
He could smell the child.
"You're pregnant," he said.
Seren swallowed hard. "I was going to tell you—"
He raised a hand.
"Don't."
The silence between them stretched like wire.
His gaze moved to the test kit on the table. One look. That was enough. His eyes narrowed.
"It's not mine."
Her breath caught. "Lucan—"
"It's. Not. Mine."
She stepped forward, her voice cracking. "I swear to you, I haven't—Lucan, I don't know how this happened. I never—"
"Never what?" he snapped, stepping closer. "Never slipped? Never spread your legs for some omega mutt? Don't insult me."
The slap never came. But the words hit harder.
She took a shaky step back.
"You know me," she said, barely audible. "You know I wouldn't do this."
"I thought I knew you."
She searched his face for something. Anything. Softness. Doubt. A flicker of the man who had once sworn to protect her.
But all she saw was rage.
And something colder.
Disgust.
"I claimed you," he said, voice low. "I gave you my name. My territory. My blood. And you give me this?"
He pointed toward the test kit.
She looked at it, then back at him. "I don't even know who—"
"That's the part that saves you," he said. "If you had named him, I'd tear his heart out."
She couldn't breathe.
"I don't remember anything," she whispered. "I never wanted this. I don't even know if the test is—"
"Don't lie."
His voice cracked like thunder.
She flinched.
Lucan stared at her for a long time. His expression unreadable.
Then he turned.
And shouted to the hallway, "Guards."
Two vampires appeared, both tall and blank-faced.
Lucan spoke without looking at her. "Strip her title. Prepare the rejection rite. She leaves by nightfall."
Seren stepped forward, heart pounding. "Lucan, please. Don't do this."
"You're not my mate," he said, his back still turned. "You're just another name I'll erase."
They didn't give her time to pack.
Didn't let her keep anything.
Her clothes were taken. Her jewelry stripped. The mark on her neck—the ceremonial sigil—was burned off with a blade.
By midday, she was kneeling in front of the Council.
Thirteen stone-faced elders sat in a circle above her. Cold-eyed. Silent.
Lucan stood to the side, arms folded, no emotion on his face.
The Seer led the rite.
"We gather to sever the bond between Alpha Lucan Rath and Seren Vale. The bond is tainted. The bloodline is broken."
Seren didn't speak. She couldn't. Her voice had gone dry.
The Seer placed a cold iron knife against her wrist and cut. The blood dripped onto the white stone floor, and the crimson spread in a spiral.
Her head swam.
She felt the bond split.
Not tear. Shatter.
Like a window breaking all at once. Like the sound of your own name being wiped from the earth.
She gasped.
Fell to her side.
Pain bloomed through her chest, her skull. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out.
Then—under her skin—something moved.
The baby.
Her baby.
A pulse of power radiated from her belly. Quiet but strong. It touched the stone and lit the blood up in a quick flash.
Just for a second.
No one said anything.
But she saw the Seer's eyes widen.
Then… they all turned their backs.
Lucan walked away.
The guards hauled her to her feet.
And by sundown, she stood at the gates with nothing but a threadbare cloak and dirt beneath her feet.
She didn't cry.
She couldn't afford to.
The forest ahead—the Hollowlands—waited like a mouth ready to swallow her whole. Shadows shifted between the trees. The air smelled like dust, moss, and something faintly sweet… like decay hiding behind flowers.
She stepped forward anyway.
Every footfall was agony. Her legs were weak. Her skin burned. But she didn't stop.
She crossed the boundary line.
The mark on her neck flared one last time.
Then died.
She was no longer Seren Vale of House Rath.
She was no one.
And somewhere deep inside her belly, the child pulsed again.
A second heartbeat.
Stronger than it should be.
As if it knew it wasn't ordinary.
As if it knew what was coming.