Aria's POV
I woke up screaming.
My hands flew to my stomach—flat, empty, wrong. The cramping was gone, replaced by a hollow ache that hurt worse than any physical pain.
"Easy, child." Meredith's weathered face appeared above me. "You're safe now. You're in the Lycan King's palace."
Safe. The word felt like a lie. How could I be safe when everything inside me was broken?
"My baby," I choked out, even though I already knew. Had known from the moment I felt that first terrible cramp on the basement floor. "My baby's really gone?"
Meredith's eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Aria. The fall caused too much damage. Even with healing magic, there was nothing anyone could do."
I turned my face away, unable to bear her pity. The room around me was huge—bigger than the entire servant quarters back at Silvercrest. Soft sheets. Warm blankets. Golden light from a fireplace.
None of it mattered.
"How long was I unconscious?"
"Three days. The Lycan King's healers worked around the clock to save you. You lost so much blood—" Her voice cracked. "We almost lost you too."
Three days. For three days, I'd been lying here while my baby's death became real. While Daemon celebrated his new Luna. While Celeste got away with murder.
"I want to go home," I whispered.
"Home?" Meredith squeezed my hand gently. "Child, Silvercrest was never your home. It was your prison."
"But I don't belong here either." I finally looked around the beautiful room—too beautiful for someone like me. "Why did he bring me here? The Lycan King. He said something about old magic and my wolf, but none of it made sense."
Before Meredith could answer, the door opened.
Ezra Nightshade filled the doorway, powerful and imposing even when he wasn't trying to be. His silver eyes found mine immediately, and something in them made my breath catch.
"You're awake." He dismissed Meredith with a slight nod. "Leave us."
"My lord—"
"She's safe with me." His voice was gentle but firm. "I need to speak with her. Alone."
Meredith hesitated, then squeezed my hand once more before hurrying out. The door closed with a soft click, leaving me alone with the most dangerous creature in all the territories.
Ezra moved to the chair beside my bed, sitting like he had all the time in the world. "How do you feel?"
"Like I fell down a flight of stairs and lost my baby." The words came out bitter. "How do you think I feel?"
"Angry. Broken. Lost." His silver eyes never left my face. "Probably wondering why I saved you."
"Yes." I forced myself to meet his gaze. "Why did you? I'm nobody. Omega trash. You could have left me there to die and no one would have questioned it."
"You keep calling yourself that." His expression hardened. "Omega trash. Like it's your name instead of Aria."
"It's what I am."
"No." He leaned forward, and the intensity in his eyes pinned me in place. "It's what they told you that you were. There's a difference."
I didn't understand. Couldn't understand. My mind felt fuzzy, overwhelmed by grief and confusion.
"When I touched you in that basement," Ezra continued quietly, "my Lycan recognized something. Your scent is wrong—covered in suppression magic. Your wolf is silent when she should be screaming. And your blood..." He paused. "Your blood carries markers I haven't sensed in over three hundred years."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're not an omega, Aria. You never were." He stood, moving to the window. "Someone put a spell on you. A powerful one. The kind that takes decades to maintain and requires constant reinforcement."
My heart hammered against my ribs. "That's impossible. I've been weak my whole life. My wolf never emerged. I can't shift. I can barely feel her at all—"
"Because the magic won't let you." He turned back to face me. "Someone wanted you powerless. Wanted you to believe you were worthless. Wanted you trapped in that pack, suffering."
"Who would do that? Why?"
"That's what I intend to find out." His eyes glowed silver-white for a moment. "But first, you need to heal. Not just your body—your spirit. What they did to you, what he did to you, what she did..." His hands clenched into fists. "You need time to become whole again."
"I don't want time." Anger surged through me, hot and sharp. "I want revenge. She murdered my baby. She pushed me down those stairs and smiled while I bled out. And he—" My voice broke. "He chose her. Knowing she was cruel, knowing she was vicious, he still chose her over me."
"Then make them regret it."
The words hung in the air between us.
"What?" I whispered.
Ezra moved closer, his presence overwhelming. "You want revenge? Earn it. Get strong. Discover who you really are beneath that suppression spell. Become the woman they should have feared from the beginning."
"I'm nobody—"
"Stop saying that!" His power flared, making the air crackle. Then he took a breath, controlling himself. "Sorry. But I need you to understand something, Aria. You survived twenty-three years of abuse. You survived three years with a mate who treated you like property. You survived losing your child and nearly losing your life. That's not weakness. That's incredible strength."
Tears burned my eyes. "It doesn't feel strong."
"It never does. Not at first." He sat on the edge of my bed, carefully, like he was afraid I'd break. "But I'm offering you something, Aria. Stay here. Let me help you discover your true nature. Let my healers remove the suppression spell. Learn to fight, to shift, to command power the way you were always meant to."
"And then what?"
"Then you decide." His silver eyes held mine. "Go back to Silvercrest and show them what they threw away. Or stay here and build a new life. Or burn the whole world down if that's what you need." A slight smile crossed his face. "I'll support whatever you choose."
"Why?" I asked for what felt like the hundredth time. "Why do you care what happens to me?"
His expression softened. "Because when I carried you out of that basement, my Lycan claimed you. Not as property—as pack. As someone worth protecting." He stood, moving toward the door. "And because I've lived 843 years, Aria. I've seen countless wolves come and go. But something about you is different. Important. And I want to see what you become when you're finally free."
He opened the door, then paused. "Rest now. Tomorrow, we begin breaking the spell. It won't be easy or painless. But on the other side of that pain, you'll find yourself."
"Ezra?" My voice stopped him. "What if there's nothing under the spell? What if I really am just weak omega trash pretending to be more?"
He looked back at me, and his smile was fierce. "Then I'm a fool. But I don't think I am. My Lycan never lies. And right now, he's telling me you're the most dangerous thing to ever walk into my kingdom."
The door closed behind him, leaving me alone with impossible thoughts.
I pressed my hand against my empty stomach, feeling the absence of the life that had been growing there. My baby. Daemon's baby. The child who would never take their first breath.
Grief crashed over me in waves. But underneath it, beneath the pain and loss and heartbreak, something else stirred.
Rage.
Not the helpless anger of someone trapped and powerless. But something darker. Deeper. Something that had been sleeping inside me my whole life, waiting for this moment.
They'd taken everything from me. My dignity. My love. My child. My future.
And Ezra was offering me a chance to take something back.
I closed my eyes, searching inside myself for my wolf. For years, I'd felt nothing but emptiness. But now, in this strange palace, far from Silvercrest's cruelty, I felt something shift.
Deep in my mind, something stirred. Something ancient and powerful and angry.
My wolf, trapped under layers of magic, opened one golden eye.
And for the first time in my life, I heard her voice.
Finally, she whispered. You're ready to wake up.