Adele's POV
A soft knock landed against the tall bedroom door.
I knew who it was before the echo of the sound faded into the silence inside the room.
When I opened the door, Sylvia stood there, her silver-streaked hair perfectly arranged, her posture composed. Her eyes swept over me quickly—taking in my lowered gaze, my slumped shoulders, the faint tremor in my hands.
She clicked her tongue softly, the sound soaked in exasperation more than false sympathy.
"I'm sorry, my dear," she whispered. "I was powerless to stop him. Can you forgive me?"
Her words settled like ash in my chest. She was bitter through and through.
I didn't answer.
What good would it do anyway? No one could have shielded me from an Alpha's wrath—not when that Alpha was my own mate. I stepped away from her and returned to the room, letting the door slide shut behind us.
The scent of steam lingered in the air, thick and suffocating.
Caden was still here.
The shower was running, the steady rush of water echoing through the bathroom like a warning. Every sound reminded me that he hadn't left yet, that the storm was merely quiet and not gone.
I focused on the bed.
It had to be perfect.
I stripped the sheets slowly, folding them with care despite how my fingers shook. Fresh linen replaced them—smooth, pristine, untouched. I fluffed the pillows just the way he preferred, aligning them precisely. Order calmed me. Routine kept me from falling apart.
"Is he bathing?" Sylvia asked quietly behind me.
I nodded, not trusting my voice just yet.
Before she could say anything else, the bathroom door opened.
Steam poured into the room as Caden stepped out.
He wore a white robe tied tightly at his waist, water beading on his skin, his dark hair slicked back from his face. Power clung to him even in silence—the wolf authority that made the air feel heavier, harder to breathe.
His cold blue eyes flicked to Sylvia for half a second before settling on me.
I didn't look up.
He didn't speak.
Without a word, he moved past us toward the walk-in closet, already shifting his focus to pack matters, territory, dominance—as if what had happened between us didn't exist at all.
I felt Sylvia's satisfaction like a prickle along my spine.
Then I moved my head, trying to shake loose the strands of hair that had fallen into my eyes.
The room went very still.
As my hair slid aside, cool air brushed my skin—and I realized too late what I'd revealed.
Marks.
Faint, purpling shadows scattered along my neck and jaw. Traces of possession no amount of fabric could hide.
Sylvia's breath hitched.
Her fingers curled into her palm, nails biting into flesh as rage flashed briefly across her face before she masked it. I saw it. Just for a second.
How could she not? After everything she'd done—after all the lies and poison she fed Caden—he still came back to me. Still claimed me. Still chose me.
He always had.
She had sent she-wolves with perfect bodies, human celebrities dripping in temptation, all hoping one would keep him away from home.
None of them ever did.
Caden would endure the parties, allow the cameras, tolerate the attention—but he always returned.
To me.
Sylvia didn't understand it.
She didn't understand that Caden had never taken pleasure in my tears, no matter what she believed. That his cruelty lived in words, not actions. That he had learned long ago to bury feeling beneath dominance and control.
But I didn't know that then.
All I knew was pain.
Words could wound deeper than claws.
I believed he hated me.
My stomach twisted violently.
A wave of nausea crashed over me without warning, sharp and overwhelming. I clapped a hand over my mouth and stumbled toward the bathroom, barely making it in time.
I knelt before the toilet as my body betrayed me, heaving until my throat burned and my vision blurred with tears.
I heard footsteps behind me.
Sylvia stood in the doorway, watching.
I could feel her gaze—sharp, assessing. Suspicion flickered in her eyes, followed by something colder.
When it finally passed, I rinsed my mouth and pushed myself upright, my legs still weak beneath me. My reflection in the mirror looked pale, hollow-eyed... ugly.
I needed to leave.
Breakfast had to be served. Caden demanded punctuality. The pack order depended on it.
I turned toward the door.
"Oh my Moon," Sylvia exclaimed suddenly. "Adele… are you pregnant?"
The words hit the entire space like thunder.
My heart slammed against my ribs as I froze.
Footsteps sounded behind me.
Caden emerged from the closet, his shirt half-buttoned, tie hanging loose around his neck. His gaze snapped to me instantly.
Shock flickered across his face.
Fear rooted me to the spot.
"Oh, Caden," Sylvia continued, gripping his arm with feigned excitement. "After three years, I'm finally going to be a grandmother!"
"What did you just say?" His voice was low and dangerously calm.
Sylvia faltered and stepped back.
Caden's eyes locked onto me.
"You're pregnant?" he asked, disbelief sharpening every syllable.
He took a step closer.
Then another.
His presence loomed over me, Alpha pressure pressing down until my already weak wolf whimpered in terror.
"Is it possible," he murmured softly, "for you to be carrying my pup?"
His tone was suddenly gentle.
That terrified me more than his rage ever had.
I shook my head instinctively—not in denial of the truth, but in self-defense. A reflex born from continuous fear.
Because I knew.
Whatever calamity was coming next… I wouldn't survive it unscathed.