Too Late The Alpha Lost Me

June’s POV

“The signs are clear,” healer Mirelle said, her voice calm but firm as she withdrew her hand from my wrist. She reached for a small glass vial resting on the table beside her, its contents faintly glowing with a soft silver light.

“The moon essence has already responded to your blood. You are carrying a pup… and not just any pup—the Alpha’s blood runs strong within you.”

For a moment, I didn’t react.

I simply sat there on the edge of the carved wooden bed in the healer’s chamber, staring at her as if I had misheard.

“A… pup?” I repeated slowly, my voice quieter than I intended.

Healer Mirelle gave a small, knowing nod as she carefully sealed the vial and placed it into my hand. “It is early, but there is no mistake. Your wolf has already begun to shield the life inside you. The essence does not awaken like this unless new life has taken root. You should be careful from now on.”

Careful.

The word echoed faintly in my mind, but it barely registered.

All I could feel was the sudden, overwhelming surge of warmth spreading through my chest, flooding every corner of me until it became impossible to breathe properly.

After five years…

Five years of being bound to Ragnar Virelith, Alpha of the Virelith Pack.

Five years of a bond that existed more in title than truth.

And now…I lowered my gaze slowly, my hand instinctively drifting to rest against my abdomen.

There was nothing there yet. No visible sign.

But I could feel it.

A faint, unfamiliar pull deep within me.

Alive…My wolf stirred softly, no longer restless or distant, but… protective. Curious.

She was hopeful.

A fragile smile touched my lips before I could stop it.

If Ragnar knew…

If he saw this as I did…

Perhaps things would finally change.

I had asked Healer Mirelle to tell no one about the pup, wanting Ragnar to be the first to know.

The thought followed me all the way back to the pack house.

The moment I stepped inside, the quietness greeted me first. It was cold and empty.

It felt unfamiliar, despite being my home for five years.

I moved through the halls slowly, my fingers brushing against the polished stone walls as I made my way toward the main living area. The scent of the place was faint—his scent, once dominant, had nearly faded.

He hadn’t been home in over a moon cycle.

They said he had been away handling territorial matters.

I believed it because I wanted to.

I even prepared dinner.

Not because I was told to.

Not because it was expected of a Luna in name.

But because… today was his birthday.

The long wooden table was set carefully, every detail arranged the way he preferred. The meal had already gone cold, untouched, the rich aroma now dull and lifeless in the still air.

Beside it sat a strawberry honey cake.

I baked it by hand, because I was careful not to ruin the taste.

I stared at it for a long moment before letting out a quiet breath.

“I should tell him tonight,” I murmured to myself, my fingers tightening slightly at my sides. “He should hear it from me first.”

My wolf shifted faintly, as if agreeing.

My communication tablet chimed.

The sound cut sharply through the silence, pulling me from my thoughts.

My heart lifted instantly.

Ragnar.

The tone was his.

I reached for the device without hesitation, a strange mix of anticipation and nervous energy building in my chest.

But the moment the screen lit up…

Everything inside me went still.

The image stared back at me, cruel in its clarity.

Ragnar stood beneath the glowing lanterns of a celebration hall—one I recognized instantly.

Moon Hall.

And he was not alone.

A woman stood within the circle of his arms, her frame small against his larger one, her expression soft and familiar in a way that made something in my chest tighten painfully.

Seris Thalor.

The name surfaced immediately.

The one who had once held his heart before I ever entered his life.

The one everyone said he had never truly let go.

And beside them…A child.

A little girl, no older than five or six, clinging to his hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Ragnar leaned toward her, his expression… different.

Gentler than I had ever seen.

Warmer than anything he had ever given me.

The phone slipped from my hand before I realized what I was doing.

It hit the floor with a muted sound.

I didn’t pick it up, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything.

I don’t remember how long I stood there.

Only that everything within me had gone quiet, not shattered, not yet, but hollow in a way that made the silence unbearable.

By the time I found myself standing outside one of Moon Hall’s private chambers, the night had deepened, the air cool against my skin.

The door remained slightly open, but I didn’t need to push it any further, as the scents reached me first—warm, sweet, and achingly familiar, enough to make my stomach twist..

Laughter followed.

Inside, Ragnar sat among his inner circle, relaxed in a way I had never seen within the walls of our home. Seris was beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed, the little girl nestled comfortably between them.

Every time the child spoke, Ragnar leaned in, his attention absolute.

There was no distance or restraint, no trace of the coldness I knew so well—only an effortless ease between them..

My fingers curled slowly at my sides, nails pressing into my palms as I forced myself to remain still.

The chamber was adorned with glowing crystals and woven garlands, every detail arranged for a celebration that centered entirely around him.

Seris stood then, her crimson dress catching the firelight as she moved.

She lifted a ceremonial crown and placed it gently on his head, her movements natural, intimate in a way that felt far too practiced.

The room dimmed slightly, the flames casting a soft glow over her features.

“Ragnar,” she said softly, her voice warm with something I didn’t need to name, “make a wish.”

If I had said those words…

He would have dismissed them…Calling them unnecessary, even childish.

But now…he smiled a real one, slow and unguarded.

“Alright,” he replied quietly.

The sound of it cut deeper than anything else.

My hand rose unconsciously, pressing against my abdomen.

Against the life growing inside me.

Our child.

A child he did not even know existed.

And suddenly, the realization settled in fully, heavy and suffocating.

I was his mate, his Luna in name.

And yet..

I stood outside, watching him build a life with someone else.

When the lights brightened again, I realized my vision had blurred.

I hadn’t noticed when the tears started falling.

Inside the room, laughter rose again.

Then a voice cut through it.

“Seris, you’re not leaving again this time, are you?” one of them teased lightly. “You should stay. The Alpha has done enough traveling for you.”

Seris lowered her gaze slightly, her cheeks tinting. “He has a mate,” she said softly. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

Ragnar didn’t correct them.

He didn’t even deny it.

He leaned back, his gaze resting on her with quiet fondness as he dismissed it all with a soft remark that it didn’t matter, that it was harmless.

The word lingered in my mind, distant and unreal, because nothing about this felt harmless, and without stepping inside or making a scene, I turned and walked away..

By the time I reached the estate again, the night had grown unbearably quiet.

The meal still sat where I had left it already cold and forgotten.

The cake beside it now felt almost mocking.

I didn’t light the lamps.

Didn’t bother with anything at all.

I lowered myself onto the sofa slowly, my body suddenly heavy, as though the weight of everything had finally settled in.

For a long time, I didn’t move or think or feel, until eventually my hand lifted on its own and came to rest gently over my abdomen, where a new life—one I had longed for, one I should have been celebrating—only made a quiet, painful thought surface through the emptiness.

“…Who would welcome you?” I whispered.

My voice broke softly.

A memory surfaced without warning.

A month ago Ragnar had been preparing to leave.

I had passed by the balcony just as his voice drifted through the open doors.

“Yes. I know when the flight arrives.”

He paused, then in a softer tone than I had ever heard him.

“Don’t come out to meet me. Stay where you are. I’ll come to you.”

I had stopped.

Surprised.

When I asked him who he was speaking to, he had turned, the warmth already gone.

“Just someone from the pack,” he said flatly.

Now, I knew.

The realization settled slowly, painfully.

And with it…

A darker thought began to take shape.

The child, the one I saw tonight.

Her age, the timing.

Seris leaving years ago… and only returning now.

My breath caught.

“No…” I whispered, shaking my head as if that alone could push the thought away. “That’s not possible…”

But once it began, I couldn’t stop it.

I sat there until dawn, and he didn't return.

When I finally stood, my body felt stiff, unfamiliar.

I picked up the small golden box and placed the healer’s sealed vial of moon-infused essence inside before locking it away, as if hiding it could somehow quiet the truth now rooted within me.

“Besides me…” I murmured faintly, my gaze lowering.

“Who would want this child?”

The sound of the front door opening broke the silence behind me.

My heart lurched violently.

My hand jerked.

And the box slipped from my grasp, hitting the floor with a dull sound.

June’s POV

The sound of footsteps echoed behind me, steady and unhurried, carrying a presence I recognized long before his scent reached me.

My body reacted instinctively, tension tightening through my spine as I bent quickly to pick up the small golden box I had dropped earlier. I slipped it into the inner fold of my robe, concealing it just as a hand settled firmly on my shoulder and turned me to face him.

My breath faltered, but I forced myself to steady it as I lifted my gaze.

Ragnar Virelith stood before me, his expression as composed and distant as ever. Even without releasing his Alpha aura, there was a quiet weight to his presence that filled the space between us, pressing subtly against my senses in a way I had never truly learned to ignore.

For five years, this was the version of him I knew.

Controlled. Reserved. Untouchable.

And yet, the memory of the night before rose unbidden, sharp and unwelcome, reminding me of a different side of him—one that softened, one that warmed… just never for me.

“Have you been crying?”

His voice was calm, almost indifferent, as his thumb brushed lightly beneath my eye. The gesture might have seemed gentle to anyone watching, but it only made the soreness worse, drawing attention to the swelling I had failed to hide.

I held his gaze for a moment, then asked quietly, “Is that why you came back? Because you didn’t return last night?”

A faint shadow crossed his expression, though it disappeared almost as quickly as it came.

Instead of answering, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against my eyelid in a gesture that felt strangely intimate, yet completely out of place.

“I saw what you prepared,” he said.

For a brief, foolish moment, a feeling stirred inside my chest—a fragile spark I should have known better than to entertain.

“If you saw it, then you…”

“Don’t do that again.”

The interruption was calm but absolute, cutting through my words before they could fully form.

“Preparing things like that is unnecessary. It wastes your time.”

The fragile hope I had not meant to feel disappeared instantly, leaving behind a quiet, aching emptiness.

A waste of time.

Because he already knew he would not return.

Because nothing I did had ever truly mattered.

Because his attention belonged elsewhere.

I lowered my gaze slightly, forcing my hands to remain steady despite the tightness building in my chest. “I understand,” I said, though my voice felt distant, as if it belonged to someone else.

After a brief pause, I spoke again, unable to suppress the question pressing against my thoughts.

“Then tell me something… where were you last night?”

“I was handling pack matters.”

The answer came smoothly, without hesitation, but my wolf resisted it immediately. She stirred faintly, uneasy, as though reacting to a truth my mind had not yet fully accepted.

“Ragnar…”

I reached for him before I could stop myself, my fingers closing around the sleeve of his tunic. I had never been particularly good at hiding what I felt, and even now, the strain showed despite my efforts to remain composed.

For a moment, he studied me.

Then he moved.

His hand came up to cradle the back of my head as he pulled me toward him, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was sudden and consuming. There was nothing hesitant about it; his touch carried the same controlled intensity that defined everything he did, leaving no room for refusal or distance.

My thoughts scattered almost immediately, my body responding instinctively as the faint pull of the bond blurred the line between what I felt and what I was meant to feel.

By the time he pulled away, my breathing had grown uneven, my lips tingling with the lingering warmth of his touch, and yet the ache in my chest had only deepened.

He stepped back as if nothing had happened.

Reaching past me, he retrieved a dark cloak and fastened it with practiced ease. As he moved, a faint scent brushed past me—soft, unfamiliar, and unmistakably feminine.

I closed my eyes briefly.

I didn’t need to ask.

When I opened them again, the man before me was once more the Alpha I had always known, every trace of warmth carefully hidden behind that familiar, distant composure.

Seeing him turn toward the door, I stepped forward quickly.

“Wait,” I said, my voice tightening despite my effort to remain calm. “There’s something I need to tell you…”

“That’s enough.”

He pulled his arm free with ease, as though my grip had never held any real weight.

“I have a council assembly at first light,” he said, adjusting the clasp of his cloak without looking at me. “I don’t have time for this now.”

Before leaving, he leaned in just enough to press a brief kiss against my cheek, a gesture so light and habitual that it carried no meaning at all.

“Don’t be difficult. We’ll speak later.”

Then he was gone.

The silence he left behind settled heavily in the room.

For a long moment, I remained where I was, staring at the empty doorway before the strength slowly drained from my body. I leaned back against the wooden frame behind me and slid down until I was seated on the cold floor, the weight of everything pressing down all at once.

Of course he had no time, not for me.

My thoughts drifted despite myself, piecing together what I had already seen, what I had already understood.

The lie, the scent that didn’t belong to me, and the distance he never tried to close all led to the same truth—that he had never truly chosen me, and I had only ever been chosen for him..

My hand moved instinctively to my abdomen, resting lightly there as the reality settled in more clearly than ever before.

Ragnar's pup.

A life that should have brought joy, but instead only sharpened the truth I could no longer ignore.

There was no place for me here anymore.

And if I stayed, there would be no place for this child either.

I took a slow breath and pushed myself to my feet.

If this was how it would end, then I would not wait to be discarded.

I would leave on my own terms.

Crossing the room, I placed the box securely inside the cabinet and locked it away before reaching for my communication tablet.

“Elder Vaerun,” I wrote, my fingers steady now. “Prepare a severance decree for me.”

By the time I left the estate, the sky had begun to lighten.

When I arrived at my family’s residence, I found Lysira—my father’s mate and the woman who had ruled this house since my mother’s death—reclining comfortably, applying a clay mask as though she had nothing in the world to concern herself with.

At the sound of my footsteps, she turned, surprise flickering across her face before irritation quickly replaced it.

“You came quickly,” she said.

“I can leave,” I replied calmly.

She stiffened, clearly displeased, but instead of arguing, her expression shifted into a more calculated one.

“I wanted to discuss something with you,” she said, her tone suddenly smoother. “The eastern river territory controlled by your mate… I was thinking of securing a residence there for your brother. Since you are his mate, arranging a favorable agreement should not be difficult.”

I studied her for a moment before answering.

“That territory belongs to Ragnar,” I said evenly. “I have no authority over it.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t be so rigid. What belongs to him belongs to you.”

For a brief moment, I simply looked at her.

Then I spoke.

“If your intention is to take advantage of him, you should reconsider.”

Her expression faltered, but before she could respond, I continued.

“Ragnar and I are severing our bond.”

Silence fell.

June’s POV

“Severance?”

Lysira’s voice rose sharply, cutting through the room with a force that made even the air feel tense.

For a moment, she simply stared at me, as if the words refused to settle properly in her mind. Then disbelief gave way to open scorn, her gaze sweeping over me with poorly concealed contempt.

“Do you have any idea how many women across the territories would give anything to be bound to the Alpha of Virelith?” she demanded. “And you, of all people, are speaking of leaving him? Have you completely lost your senses?”

I met her gaze without flinching, my expression calm despite the quiet strain tightening in my chest.

“If you believe it is such a blessing,” I said evenly, “then you may have it.”

She choked on her next words, clearly not expecting that response, before turning sharply toward the upper level of the house.

“Maelor!” she called out, her voice loud and urgent. “Come down here. Your daughter has lost her mind!”

Moments later, my father emerged from his study, his expression already lined with concern as he descended the steps.

“What is it?” he asked, glancing between us before his gaze settled on me.

Lysira gestured toward me dramatically. “Ask her yourself. I mentioned a small matter—securing a residence within the eastern river territory for her brother’s future—and she responds by declaring she intends to sever her bond with the Alpha. I cannot reason with her. You should try before she destroys everything she has.”

My father’s brows drew together as he looked at me more closely, the shock in his expression impossible to miss.

“You wish to leave Ragnar?” he asked slowly.

He knew.

He knew how long I had carried my feelings for that man, how much I had endured just to stand beside him. He had seen the whispers, the judgment, the quiet humiliation that followed me after the bond was formed.

And now…

“Yes,” I answered.

He led me toward the seating area, his movements gentler now, as though he feared pressing too hard would cause something to break.

“But why?” he asked. “Has something happened? Did he wrong you?”

For a brief moment, I considered telling him everything.

About last night.

About what I had seen.

About the truth I could no longer ignore.

But the words never came.

Instead, I lowered my gaze, forcing my voice into something steadier than I felt.

“He did nothing,” I said quietly. “I simply find no meaning in this bond anymore. I want to leave. I want my life back.”

He did not look convinced.

“If you are unhappy, you can tell me,” he said, his voice softer now.

The concern in his tone stirred a fragile feeling within me, something that might have broken through if not for the sharp interruption that followed.

“Unhappy?” Lysira cut in, her voice edged with disbelief. “She lives within the Alpha estate, attended to, provided for, wanting for nothing. What reason could she possibly have to complain? In my opinion, she has simply grown accustomed to comfort and no longer knows her place. Let her leave and lose all of it, then we will see how long this resolve lasts.”

A faint tension settled deep in my chest.

Then snapped.

“Yes,” I said, lifting my gaze to meet hers, my voice no longer as steady as before. “Being bound to the Alpha may look like everything from the outside. But what if I no longer want it? Am I not allowed that choice?”

Both of them fell silent, clearly taken aback.

I rarely raised my voice.

I rarely pushed back.

But I could not keep pretending.

“I cannot continue like this,” I said, the words quieter now, though they carried far more weight. “I only want to be myself again. Nothing more.”

The effort of holding everything in place made my body tremble faintly, the exhaustion of it settling deep into my bones.

I could endure his distance.

I could endure his indifference.

But I could not endure the lies.

Not when they were for another woman.

Lysira recovered quickly, her expression hardening again.

“We are your parentss,” she snapped. “Is that how you speak to us? Control yourself.”

I pressed my lips together and said nothing more.

Seeing my silence as submission, she let out a small, satisfied sound.

“So this is about the residence I mentioned?” she continued, her tone shifting into a tone falsely reasonable. “If you did not wish to help, you could have simply said so. There was no need to make such a scene.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

There were things I could not explain.

Not in a way that would make sense to her.

She did not stop.

“Have you considered your father at all?” she pressed. “He has only just secured a profitable arrangement through his connection to the Virelith pack. He has been working tirelessly to finalize it, barely resting. And now you speak of leaving? Do you intend to throw all of that away?”

I turned toward my father, noticing for the first time the weariness in his expression, the shadows beneath his eyes that had not been there before.

A quiet heaviness settled over me.

“How long?” I asked.

“Another week,” he replied, though he seemed hesitant to say more.

I understood.

He was caught between us.

Between what he wanted to say and what he could not.

“Then we will speak of it after your work is done,” I said.

When I returned to the estate, the silence felt even more pronounced than before.

I moved through the motions without thinking, stepping into the garden to tend to the plants that had long since become part of my routine. My hands worked automatically, but my thoughts remained distant, tangled in everything I could no longer avoid.

One week.

That was all I had to decide and to prepare.

I had to leave.

My hand drifted briefly to my abdomen.

The reminder was constant now, quiet but undeniable.

Perhaps tonight…Perhaps I would speak to him about the separation. About his pup.

I needed to know where I stood.

As the light began to fade, I returned inside and went to the kitchen.

Ragnar did not allow many outsiders within the estate. Aside from a cleaner who came occasionally, everything within these walls had long since become my responsibility.

He was particular about what he ate, and over time, I had learned his preferences well enough to prepare meals he would not reject.

By the time I finished, several dishes had been set out, each one chosen carefully.

I arranged them on the table and sat down to wait.

Time passed slowly.

The warmth faded from the food.

The light outside dimmed into darkness.

And still…he did not return.

Eventually, I reached for my communication tablet.

“Ragnar,” I said when the connection opened, my voice quieter than I intended.

A brief pause followed before his reply came, distant and familiar.

“I am occupied.”

My fingers tightened slightly around the stone.

“You said you would return tonight,” I said.

“I will be delayed,” he replied. “Do not wait.”

The words settled heavily in my chest.

“I see.”

“And June ,” he added, his tone sharpening slightly, “do not disturb me while I am engaged in matters of the pack.”

“I understand.”

I was about to end the connection when…

A small voice carried faintly through from his side.

“Daddy… Mummy said you should come help me shape the clay figure.”

Everything inside me went still.

The line remained open for a heartbeat longer.

Then it cut.

I lowered the tablet slowly, my hand no longer steady.

The quiet of the room pressed in around me, heavier than before, until even breathing felt like an effort.

So this was the truth.

JUNE

I was alone in the estate when the call came through.

The communication tablet on the table lit up without warning. I turned my head slowly, not expecting anything important. Ragnar had said he would be away on pack duty. He had sounded firm about it. There had been no space for questions.

The stone pulsed again.

I walked toward it, my steps quiet against the floor. I did not rush. Something in my chest already felt tight, though I did not know why.

I placed my hand on the stone.

Before I could speak, a small voice came through.

“Daddy?”

I froze.

The word did not make sense at first. My mind refused to place it. My wolf reacted before I did. She stirred hard under my skin, restless and alert.

“Daddy, are you coming back?”

The voice was young. Soft. Certain.

My fingers tightened around the stone.

There was a brief silence, then Ragnar’s voice came through, lower than usual. Controlled.

“I will call you later.”

The line went dead.

Just like that.

I stared at the stone long after the light faded. I waited, thinking maybe it would come back on. Maybe he would explain. Maybe I had heard wrong.

But nothing happened.

My wolf pushed forward, uneasy. She did not like what we had just heard. Neither did I.

I picked up the tablet again and tried to reconnect, but Ragnar’s line was already closed. He had shut it off himself. That was clear.

He did not want to be reached.

I set the stone down slowly.

The estate felt too quiet.

It had always been large, but now it felt empty in a way that made my chest hurt. I walked through the main hall without direction, my thoughts moving too fast for me to follow.

“Daddy.”

The word stayed in my head.

Ragnar had never spoken of a child. Not once. Not even in passing. He was not the kind to hide something like that… or maybe he was. I realized I did not know.

That thought settled heavily in my chest.

I stopped walking.

My wolf shifted again, unsettled. She did not trust this. She did not trust him in that moment anndeither did I.

I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to steady my breathing. It did not help. The bond between us felt… off. Not broken, but distant. Like something had been placed between us.

I had ignored that feeling before.

Now I could not.

I sank down slowly onto the floor, right there in the middle of the hall. I did not care about how it looked. There was no one to see me.

The silence pressed in on me.

I tried to think of a reason. A simple one. Something that would make sense.

But the truth was already clear.

Ragnar was not where he said he was.

And whoever that child was, they knew him well enough to call him that without hesitation.

My chest tightened further.

I lowered my head into my hands.

I had stood beside him, followed his lead, accepted his distance, and told myself it was enough. I had believed the bond meant something solid. Something real.

But sitting there, alone in his estate, I started to see it clearly.

I was not part of his life.

Not in the way I thought.

The feeling hit me all at once, and I could not hold it back. My shoulders shook as I broke down, the sound leaving me before I could stop it.

It was not loud, but it was real. I stayed like that for a long time.

There was no one to stop me. No one to hear it.

At some point, my wolf quieted. Not because she felt better, but because there was nothing left to react to. The truth had settled.

When I finally lifted my head, the light in the hall had changed. Hours had passed.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand and pushed myself up slowly. My body felt heavy, but my mind had gone still.

I could not stay like that.

I would not.

I walked toward the far side of the hall, where a portrait hung on the wall. My steps were slower now, more controlled.

My mother’s face looked back at me.

She had always looked calm in that portrait. Steady. Certain.

I stopped in front of it.

For a moment, I just stood there.

“You would have told me to stand up,” I said quietly.

My voice sounded different to my own ears. Lower. Tired.

I looked at her eyes in the painting.

“You would not have let this break you.”

The words settled something inside me.

I took a slow breath and straightened my back. My wolf shifted again, but this time it was not restless. She was watching. Waiting for me to decide.

“I understand,” I said under my breath.

I stayed there a little longer, until the tightness in my chest eased just enough for me to move.

By the time I left the hall, I had already decided one thing.

I would not chase Ragnar.

If there was something to know, I would see it for myself.

The next morning came without much rest.

I got ready early, needing to leave the estate. Staying there would only bring back the same thoughts. I needed space, even if it was temporary.

I met with Lira at the edge of the pack grounds. She had sent word the night before, asking to see me. I almost did not go, but I was glad I did.

She looked at me once and frowned.

“You look tired,” she said.

“I did not sleep well,” I replied.

She did not press. That was one thing I respected about her.

Instead, she reached into her pouch and pulled out a bracelet. It was simple, made with small stones that gave off a faint energy.

“I made this for you,” she said, holding it out. “Wolfstone. It helps keep your emotions steady.”

I looked at it for a moment before taking it.

“Thank you.”

“Wear it,” she added. “It will help more than you think.”

I slipped it onto my wrist. The energy was light, but I could feel it settle over my skin.

JUNE

I did not think before I moved. One moment I was sitting, watching from a distance, and the next I was already on my feet. My wolf surged forward, pushing past the control I had been holding onto. The bracelet on my wrist pulsed faintly, trying to steady me, but it was not enough.

“June—” Lira called after me, but I did not stop.

I walked straight toward him.

Ragnar noticed me before I reached him. His head turned slightly, his eyes locking on mine. The relaxed look he had earlier was gone in an instant. His posture shifted back into something controlled, something firm.

Seris followed his gaze and saw me too. She did not move, but I saw the way her body went still.

The child remained in his arms, unaware.

I stopped a few steps away from them.

For a moment, none of us spoke.

Then I looked directly at him.

“You lied to me.”

My voice came out steady, but I could feel the tension behind it. My wolf stayed close, alert and ready.

Ragnar did not respond immediately. His eyes held mine, unreadable.

“June,” he said, low and controlled. “This is not the place.”

“Then where is the place?” I asked. “Because I was in your estate last night, and you were not where you said you would be.”

A few pack members nearby had started to slow down. I could feel their attention shifting toward us. Whispers were already beginning.

Ragnar noticed it too.

His jaw tightened slightly.

He adjusted the child in his arms and handed her to Seris without looking away from me.

“Take her,” he said quietly.

Seris hesitated for a second, then took the child. She held her close and stepped back.

“Ragnar—” she started, but he cut her off.

“Go. Now.”

There was no room for argument in his tone.

She left without another word, moving quickly away from the open ground. The child looked back once, but Seris kept going.

I watched them leave.

“You are drawing attention,” he said.

“I do not care,” I replied.

“I do,” he said firmly.

Before I could react, his hand closed around my arm. His grip was not rough, but it was strong enough that I could not pull away.

“Ragnar, let go of me.”

“Not here.”

He started moving, pulling me along with him.

I resisted at first, but he did not stop. A few pack members stepped aside as we passed. The whispers grew louder, but no one stepped in.

He led me toward one of the transport vehicles stationed at the edge of the grounds. He opened the door and guided me inside before I could argue again.

“Sit.”

“I am not—”

“Sit, June.”

His voice dropped, carrying Alpha weight.

My wolf reacted instantly, forcing me down into the seat before I could fight it.

I hated that.

He stepped in after me and shut the door.

The space inside was quiet, closed off from the outside noise. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

I pulled my arm free from his grip.

“Explain.”

The word came out sharper than I intended.

Ragnar leaned back slightly, his expression calm again, but I could see the tension in his shoulders.

“There is nothing to explain that requires this reaction,” he said.

I let out a short breath.

“A child called you ‘Daddy,’ Ragnar.”

His gaze did not shift.

“I heard it myself.”

There was a brief pause before he spoke again.

“She is not mine.”

I studied his face, looking for any sign of hesitation.

“Then who is she?”

“She is Seris’s daughter.”

“And Seris?”

He did not look away.

“The widow of a fallen ally,” he said. “He saved my life during a border conflict. I owe him a debt.”

I listened, but something in me did not settle.

“And that debt includes you being with them?” I asked.

“It includes ensuring their safety,” he replied.

“By hiding them from me?”

“I did not hide them,” he said evenly.

I stared at him.

“You shut off your line after she called you ‘Daddy.’”

“I did not want to discuss it over a communication stone.”

“Then when?” I asked. “When were you planning to tell me?”

He did not answer that. The silence stretched between us.

I leaned back slightly, crossing my arms.

“You carry her,” I said. “You let her stay close. You accept food from Seris. That is not distance, Ragnar.”

His eyes darkened slightly.

“You are reading too much into actions that are based on duty.”

“Duty does not look like that,” I said quietly.

For the first time, something shifted in his expression. It was brief, but I saw it.

Then it was gone.

“This is not up for interpretation,” he said.

I let out a small laugh, but there was no humor in it.

“Of course it is not.”

He did not react to that.

Instead, he straightened slightly, his posture returning fully to Alpha authority.

“They will be moving into the estate.”

The words landed hard.

I blinked once, making sure I heard him correctly.

“No.”

It came out immediately.

“That is not happening.”

“It is already decided.”

“You do not get to decide that alone,” I said. “That estate is ours.”

“It is pack territory,” he corrected. “And I am the Alpha.”

My wolf pushed forward again, reacting to the tone.

“And I am your mate,” I said, holding his gaze. “That should mean something in that space.”

“It does,” he replied. “But it does not change this decision.”

I shook my head slowly.

“You are bringing another she-wolf and her child into our home without even asking me.”

“I am informing you now.”

“That is not the same thing.”

“It is enough.”

The way he said it made something in my chest tighten.

“No, it is not,” I said firmly. “You do not get to take my place in that estate and hand it to someone else.”

“I am not taking your place.”

“That is exactly what you are doing.”

His expression hardened slightly.

“This arrangement is necessary.”

“For who?” I asked. “For them? Or for you?”

He did not answer.

That silence said more than anything else.

I looked away for a moment, trying to steady myself. The bracelet on my wrist gave off a faint pulse again, but it barely reached me.

When I looked back at him, my voice was lower.

“If they step into that estate, everything changes.”

“It already has,” he said.

The words were simple, but they settled heavily.

I held his gaze for a few seconds longer, then leaned back into the seat.

“So that is it?” I asked. “No discussion. No agreement. Just your word.”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation.

“This is not a discussion, June. It is an order.”

“Understood,” I said quietly.

He watched me for a moment, as if trying to read something in my face.

Then he opened the door.

“I have pack matters to attend to,” he said. “We will speak later if needed.”