"You know what disgusts me the most?" Ashton said over the phone to his friend.
"Women who get pregnant on purpose," he said. "They call it fate from the moon goddess or love. But it's nothing more than leverage they use to tie down their chosen mates."
He said, finally glancing at me, his eyes sharp and assessing.
"A child is the cheapest way to chain a man who no longer wants to stay."
I hadn't known what to say. So I said nothing. I just turned my face to the window and sat quietly as we went to the hospital for the usual check-up I do regularly.
Now, hours later, the hospital report lay open on my lap. Six weeks pregnant.
The words sat on the report, and I kept glancing at it, hoping it would change, and all this would be a dream.
I didn't move. I couldn't. My fingers trembled slowly as I stared at the paper in my hands, my heartbeat very loud in my ears. It had only happened once—one unlucky night. One moment where my sting control slipped, and the instinct of being with my mate took over.
How did it end like this?
My mind spiraled aimlessly. What was I supposed to do now? Should I tell Ashton? Would this change anything, or would it make everything worse? He already feels some kind of way about surprise pregnancies.
A bitter laugh almost escaped me. Divorce was already on the table. If I told him about the child, he wouldn't see it as fate or responsibility; he would see it as manipulation. A dirty trick. Proof that I was trying to tie him to me with something more than what we already had.
The thought of him saying that was enough to make my chest ache.
I folded the report carefully and pushed it deep into my bag. By the time I walked out of the hospital, my face was calm again, and the tears in my eyes had dried up. I had learned that skill long ago.
A black Maybach waited by the curb.
One window was lowered just enough for me to see him.
Ashton Fuller, my husband, sat behind the wheel, his eyes closed, posture relaxed, but I knew better.
People slowed as they passed, their gazes drawn to him without shame. Wealth. Authority. Control. He had it all.
I slipped into the passenger seat quietly.
The door had barely closed when his brows creased. He didn't open his eyes.
"Is it done?" he asked coldly.
"Yes." I nodded and handed him the hospital contract. "Dr. Ludwick said to pass along his regards."
I'd planned to come alone today. Somehow, I'd run into Ashton instead. He'd said nothing at first, just told me to get in the car. Said he was heading the same way.
As always, it hadn't felt like a suggestion.
"You will ll oversee the rest," he said, starting the engine without even glancing at the document.
I nodded again.
That was what I did. I always followed. I always obeyed. I always stayed quiet.
The car moved smoothly through evening traffic, heading toward the city center instead of the villa. Evening lights shone bright around us, glass buildings reflecting gold and steel. I noticed the direction but didn't ask why.
I never did, he would not give me the answer even if I did ask.
The weight of the report pressed against my side. My thoughts kept circling back to it, to the tiny life I hadn't prepared for, to the bond that was already breaking between Ashton and me.
I stole a glance at him.
His jaw was set, eyes fixed on the road, his expression unreadable. He looked distant and unapproachable. The same man who had once looked at me like I was a big shiny star now felt like a stranger.
My hands grew damp around the strap of my bag. I wiped it on my cloth and steadied it again.
"Ashton," I said suddenly, the name leaving my mouth before I could stop it.
"Speak," he replied coldly, his eyes still on the road. He didn't even look at me.
He had always treated me this way, so I shouldn't have been surprised.
After a few long seconds, the tightness in my chest slowly eased, and I forced myself to breathe, to steady my shaking nerves. Then I lifted my head and spoke.
"I'm…"
I tried speaking, but the word caught in my throat.
"…pregnant."
It took everything in me to say it. Just two words. Two words that could change everything. But before the second one fully settled in the air, his phone rang.
"Ashton," a woman's voice came through the speaker. "Something is wrong."
His entire presence shifted.
"Rebecca?" His voice softened instantly, the edge disappearing. "What happened?"
I stared straight ahead, not wanting to show him how hurt I was, my fingers curling tightly into my bag. I didn't need to hear the rest to know. He only ever sounded like that with one person.
Rebecca Larson.
"I'll come right now," he said gently. "Stay where you are and don't move, okay."
The car came to a stop as he slammed on the brakes.
Just like that, the warmth vanished. He turned his head slightly and looked at me like I was an inconvenience.
"Get out," he said.
No explanation. No hesitation.
I nodded.
This was not the first time he had done this. I swallowed the words I had wanted to say and pushed the door open. The night air hit my face as I stepped out, and he drove off without another glance.
Standing there alone, I felt foolish.
Our bond had never been born from love. It was forced by fate and authority, nothing more. His heart already belonged to someone else, so my presence had always felt unnecessary. Maybe even in the way.
Two years ago, his grandfather, George Fuller, had collapsed from a heart attack. Lying in that hospital bed, he had demanded that Ashton secure the future of the pack by claiming a mate. I had been chosen.
Ashton agreed for his grandfather's sake. Nothing more.
For two years, while the old man lived, Ashton ignored me. He didn't hurt me, didn't humiliate me; he simply acted as though I didn't exist. And now that his grandfather was gone, he was done pretending.
The divorce papers were already waiting.
When I finally got to the villa, the sky was fully dark. The house felt empty and cold, and my appetite was gone. Maybe it was the pregnancy.
I went straight to my room, had a shower, and lay down.
Sleep came slowly.
Sometime later, still feeling sleepy, I heard the sound of a car pulling into the courtyard. An engine shuts off.
My eyes opened.
Is Ashton back?
Wasn't he supposed to be with Rebecca?