Being pregnant with twins apparently meant I was now a national treasure. Or a very fragile piece of glass.
"I have to go to the city," Killian announced two days later, fastening his cufflinks. He looked annoyed at the prospect of leaving. "The Council is demanding a meeting about the border territories. If I don't show, they'll come here."
"Go," I said, adjusting his tie. It felt strangely domestic, a routine we had fallen into effortlessly. "We'll be fine. I have Netflix and a view."
Killian caught my hand and kissed the palm. "I've increased the perimeter guards. And I hired some staff to help you. Cooking, cleaning... you shouldn't be lifting a finger."
"Staff?" I hesitated. "Strangers?"
"Vetted strangers," Killian assured me. "They are from a neutral pack. They don't know who you are, just that they are paid well to be discreet."
He kissed me hard, a lingering taste of coffee and possession, and then he was gone.
An hour later, the staff arrived. Two older women for the kitchen, and a younger girl, maybe nineteen, for housekeeping. Her name was Mara. She had mousy brown hair and kept her head bowed low, looking terrified.
"I'll just... change the linens, Miss," Mara squeaked, clutching a bundle of fresh sheets.
"Go ahead," I said, settling onto the sofa with a book.
I tried to read, but my wolf was restless. It paced in the back of my mind, scratching at the edges of my consciousness. Danger, it whispered. Watch.
I glanced toward the bedroom door. It was slightly ajar.
Mara had been in there for a long time. Changing a bedsheet shouldn't take twenty minutes.
Quietly, I set my book down. I didn't wear shoes—the thick carpets muffled my footsteps completely. I crept toward the bedroom, moving like a shadow.
Through the crack in the door, I saw her.
Mara wasn't changing the sheets. She was standing by the vanity table.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
She was holding my hairbrush. With shaking hands, she was pulling strands of my hair from the bristles and carefully placing them into a small, clear plastic zip-lock bag.
A DNA sample.
Or worse, a component for a hex. But in this modern pack life, DNA was the more likely weapon. Someone wanted to prove who the baby belonged to. Or prove that I was pregnant in the first place.
Chloe. Or Liam.
Rage, cold and sharp, flooded my veins.
I didn't scream. I didn't run. I pushed the door open.
"Find what you're looking for?"
Mara jumped a foot in the air. The hairbrush clattered to the floor. She spun around, clutching the plastic bag to her chest, her face draining of all color.
"M-Miss!" she stammered. "I... I was just cleaning..."
"Cleaning my hair into a plastic bag?" I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms. "Who sent you?"
"No one! I swear!" Mara backed away until she hit the vanity. "I just... I have a weird habit... collecting things..."
"Don't lie to me," I cut her off, my voice dropping. "I grew up in a house full of liars. I know what they look like."
I took a step forward.
"Was it Chloe? Did she pay you? Or was it Liam?"
Mara started to cry. "Please... please don't tell the Alpha. He'll kill me. She said it was harmless! She just wanted to know if you were... really expecting."
"She," I noted. "So it was Chloe."
I held out my hand. "Give it to me."
Mara hesitated, her eyes darting to the door as if measuring her chances of running past me.
"Don't even think about it," I warned. "The guards outside answer to Killian. If I scream, you won't make it to the gate."
Defeated, Mara handed over the plastic bag.
I looked at the strands of my hair—dark, long hair that Chloe probably wanted to send to a lab.
"Pack your things," I said coldly.
"You... you're firing me?"
"I'm saving your life," I corrected. "If Killian finds out you tried to steal from us, firing you would be the least of your worries. Leave. Now. And tell Chloe..."
I paused, a cruel idea forming in my mind.
I walked over to the trash bin where Killian had thrown a used tissue earlier that morning. I grabbed it—it was gross, but it had his scent, his DNA all over it. I shoved it into the bag with my hair.
"Tell her you got what she wanted," I said, handing the bag back to the confused girl. "Give her that."
Mara looked at me like I was insane. "What?"
"You want to get paid, don't you? Give her the sample. Let her run the test."
I smiled. It was a dangerous smile.
If Chloe ran a DNA test on that mixture, the results would be chaotic. It would show my DNA... and the undeniable, Royal markers of the Alpha King.
Let her see it on paper. Let her see exactly who she was messing with.
"Go," I commanded.
Mara scrambled out of the room, clutching the bag like a lifeline.
I watched her go, my heart pounding.
I had just sent a declaration of war directly to my sister's doorstep.
When Killian came back, I wouldn't tell him about Mara. Not yet.
This was my fight. And I had just played my first card.