*~Young Hazel’s POV~*
My legs buckled beneath , a sharp pain tearing through my stomach. I let out a strangled cry and stumbled forward. The ground tilted, my breath caught, and before I could steady myself, I let my body fall.
"Lilith!" Alice shrieked.
Jonathan was at my side before I even hit the dirt, his arms wrapping around , strong and urgent. His face twisted with alarm as he turned to Alice, his voice ragged.
"Fine," he growled. "Let’s help her."
Alice didn’t waste a second. Together, they lifted carefully, Jonathan’s arm steadying my back while Alice supported my side. Every step toward Crescent territory made my heart pound. This was it—the mont I’d dreaded and prayed for all at once.
As we broke through the trees into the heart of the Crescent lands, silence rippled across the clearing like a wave. Dozens of eyes turned toward , and then widened as they caught sight of my swollen stomach, my frail figure being carried by Jonathan and Alice.
Gasps filled the air.
And then—Ruby.
She stord forward, flanked by her ever-loyal shadows, her voice rising above the stunned hush. "What the hell is she doing here?" Her finger stabbed toward , venom dripping from every word. "Jonathan, Alice—are you out of your minds bringing her back? She’s nothing but a traitor!"
The murmurs swelled, anger and confusion stirring like wildfire.
I kept my eyes lowered, breathing shallow, hands pressed protectively over my stomach. Let them see this way. Let them see weakness.
Jonathan’s voice cracked like a whip through the noise.
"Enough."
Silence.
His gaze swept the crowd, his authority undeniable even through the fury still burning in his veins. "She needs help. And once a Crescent, always a Crescent." His tone left no room for argunt, though his jaw was tight, his eyes dark with conflict.
The pack shifted uneasily, glancing at one another, but no one dared challenge him outright. Ruby’s mouth opened, fury trembling on her lips, but she snapped it shut when Jonathan’s glare t hers.
Without another word, Alice and Jonathan carried inside one of the huts. The familiar scent of herbs and wood smoke filled my lungs, grounding . They laid down on a soft mat, and I curled slightly, clutching my stomach as another cramp rippled through .
Alice knelt beside instantly, her hands fluttering over my forehead, brushing strands of hair from my damp skin. "Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay," she whispered, though her own voice shook. She reached for a wooden cup and pressed it to my lips. "Drink, Lilith. Water will help."
The cool liquid slid down my throat, soothing but heavy. My lips trembled with gratitude, though I didn’t speak.
Alice tore off a piece of bread from a nearby tray and coaxed it into my hand. "Here, eat sothing. You need your strength."
Alice eventually stood, brushing crumbs from her hands, her eyes flickering between and Jonathan. Her jaw was tight—she didn’t trust leaving us alone, I could see it. But duty called; the pack outside was restless, questions flying, and she needed to calm them before Ruby stirred up open rebellion.
"I’ll be back soon," Alice said softly, squeezing my hand before slipping out.
The mont the door closed behind her, silence smothered the air. The warmth she’d left seed to vanish with her. Jonathan leaned against the wooden post, arms folded, his eyes locked on like a predator studying prey.
I shifted uncomfortably under his stare, my fingers instinctively covering my stomach.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was low, steady, but laced with venom.
"Marcus."
The na alone made my skin crawl. My throat tightened.
"I should’ve killed him the night I had the chance," Jonathan continued, pushing off the post, pacing slowly toward . "And I would have—if you hadn’t stopped ." His jaw clenched, eyes flashing with that wolfish fire I rembered all too well. "You betrayed your Crescent family for him."
"I didn’t—" My protest broke, weak, unconvincing even to myself.
Jonathan’s laugh was bitter, hollow. "Don’t. Don’t waste your breath with lies, Lilith." He stopped just a few steps from , crouching so his eyes were level with mine. His nearness made the mate-bond stir in my veins, a rush of heat and ache that I hated myself for feeling.
"You were mine," he whispered, voice rough now, quieter but far more dangerous. "My mate. You think I don’t still feel it? Even now? That pull?" His gaze dragged down to my swollen belly, lingering there, and my heart thundered.
His voice broke into sothing raw. "And yet—you carry his child."
I swallowed hard, clutching my stomach protectively. The air between us was sharp, crackling, heavy with everything unspoken.
Jonathan’s hand twitched, like he wanted to reach out but forced himself not to. "Do you have any idea what it feels like," he hissed, "to feel the bond tearing toward you, only to look at you and see him every ti that child kicks?"
My lips parted, but no sound ca out. My throat burned with words I couldn’t form.
Jonathan’s eyes softened just for a second, pain breaking through the anger. His fingers brushed the edge of the mat I sat on, like he was torn between fury and the need to touch . "You were supposed to be mine," he said again, quieter this ti, like a confession dragged out of him.
The baby shifted inside , a kick so sudden that I gasped. Jonathan’s eyes snapped to my stomach, and for the first ti, his face betrayed sothing he’d been trying to bury—wonder. Pain. Longing.
I could feel him struggling, torn between the bond that scread I was his mate and the reality that another man’s child grew inside . His breathing quickened, nostrils flaring as though fighting his wolf’s instincts.
"You’re still mine," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to . His eyes darkened, but not with hatred—sothing more complicated, sothing dangerous.
I tightened my grip around my belly, unsure if I wanted to run from him...or collapse into his arms.
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