The words struck Valerie rcilessly.
She thought of Demian his cold gaze, his possessiveness, his often unrestrained anger, and the quiet attention that now felt stronger than ever. She rembered how he never truly let her go, yet could not fully walk away either.
Valerie shook her head weakly. "No..."
Her chest tightened.
"So..." Her voice trembled as she looked at Lena. "Everything he feels for everything that’s happening was it all because of that potion?"
For the first ti, Lena did not answer at once.
She studied Valerie for a long mont, as if weighing the truth she was about to speak. A small smile touched her lips not sly, but laced with irony.
"It isn’t that simple, good child," she said at last.
She stepped closer. "The potion opens a door. It makes you seen, sensed, desired."
Lena touched her own chest. "But whether soone steps inside and chooses to stay... that is their own decision."
Her gaze fell to Valerie’s abdon. "The potion cannot force love. It only amplifies what already exists attraction, obsession, the urge to possess."
Valerie fell silent.
"If he were rely interested," Lena continued softly, "he would grow bored. If he were only captivated, he would leave."
Lena gave a thin smile. "But if his old bond begins to crack, if he cos to want a child from you... that is not because of the potion."
Silence.
Valerie lowered her head, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.
"So this isn’t entirely my fault?" she whispered.
Lena chuckled lightly. "Oh, you still played a part. You drank it. You walked toward him."
Then she leaned in, whispering, "But now, your life can no longer be rewound."
Valerie gently brushed a hand over her abdon.
And for the first ti, she realized what frightened her most was not the potion at all...
but the possibility that Demian’s feelings, however dark and complicated, might truly be real.
Valerie swallowed hard, trying to process everything. Her head felt full—overwheld, as though she were being forced to accept a truth far too large to hold all at once.
"How is it possible..." her voice was low but tense, "that he could damage a bond that’s existed since childhood?"
Lena looked at her for a long mont, then shrugged lightly, as if she were talking about sothing simple."It could be his own desire."
Valerie frowned. "His... desire?"
"Lust," Lena answered without hesitation. "And obsession."
The words fell heavily between them.
"A desire he never fully controlled," Lena continued. "An obsession that deepened every ti you were near him."
Lena’s gaze dropped to Valerie’s abdon this ti lingering longer. More serious.
"Enough to make you carry his child."
Valerie froze.
Lena let out a small sigh. "Do you know how difficult it is for a woman to conceive a child from the Morvex bloodline?"
Valerie shook her head slowly.
"It’s nearly impossible," Lena said. "Their blood is strong, wild, and selective. Many won have tried almost none have succeeded."
Valerie stared at her, eyes wide.
"You did," Lena went on quietly. "Because within you... there is sothing compatible. Your blood accepted his."
Valerie shuddered. "Then... why ?"
Lena smiled crookedly, a smile not entirely kind. "An honest question."
She thought for a mont, then said lightly yet sharply, "Perhaps when he found you... he was in heat."
Valerie flinched. "In heat?"
The word sounded harsh to her foreign, humiliating, and deeply unsettling.
Lena nodded. "There are certain periods for wolves. Cycles they cannot entirely resist."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "You’ll understand soday when you catch that thick, intoxicating scent from his body. A scent that makes your breathing grow heavy for no clear reason."
Valerie rembered certain nights when Demian felt different. Hotter. Closer. More... impatient.
"That’s the sign," Lena continued. "That at that mont... he wanted only you."
The room seed to close in.
"It isn’t re fleeting desire," Lena added. "During that ti, a wolf chooses. And if he chose you."
Valerie clenched the hem of her gown.
"Then his body and his instincts have already marked you."
Valerie closed her eyes briefly, her breath trembling. "So I was just... a victim of instinct?"
Lena shook her head slowly. "Not entirely."
She looked at Valerie with an unreadable expression. "Instinct may choose. But to remain, to bind, to create a child... that goes beyond lust."
Valerie opened her eyes and looked down at her own abdon.
And in her heart, a new fear took shape not only about whether Demian loved her... but about how deep and how dark the reasons were that made him choose her in the first place.
Valerie lowered her head, both hands clasped together in front of her abdon. Her face was pale not from nausea this ti, but from the turmoil churning in her chest.
"Then..." her voice trembled, "how do I break that bond?"
She lifted her face and looked straight at Lena. "This doesn’t feel right. All of this... it feels as though it was never my choice."
The room fell suddenly silent. Even the glass bottles on the shelves seed to stop shimring.
Lena studied Valerie for a long ti much longer than before. Her smile faded, replaced by a calm, almost solemn expression.
"Do you truly want to free yourself from him?" Lena asked softly.
The question was simple, yet unbearably heavy.
Valerie fell silent. Her breath caught in her throat. She closed her eyes for a mont, as if gathering the courage to be honest both with Lena and with herself.
"If it’s possible..." she said at last, quietly but firmly, "then yes. I want that."
She opened her eyes. They were wet, but no tears fell.
"I don’t want to stand between two people whose bond hasn’t ended," she continued. "I don’t want to live as the third person. Not now. Not ever. Especially not with this child."
Her hand moved instinctively to her abdon, a small gesture filled with aning.
Lena exhaled slowly. "You should know," she said, "many co to asking to be released. Very few are truly prepared for the consequences."
Valerie frowned. "What consequences?"
Lena stepped closer. "A bond isn’t only about what he feels for you," she said gently. "It’s also about what has already taken root within you."
Her gaze dropped briefly to Valerie’s abdon, then returned to her eyes. "Letting go ans giving up protection. Attention. Status. Perhaps even... a comfortable future."
Valerie gave a thin, bitter smile. "What use is any of that if I have to live with guilt?"
Lena fell silent.
For a mont, she resembled the old woman again not in appearance, but in the weight of her wisdom.
"You are not a weak woman," Lena said at last. "And you are not a puppet of a potion."
She lifted Valerie’s chin with two fingers, gentle yet firm. "If you want to be free, you must decide one thing first."
"What?" Valerie asked.
"Are you leaving because you are afraid," Lena said softly, "or because you truly want to choose your own life?"
Valerie was silent for a long ti.
In her mind appeared Demian’s face cold, possessive, yet quietly protective. Ivanka ca next, a bond from the past that had not yet been severed. Then the child growing inside her.
"I..." her voice was barely a whisper, "want to choose myself."
Lena smiled faintly. Not a smile of triumph but of recognition.
"Then," she said, "that path exists. But it will not be easy. And it will not be without pain."
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