María José flinched when I said her na.
"María José," I repeated, gently, the way a parent might call a startled animal. "You’re safe. It’s just ."
Just . As if that should an sothing. As if I hadn’t spent the last five months building a throne out of lies and compulsion just to sit at her side.
She was still frozen. She had one hand pressed to the underside of her belly, and the other caught between clutching her towel and reaching for sothing that could ground her. Her eyes were wide, darting from the locked door to my face and back again.
I stepped forward, slowly, like she was a deer in the woods. I hated that she looked at with fear. Not because I didn’t deserve it—no, I did, but because I wanted more than fear. I wanted ownership. I wanted her under , not beneath .
"Don’t look at like that," I said softly, brushing a hand through my hair. "I didn’t an to scare you. I just... I lost myself for a second."
"You kissed ," she whispered, voice hoarse. "Why would you..."
I reached for her, brushing her shoulder, but she jerked away.
"I’ve been here... through everything. The hearings. The baby. Axel’s ghosting you at night. I listen to you. I make you tea. I hold you when you cry. I..."
She snapped. "That’s what friends do, Mateo! That’s all you were ever ant to be."
The word burned. Friends.
No. No, no, no. I had not done all of this to be friend-zoned like so forgettable stable hand. I’d earned my place. My throne. My family. My child.
My jaw clenched as I stepped closer. She backed into the dresser. Her fingers shook.
"Mateo..." she whispered it now like it was a ward, not a na.
Wrong, Luis.
She didn’t know it, not truly. Not consciously. But so part of her still rembered. That was the problem with compulsion, there were always cracks. Deep ones. Soul-level cracks that mory-wiping couldn’t always seal.
My hand reached toward her again, slower this ti, like I was calming a skittish mare.
"Let explain," I murmured. "Let just..."
She stepped away. "No."
But I was already too close. I couldn’t stop. My fingers brushed her cheek, and she went stiff. She stopped breathing. My thumb hovered at her lips. The sll of her clean skin, heat, motherhood, sent a sick kind of pleasure uncoiling in my stomach.
I dipped my head and I kissed her again. This ti, she didn’t scream. That’s the kind of woman María José had grown up to be. She doesn’t scream or panic anymore. She was no longer timid or afraid. If there was a problem, she’d face it head-on.
Before her pregnancy had llowed her strength, she used to fight before I’d send her wolf to slumber and then erase her mories after making love to her. However, my child seed to be taking a toll on her strength.
"It will feed on her soul, wolf, and strength. But my daughter is powerful enough. She’ll survive it." The devil had said to so nights back.
"What if she doesn’t survive, master?" I’d asked.
And as though he wasn’t declaring the potential death of his daughter, "Then she dies, Luis. She has already given us this child. She’s fulfilled her destiny." He’d replied with a straight face.
I rembered falling on my knees, begging for the devil to spare the love of my life. And when he asked: "Do you not believe in her strength?"
I was humbled. Thus, I chose to believe in her capability. In our love...
Right now, she didn’t kiss back. Her lips were soft and unmoving as if she were too stunned to even breathe.
"Please don’t..." she breathed against .
"I need you," I whispered. "You’re mine. You don’t know it yet, but you’re..."
"I said stop," she hollered, shoving at my chest. "This isn’t you."
It was . For the first ti in weeks, I was being exactly who I was. I gripped her wrist firmly enough to stop her from walking away.
"You’re mine, María José. You can not escape ."
"I-Ignacio?!" She gasped, awestruck.
Finally!
Every ti I tried to claim her, she’d crack the code and learn of who I really was. That alone was proof of our love. Despite the borrowed skin, despite all the lies, María José could spot in a room of thousands if she looked well enough.
I groaned. "In the flesh, mi Amor."
I reached for my buttons, undoing the first two, slowly,. Her eyes flicked down and widened in alarm.
"What are you doing, you disgusting demon?! You’ve been Mateo all along? Deceiving ?!" she sobbed, unable to bear the reality.
My fingers paused.
I wanted her. Gods, I wanted her. She looked like a vision with that flushed skin, red hair damp against her neck, belly glowing under the soft towel. She was the mother of my child. My claim. My reward.
But then... I felt a shudder in the air. Sothing... off. The wards I’d laid, the soundproofing, diversion, mory fog, all of it had twitched like static. My skin prickled. My demon lifted its head.
No. Not now. How? What’s going on? I turned my head sharply toward the door and felt Axel coming. I could feel it like thunder in the soles of my feet. But how? He shouldn’t even be on this floor, much less aware of this hallway. I’d spelled the air, cloaked the corridors, rerouted every sense away from this mont.
Unless... Unless soone was with him.
No.
No.
I had sealed this room with a deterrent spell. Anyone approaching should’ve been repelled with a mory wipe or redirected back toward the eastern wing. But Axel was cutting through the veil
Shit.
I turned back to María. She was trembling now, backing toward the bed, the confusion in her eyes slowly solidifying into sothing that would beco mory. Accusation.
Was this it? The end for us?
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