Chapter 182

Hannah

I sat alone in my room, my face buried in my knees as I sobbed endlessly. The silence of the house was deafening, broken only by my occasional hiccups and sniffles. Noah had been gone for hours, and with each passing minute, my anxiety grew.

He was probably calling the police. I would likely give birth in a cell, my baby ripped from my arms moments after entering the world. The thought made me sick to my stomach, a fresh wave of nausea washing over me.

My eyes darted to the window, where sunlight was still streaming through the curtains—it hadn’t been that long, although it had felt like hours that I had sat there crying.

Huffing, I pushed myself to my feet and walked over to the window, chewing my lip as I considered my options.

Maybe I could tie the sheets together, make a rope... But no, the drop was too far. I would likely break something if I fell, and in my condition, that wasn’t exactly a risk I could take. I couldn’t endanger my baby, not after everything I had done to protect it.

The walls seemed to close in on me as I stared out the window. The mansion’s grounds were peaceful, the groundskeepers meandering through the gardens. They likely hadn’t heard my cries for help. Or maybe they were just ignoring me, because they knew it was best not to cross their Alpha.

Goddess, how had everything gone so wrong? I had only wanted to protect my child, to give it the best life I could. Now, I might never even get to hold it.

Just as I was considering more desperate measures to escape imprisonment, I heard the front door open. My heart raced as footsteps approached, and I was picturing the police officers flanking Noah. As I heard the lock slide open, I was already imagining the inside of my cell: cold, gray, lifeless.

But, to my relief, when the door opened, Noah was alone. He carried a bag of takeout food, the smell making my stomach growl despite my anxiety.

“Eat,” he said without preamble, setting the bag on the bed beside me. His voice was gruff, but when I looked into his eyes, there was an expression of concern there that took me by surprise.

I shook my head, turning away and folding my arms across my chest. “I’m not hungry.” The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to accept anything from him right now.

Noah’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “When did you last throw up?”

I hesitated, debating whether to answer truthfully. Finally, I admitted reluctantly, “This morning. It was... pretty bad.”

“Then you need to eat to replenish yourself,” he insisted, his voice softening slightly. “If you don’t, I’ll have to force-feed you. I don’t think either of us wants that.”

I glared at him, but the look in his eyes told me he was serious. With a huff, I grabbed the bag and pulled out a container. The smell of chicken and vegetables wafted up, making my mouth water despite myself.

Flipping the lid open, I made a point of staring directly into Noah’s eyes as I took an enormous bite, chewing aggressively.

Noah, for what it was worth, seemed pleased that I was eating, his posture relaxing slightly as he sat down in a nearby chair.

“Look,” he muttered, “I’m… sorry for locking you in here earlier. That was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it, and I don’t have an excuse for it.”

He did sound genuinely apologetic, but I scoffed, speaking around a mouthful of food. “Oh, so now you feel remorse for treating your wife like a prisoner? Is it because I’m actually going to be a real prisoner soon, once I have my last meal here? Perhaps you pity me now.”

Noah sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The gesture was genuine enough to give me pause.

“I’m not going to punish you, Hannah. And I won’t let you go to prison.”

I paused mid-chew, surprised by his words. Hope bloomed in my chest, but I quickly squashed it down. There had to be a catch to this. There was always a catch with him.

“But,” he continued, confirming my suspicions, “I’m also not going to divorce you.”

I nearly choked on my food. “What?” I spluttered, coughing.

“I want a real marriage for our child, not a split household,” Noah explained, his eyes intense as they bore into mine. “And I know deep down, you want that too. I’ve seen how you’ve been trying to work on yourself for the benefit of our child. I want the chance to do the same.”

I set the food down, whatever appetite I’d previously had gone. “You can’t just decide that—”

“I am the Alpha, and I will decide.”

His tone was gruff, brooking no argument. I wanted to bite out a retort, but the words died before they even reached my tongue.

“So you just think you’re going to get ‘better’,” I whispered, lowering myself onto the bed. “Like that will save our sham of a marriage.”

Noah huffed, although whether from annoyance or agreement, I couldn’t tell. “Look, Hannah. We can’t work on ourselves separately without working on our relationship as well. We’ll have to work on our marriage for the child’s sake.”

He paused, rising, and crossed to the window. I held my breath as he brushed past me, not wanting to inhale his scent—because if I did, then I might soften. And right now, I was too furious for that.

“If that doesn’t work,” he continued, looking out the window with his back to me, “then we’ll come to some sort of co-parenting arrangement. But as things stand right now, divorce is officially out of the question.”

Fury bubbled up inside of me, so hot it was burning. I wanted to scream, to throw something, to make him understand that I didn’t love him anymore, that I couldn’t stay in a marriage with a man who couldn’t even remember our shared past, regardless of whether I carried his child or still felt turned on by his touch.

But I remained silent, the food now tasting like ash in my mouth. Still, I forced myself to pick up the container and keep eating, knowing that I needed the nutrients for the baby. Or if I needed to run at the last minute.

Noah turned, watching me for a moment before speaking again. “In the meantime, I will spend two hours a day with you for the duration of the pregnancy. And I want you to follow a strict meal, vitamin, and doctor’s appointment regimen to ensure the health of our heir.”

“You mean your heir,” I sneered, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

Noah’s eyes flashed. “No, Hannah. Our heir. We’re staying together, and that child is every bit yours as it is mine.”

I turned away, unable to bring myself to look at him. The weight of his words pressed down on me, suffocating.

“We’ll see about that,” I muttered. Then, a thought occurred to me, sending a chill down my spine. “Are you going to keep me locked in this room forever? Your little wife and broodmare, never to see the light of day again?”

“No,” Noah said firmly, returning his gaze to the window. “But if you try to run back to Silvermoon, I’ll come personally and bring you back myself.”

“So I’m still a prisoner.”

“Only if you want to look at it that way.”

I did look at it that way; in fact, I felt trapped, cornered. The walls seemed to close in again, and I jumped to my feet just as Noah turned fully to face me. “You’re a monster,” I spat, the words tasting like poison on my tongue.

Noah’s lips quirked up into a humorless smile. “You didn’t think I was a monster when I was inside of you not long ago.” He strode toward me, so close now that I could feel his warm breath on my face as his voice lowered to a husky timbre. “Or last night, when I felt how wet you were.” His eyes flicked to my thighs, which were exposed beneath my skirt.

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Rage surged through me, and I couldn’t control it any longer.

Without thinking, I spat directly onto his shoe, a small act of defiance.

Noah’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he might yell. I braced myself for his anger, for the punishment I was sure would come.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he calmly pulled out his pocket square, bent down, and cleaned his shoe off.

“I’ll take you to your appointment in the morning,” he said, his voice eerily calm. The lack of reaction unnerved me more than any shouting would have. “I apologize again for locking you in here earlier. It won’t happen again.”

Without another word, he turned and left the room. I waited, my heart pounding in my chest, expecting to hear the lock click.

But it didn’t. He had kept true to his word—for now, at least.