Chapter 57

Hannah

“Thanks for meeting me,” I said, shrugging off my jacket and sliding into the leather booth. “I didn’t want to do this over the phone.”

Viona arched an eyebrow, but she didn’t press me for details right away. Instead, she simply signaled the waiter for a couple of drinks as I withdrew the crumpled sheet of paper from my pocket.

It was a Friday night, and the restaurant that I had asked Viona to meet me in was as crowded as ever. I appreciated that—the noise gave us some privacy. And right now, Viona felt like the only person who I could truly trust.

“What’s that?” she finally asked once our drinks came.

“I had one of my diet pills analyzed by the apothecary.” I carefully unfolded the paper and slid it over to her face-down. “Look at the ingredients.”

Carefully picking up the paper, Viona’s eyes scanned the list of compounds before her gaze flickered up to meet mine. “Mifepristone,” she said softly. “Isn’t that what they use in the…”

I nodded grimly. “Someone has been slipping me abortion medication, masking it as a weight loss supplement.” The words felt like ash in my mouth. “For who knows how long.”

Viona blinked at me for a moment, a combination of worry and rage flickering through her eyes—I knew I could trust her just from that one look.

“I’ll kill whoever’s doing this,” she growled. “You don’t think it could be…”

Shaking my head, I raked my fingers through my hair. “No, I don’t think Noah would do something like this. But my maid seemed to suspect something was off about those pills from the start. She warned me…”

My voice trailed off as guilt and pain coiled together in my chest. How could I have been so blind?

“Then you need to tell Noah,” Viona said firmly. “If someone is targeting you like this, poisoning you to keep you from getting pregnant, then it counts as treason. Whoever is doing this needs to be punished.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Viona held up her hand to stop me.

“Look, I know things between you two have been… strained lately.” She grimaced faintly. “But this is serious, Hannah. Someone is trying to sabotage you, strip you of your ability to conceive an heir. Noah would want to help protect you—and your future child.”

A hollow laugh slipped past my lips as I leaned back in the booth, folding my arms across my chest. If only Viona knew that I was already pregnant, that I had died and so had my baby and we had both been given another chance by the Moon Goddess.

But I couldn’t tell her. Not quite yet.

“Would he, though? Or would he just accuse me of being naive and irresponsible for taking those damn pills in the first place?” I asked with a wry laugh.

Viona pursed her lips. “You won’t know unless you tell him the truth.”

I sighed, passing a hand over my face. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right; Noah did deserve to know what was going on. This affected him just as much as it did me, considering it was his heir someone seemed hellbent on preventing.

“I’ll think about it,” I finally conceded, offering Viona a halfhearted shrug.

She studied me for a moment longer, then seemed to accept my response with a short nod.

“Fair enough. Just don’t wait too—”

A sudden commotion from the other side of the bar cut Viona off, both of us turning in unison toward the sound.

My eyes widened as I spotted James, my bodyguard who had accompanied me to the restaurant, standing face-to-face with another man I didn’t recognize—although, judging from his thick black tattoos and his distinctive white-blond hair, he was from one of the Northern packs and not Nightcrest.

“What’s going on over there?” I muttered.

Before Viona could respond, I was already sliding out of the booth and striding across the crowded bar floor, dodging servers carrying trays of drinks. The closer I got, the clearer the raised voices became, the stranger’s words slurring.

“...think you can just hit on my wife like that?” he was growling, jabbing an accusing finger at James’s chest. “Show some respect!”

James simply held up his palms in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the lady was spoken for,” he said evenly. “Allow me to send over some drinks to make amends—”

“Don’t patronize me,” the irate man snarled, giving James’s shoulder a forceful shove that nearly knocked him off balance.

That was enough for me. “Hey!” I snapped, my temper flaring as I hurried forward and planted myself between the two bristling men. “What’s your problem?”

“Mind your own business, bi—” The man’s eyes widened as he finally registered who I was. “L-Luna Hannah,” he stammered, some of that drunken bravado fading. “I, uh—”

“You’re going to apologize to my friend here,” I cut him off sharply. “And then you’re going to go sleep it off before I have you thrown out of this establishment entirely.”

He opened his mouth—likely to protest—but I held up a hand to silence him, my glare boring daggers into his skull.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” I said. “Apologize. Now.”

The man swallowed hard, then finally mumbled a halfhearted apology in James’s direction. I nodded curtly, satisfied for the moment, and turned to signal the bartender.

But before I could call out, I felt the stranger’s rough hand seize my arm in a bruising grip, whirling me back around with surprising force. “You know what?” he snarled, his words still slurred. “I don’t want to apologize. This ugly fucker tried to hit on my wife.”

Gasping, I stumbled, my back slamming hard into the edge of the bar as glasses toppled from the impact, shattering on the floor around me. James stepped forward, his fangs bared and ready to strike.

But before he could, a familiar deep voice cut through the din as a pair of strong hands clamped down on my assailant’s shoulders, wrenching him back. “Get your hands off of her!”

Drake.

Relief flooded through me as the tall Alpha stepped between us, his broad shoulders set in a defensive stance as he pushed the drunken man back so hard that he slammed into the bar and sent several glasses careening, shattering on the floor.

“You should go, Hannah,” Drake murmured, casting me a worried glance. “Before it gets ugly.”

“Like hell I’m leaving.” I shoved past Drake’s outstretched arm, ignoring his startled protest as I stalked right up to the drunken idiot who had dared to just manhandle me. Without hesitating, I reared back and landed a stinging slap across his cheek, the sound cracking through the sudden silence that had fallen over the bar.

The man staggered back a step, gaping at me in shock as he raised a hand to his reddened face. I could feel the blood pounding in my veins as I rounded on the bartender.

“Get this piece of trash out of here,” I bit out through gritted teeth. “If he or anyone else causes any more trouble, you have my permission to call their Alpha directly.”

The bartender nodded obediently, already gesturing for a trio of burly security officers to assist in forcibly removing the drunken man from the premises. Drake laid a hand on my arm, his expression tight with concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes searching my face. “He should be thrown in prison for touching a Luna like that.”

“I’m fine,” I said curtly, pulling free of his grip and smoothing my hands over my rumpled clothes. Shoving my hair back from my face, I turned to seek out Viona, finding her hovering nearby with James at her side.

“James,” I said, tilting my chin up, “what the hell did you do to piss him off like that?”

James stared down at the floor with a look of embarrassment on his face. “I bought a lady a drink. I didn’t know she had a husband.”

I couldn’t help but huff out a breathless laugh at that, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. “Take the rest of the night off,” I said. “Drake will take me home.”

“Will I, now?” Drake asked almost amusedly, raising an eyebrow at me.

I nodded and folded my arms across my chest. “You will.”

“My wish is your command, Luna.”

Not long later, I was sitting on my couch after the whole ordeal. The living room was dark save for the flickering light of the TV, although I wasn’t watching the cheesy movie that was playing; rather, my eyes were glued to my phone, where one last text from Drake stared up at me.

“I didn’t get the chance to say this earlier, but I’m really impressed with how you handled that situation,” he said. “And I’d also like to ask… Would you like to go out tomorrow? Lunch?”

Shrugging to myself, I sent back a simple text: “Sure. Pick me up at noon.”

No sooner had I hit send, however, was the phone suddenly yanked out of my hand. I gasped, turning and looking up to see Noah standing behind the couch, his lips twisted into a scowl.

“You can’t hang out with Drake,” he growled. “I won’t allow it.”