Chapter 3

I woke on the morning of the third day.

For a few seconds I thought it was the next morning. Then I saw the date on my phone. Thirty-six hours had passed since I lay down after treatment.

My phone had a few notifications. Nothing from Lucian.

No reply to either of my messages.

The unclaimed transfer had expired and returned to his account. Underneath it, a gray notice — the payment I had sent back.

I opened his profile.

Ten minutes earlier, he had posted nine photographs from his island vacation with Camille. Blue water, a white beach, a suite full of flowers. In one, he stood behind her fastening her life jacket, his head bent close to hers.

He got that face when he was taking care of someone. I remembered it.

Someone's afraid of the water, the caption read. We stayed a few extra days for her. Flying home this morning.

Their friends had filled the comments.

Since when does Lucian have this much patience?

Camille has him trained.

How long are you two going to pretend you're just childhood friends?

I scrolled farther.

She had mentioned wanting to visit the island, and he had cleared his schedule. On another night, she had wanted sweet porridge from a shop across the city. He had driven there at midnight.

When she had a fever, he had postponed a treaty negotiation to stay beside her bed.

I had seen the photographs as she posted them. This morning, with no answer in our chat, I looked at them all again.

He remembered what she liked. He noticed when she was uncomfortable. None of it had ever been hard for him. He just did it for someone else now.

At twenty, he had fought for nineteen-year-old me just as fiercely. When the elders refused to recognize an outsider as Luna, he had spent months arguing with them.

He had found the ring I always stopped to look at in a jeweler's window and bought it at auction, outbidding everyone.

I zoomed in on the photograph. His hand on Camille's life jacket.

His own ring was gone.

I set the phone down.

My throat was dry. I tried to get up for water, but the pain forced me back onto the mattress. It took me several tries to sit up long enough for my next dose.

Lucian called later that day, after the herbs had begun to help. "Dinner at the packhouse tonight."

I closed my eyes at the sound of his voice. "I'm not well."

He laughed under his breath.

"You always say that when you want money."

"Lucian—"

"If you can still hold your human form, you can come to dinner. You're the Luna. Don't embarrass me." He ended the call.

I stayed where I was for a moment, holding the phone against my ear.

Seven days at most. The healer had given me an upper limit, not a promise. Already, my wolf felt weaker than she had when I left the clinic.

Soon Lucian wouldn't have to worry about me embarrassing him at all.

I took the stronger dose and waited to see if it would hold me upright. Then I got dressed.

By the time I got to the packhouse, everyone else had gathered in the living room.

Camille sat beside Lucian's mother, the former Luna. She was feeding her slices of fruit and making her laugh. The older woman held her wrist affectionately whenever she leaned away.

Lucian sat nearby with his phone in his hand.

The laughter paused when I entered. Then someone called everyone to dinner, and a pack member pulled out a chair for me at the far end of the table.

Camille took the place beside Lucian's mother. No one asked her to move.

I sat down carefully. Across the long stretch of polished wood, they talked about jewelry and handbags. A serving dish passed from hand to hand, stopping well before it reached me.

The pain returned before I had eaten anything. I pressed my knees together under the table and waited for it to ease. Sweat collected at my hairline.

At last, Lucian's mother looked toward me.

"Still no sign of a pup, Nora? It's been three years."

Her gaze slid over my face and moved on.

"What use is an outsider as Luna if she can't even give the pack an heir?"