Shey still for a moment, blinking at the ornate ceiling. White. Trimmed with gold leaf. A crystal chandelier hung above her delicate and too bright. Her fingers curled around the edge of a silken nket. She sat up


    fast.


    A bed. King–sized. Velvet headboard. Gold and ivory ents everywhere. It was too much. The kind of luxury she hadn’t touched since walking out of her father’s mansion.


    She wasn’t supposed to be here.


    Then it hit her.


    The car. The man. The ws. Logan.


    She remembered it all.


    Emery pushed the covers aside and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The moment her feet touched the carpet, the door opened.


    She froze.


    Logan stepped in, one hand holding a tray. Eggs. Toast. A bowl of fruit. Tea. No guards. “Awake?”


    Her breath caught. She remembered his eyes–burning gold, sharp, not human. She remembered the ws that destroyed the car. She remembered it all.


    “Eat,” he said. He walked across the room and ced the tray on the bedside table.


    She stood still, body tense.


    “Stay back,” she said, her voice low but firm.


    He adjusted the tray’s cement slightly, then stepped back–not toward the door, but toward a chair beside the wall. He pulled it out, sat down, and crossed one leg over the other. Then he leaned back and smirked at her.


    “Eat,” he said again. “Or I’ll feed you.”


    That made her move.


    Her fingers twitched slightly, then she stepped forward and reached for the toast.


    Logan didn’t say anything else.


    <b>He </b>just watched,


    She didn’t even realize how hungry she really was until the first sign of food reached her stomach. She


    quickly gobbled it up but her hunger didn’t stop her from ring at him.


    Logan didn’t flinch. He only smirked, resting one arm on the chair’s armrest like he had all the time in the world.


    Emery took another bite and chewed slowly, eyes never leaving his face.


    “How did I faint?” she asked, wiping her mouth with a napkin.


    He didn’t answer right away.


    She already knew the answer. The way his eyes changed. The way his body moved. The ws that ripped the car open like it was paper.


    “You’re pregnant,” he said, uncrossing his legs. “You were exhausted. A little stress can push your body over the edge.”


    She leaned back slightly and set the toast down.


    “What happened to that man?” she asked.


    “He’s alive,” Logan replied. “If that’s what you want to know.”


    <b>“</b>I want the truth.”


    Logan nodded once. “Then I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”


    She swallowed.


    Something about his calmness made her stomach tighten. But there was no fear. A part of her—whether it was instinct or something else–knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Not her. Not the child.


    She looked at him. “What are you?”


    Logan didn’t look away.


    “There are stories,” he said, hands folded loosely. “From different cultures. In Norse legend, there’s the ulfhéōnar–warriors who wore wolf pelts and fought like beasts. In Eastern Europe, the va–creatures who could shift between man and wolf. The Greeks had the Lykaon myth. Even Native American tribes spoke of skinwalkers. Every continent has its own version. Always a man… who bes something else.”


    He leaned forward slightly.


    “Some called them protectors. Others called them cursed. But the name that stuck-


    He paused,


    “I’m a werewolf.”


    Emery sat still, trying to process. Her chest rose and fell slowly. She had guess this, already but hearing him say it so casually made her wonder why he was so calm.


    :


    “Like Jacob…” she mumbled, recalling a movie she hadn’t thought about in years.


    “Jacob?” Logan lifted an eyebrow.


    “From that movie… the one with the vampires and the werewolves.”


    Logan chuckled once. “That’s not the reaction I expected.”


    Emery said nothing. Her eyes dropped to the tray before lifting again. “Are the others like you?”


    He nodded. “Everyone in this house. My brothers. My sister. My guards. All of them.”


    41


    55 vouchers


    She pursed her lips, then nced toward the door and back at him. “So… being a werewolf means you can transform into that… thing<b>?</b><b>” </b>


    “<b>I </b>can,” he said. “If I want to.”


    “What about full moons?” she asked. “Is that a thing?<b>” </b>


    He shook his head. “That’s a tale to scare children.”


    She let out a breath and looked at her hands. “So vampires and witches exist too?”


    Logan didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”


    Her stomach twisted. She swallowed hard.


    He leaned back. “Are you scared?”


    Emery stared at the half–eaten toast on her te. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m scared.”


    But she didn’t say anything else.


    She wasn’t stupid. At least, she liked to think so. But nothing in her life had prepared her for this. This wasn’t some secret affair or boardroom betrayal. This was another world entirely. A world with rules she didn’t understand. A world where Logan wasn’t just powerful. He wasn’t even human.


    She lifted her eyes again. “The man who took me… the one in the suit. Is he one too?”


    “Yes,” Logan said. “He’s my brother. My younger brother. Biological.”


    Her forehead creased. “That’s how you treat family?”


    “That’s exactly how we treat family,” he said.


    Emery’s mind stalled.


    Logan’s brother had kidnapped her. Threatened her. Called her unborn child a beast. If that was family… what the hell did enemies look like?


    She looked at Logan again. Her fingers clenched slightly around the edge of the nket.


    “I need to know something,” she said, quieter this time. “Am I dying<b>?</b><b>” </b>


    He didn’t speak.


    She forced herself to continue. “Carrying this child… your child… <b>is </b>it going to kill me?”


    “I knew you would ask that,” Logan said. He stood, walked to the nightstand, and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a tablet, tapped it a few times, then handed it to her.


    Emery hesitated before taking it. She nced at him, then looked at the screen.


    Bloodwork. Multiple files. Daily tests. Her name <b>is </b>stamped clearly at the top.


    She scrolled slowly. Everything was in range. Heart rate. Blood pressure. Iron. Hormones.


    Everything was normal.


    Too normal.


    She frowned and looked at him. “These are fine.”


    “That’s the problem,” Logan said. “They’re too fine.”


    Her grip on the tablet tightened. “What do you mean?”


    “A human can’t carry a supernatural’s child,” he said. “The body isn’t built for it. The changes-” He paused. “Most women don’t make it to the third month.”


    Emery’s hand moved to her stomach.


    “But I’m still alive.”


    “You are,” Logan said. “And you’re not showing any signs of dying.”


    She looked up sharply. “What does that mean?”


    He shifted slightly, leaning back again. “It means I and everyone else thought you would’ve sumbed by


    now<i>.</i><i>” </i>


    Her throat tightened. She ced the tablet on herp, then looked at him again.


    “Then did you marry me,” she asked. “Because you thought I was going to die?”