Prologue

Ronan paced in his chambers, the cool stone beneath his boots grounding him as his mind raced in circles. The gnawing feeling in his stomach had been there for days, something that gnawed deeper than hunger or thirst. A sense of heaviness, a growing weight that he couldn’t explain. And now, there was the nauseous twist in his gut, the dizziness, the strange tenderness in his chest... All of it building inside him, relentless.

He had never felt like this before. Not even when his body had been tested in battle or pushed to extremes in training. But this, this was different. His body was betraying him.

At first, he thought it was a fever. Perhaps the poison of the last battle, lingering just beneath his skin. Or maybe exhaustion from the constant pressure to lead, to bear the crown he had never wanted. But the signs were growing clearer now, undeniable. His temperature fluctuated, his mood swinging wildly without cause. And then... then came the undeniable truth.

His breath hitched as he pulled open the letter from his healer, her careful handwriting spelling out what he had feared. `Pregnant. ´

He crumpled the paper in his hand, rage surging through his veins, hotter than the fever he’d been fighting. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. He was an alpha, or at least was what he thought. Strong, dominant, born to lead and to conquer. Not a breeding vessel. He was a prince… his bloodline, pure.

But the truth was there, gnawing at him like a wild beast. The signs. The weight. The unmistakable symptoms that no amount of denial could erase.

How could this have happened? His mind flashed back to that night, that godforsaken night. The heat that had consumed him. The pheromones… his… spreading in the air, drawing Dimitri closer. Ronan’s heart hammered in his chest as his mind painted the image, the vampire's mouth on his neck, his sharp teeth marking the sensitive skin, his body… relentless. How could he, an alpha, lose control like that? How could Dimitri have been drawn to him in such a primal way?

The night wasn’t supposed to matter. Their marriage had been nothing but a political alliance. A game of survival. Nothing more.

But Dimitri… Dimitri… had taken the bait, hadn’t he? The vampire had always been too arrogant, too confident in his own power. Was it Dimitri who had manipulated him that night? Or had it been Ronan, his own pheromones acting as the key that unlocked this damnable mistake?

Ronan clenched his fists, the anger flaring up again. The child. Was it worth it? Was it worth bringing a life into this world, into a union of convenience? Into this... madness?

He hated this. He hated the helplessness of it all. The fact that his body had betrayed him, that he was tangled in something he couldn’t control, something that wasn’t part of his plan.

But most of all, he hated that Dimitri… that vampire… was somehow connected to all of it.

The thought of telling him… No, he wouldn’t. Not yet. He couldn’t.