The deadly silence behind the oak door froze even the biting air of the corridor. Behind me, Ivy stood with her breath completely hitched, staring at me as my hands instinctively settled over my womb, right over the white-gold embroidery of my wedding gown, resting upon my ghost babies.
Garm had planted such a seed of doubt in Varg's mind that this very seed was the first spark of a fire that would burn Alberta from the inside out. The prophecy was shifting directions. The rules I had written, the destiny of the Omegas hanging between my two lips, the thousands of gold pouches hurled at my heels... all of it was about to be overshadowed by those five pureblood heirs.
As Varg's heavy, freezing footsteps directed toward the door, I felt the pitch-black aura behind the wood violently shudder. The doorknob slowly turned downward... As the freezing metal of the handle clicked, the savage, raw pride inside me hastily pulled me back into the dim shadows of the corridor.
