Zane's POV
I read the report twice.
Then I set it down and I stare at it like the words might rearrange themselves into something that makes more sense. They don't.
I pick it up again.
Greywater. Female. Visibly pregnant. Living quietly. The description matches exactly. Bonding dress long gone but the face is the same. The grey eyes. The way she moves through the world like she's always slightly apologizing for taking up space.
Five months along by Marcus's estimate.
I do the math in my head and the numbers line up perfectly. Too perfectly. She left Ashford territory six weeks ago. If she's five months along that means she was already pregnant when she arrived at my compound. It means she knew or she suspected and she never told me.
She left me a note that said thank you like I gave her a meal instead of something that's been growing inside her for months.
My wolf is losing her mind.
I set the report down and I walk to the window. My office overlooks the compound. Warriors moving between buildings. Pack members going about their day. Training grounds where wolves spar and practice. Everything normal. Everything the same as it was an hour ago.
Everything is different now.
She's pregnant with my child.
The thought should scare me. I built my entire life on not needing anyone. On the principle that the only way to keep what's yours is to not want anything you can't protect yourself. The idea of a child ties me to someone permanently. The idea of a child born from a girl I met in a holding room changes the entire trajectory of my life.
But underneath the fear is something else. Something that sounds exactly like my wolf saying finally. Like she's been waiting for this moment. Like she knows something I'm only just beginning to understand.
I don't tell anyone where I'm going.
I just leave. Get in my truck and drive south toward Greywater without telling Kael or my Beta or anyone else. If I stop to explain, they'll ask questions. If I answer those questions, I'll have to admit that a girl with grey eyes has managed to crack open something inside me that I spent fourteen years sealing shut.
That I'm about to do something that will change everything.
The drive takes three hours and I spend all of it thinking about that night. About her sitting across from me in that small room. About the way she looked at me like I was something worth wanting. About the moment she stopped being afraid and started being present.
I think about her leaving before sunrise.
I think about the note that said thank you and nothing else.
I think about the fact that she was already carrying my child and she chose to leave anyway. She chose to handle this alone rather than face whatever she thought would happen if she stayed.
That breaks something in me.
I arrive in Greywater early. Before the market fills up. Before there are crowds. The sun is just coming up and the town is still mostly quiet. A few shop owners opening their doors. A few early risers getting coffee.
I drive slowly through the streets trying to remember where rogues usually set up their business. The market. There's always a market in neutral territory. That's where she'll be.
I'm right.
I see her at a vegetable stall arguing with the vendor about ginger root. Her hand is resting lightly on her stomach. Not protective exactly. Just resting there like she does it without thinking about it. Like touching that spot is as natural as breathing.
She looks different than she did in my compound.
More alive. Her face has color. Her body is moving with energy instead of exhaustion. She's smiling at the vendor and saying something that makes him laugh.
But there's something underneath the aliveness. A heaviness she's carrying alone. It shows in the way her hand protects that stomach. The way her eyes go distant for just a moment before she pulls herself back to the conversation. The way she holds herself like she's used to handling things without anyone's help.
She's been alone with this for six weeks.
She crossed into my territory and spent one night with me and left carrying something I didn't know about. Something that connects us permanently whether either of us wants it or not. Something she decided to manage by herself.
The anger comes fast but it's not directed at her. It's directed at myself for letting her leave. For accepting that note like it was enough. For not realizing that she was running from something bigger than just a rejection ceremony.
I move closer.
The market is filling up now. A few early risers browsing produce. A woman buying fish. An old man looking at fresh herbs. Nobody is paying attention to me yet. Nobody is noticing that an Ashford Alpha just walked into neutral territory in search of something.
That's about to change.
I step up to the vegetable stall like I'm just another customer. The vendor sees me and his entire body goes very still. The way his eyes widen and his hands freeze tells me he recognizes what I am. What territory I'm from. He's definitely heard the stories about Ashford.
I don't acknowledge him. I'm watching her.
She senses something. Some shift in the air that tells her to look up. Her hand stills on the ginger root. She turns and our eyes meet and the color drains from her face so completely that I think she might collapse right there in the market.
She says my name but no sound comes out. Just her lips forming the letters. Z-A-N-E.
Her free hand moves to her stomach instinctively. Protective now. Shielding something from me like I'm a threat. Like I came here to take it away from her.
I look down at where her hand is positioned. At the slight curve that shows five months of pregnancy. At the life inside her that carries both of us. At the evidence that she had the power to change my entire existence and she chose to handle it alone.
Everything I thought I knew about myself falls apart.
"Mine," I say.
The word is quiet but it carries weight. It carries years of control and discipline and the sudden realization that control doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters except that she carried my child alone and never told me. Nothing matters except that she left and she was carrying everything.
She stares at me and her entire body is shaking. Not from cold. From fear or shock or something that looks like recognition. Like she knew this moment was coming and she hoped it wouldn't.
The vendor is backing away slowly. Other people in the market are noticing now. A man who looks like he walked straight out of war territory is standing at a vegetable stall saying one word to a pregnant girl like it's an announcement.
Like it's a claim.
I don't care about the market or the vendor or anyone watching. I don't care who sees this. I don't care what it means for either of our packs.
All I can see is her hand on her stomach and all I can think is that she left me with a thank you note and she was carrying everything that matters.
Everything I didn't know I needed.
Everything I'm not going to let go of now that I know it exists.