WYATT'S POV
His hands were shaking.
Wyatt stood in the bathroom doorway watching Lena emerge from being violently sick. She was pale. Trembling. Avoiding his eyes. He'd just realized she was carrying his child and now he was watching her fall apart in front of him.
This was wrong. All of it was wrong.
He grabbed her hand before she could pull away. "Come back to the bedroom. We need to talk."
Lena tried to resist but he was already moving, already pulling her with him, already radiating the kind of command that made people obey. She followed because she had no choice. Because his grip on her wrist was firm but not cruel. Because something in her recognized that he needed her to cooperate.
Once they were back in the bedroom with the door closed, Wyatt turned to face her. The young girl was still sleeping peacefully on the bed. His orders had been followed. Everyone else was gone. It was just them now.
His wolf was clawing at him from the inside. Violent. Desperate. Demanding that he claim her. Mark her. Make sure the entire world knew she belonged to him.
Wyatt forced his beast down.
"I remember you," he said. His voice was harsh. Raw. He was barely holding himself together. "Not all of it. But pieces. Your hands on my chest. Your laugh when the sun was coming up. The way you looked at me like I mattered. The way everything felt right for the first time in my life."
Lena turned away from him. She wrapped her arms around herself like she was trying to physically hold her body together.
"It was one night," she said coldly. Her voice was professional. Clinical. Like she was reporting facts to a patient. "A long time ago. It doesn't matter."
Her words hit him like a punch. Wyatt felt something crack open in his chest. He moved in front of her so she had to look at him or actively avoid his gaze.
"Don't lie to me," he said. "Look at me and tell me it doesn't matter."
Lena lifted her eyes to his. And there it was. The truth she was trying to hide. Her eyes were full of unshed tears. They were bright with emotion she was trying to bury. They betrayed every word she'd just said.
"You feel it," Wyatt said. It wasn't a question. He could see it all over her face. "The bond. You feel it too."
"It's gone," Lena whispered. "Whatever you felt that night, it's gone now."
"That's impossible." Wyatt stepped closer. His voice dropped. "A mate bond doesn't just disappear. It doesn't die. It can't. I felt it the moment I saw you in that emergency room. I feel it right now standing in front of you."
Lena's whole body started shaking. Not from cold. From emotion. From the weight of whatever she'd been carrying alone.
"You have Victoria," Lena said. "You have your family. You have a pack. You have a life that doesn't include me."
"I don't care about any of that," Wyatt said. He reached out and cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs traced her cheekbones gently. "I care about this. About you. About why my entire soul is screaming that you're mine and I've been losing my mind for three months not understanding why."
Lena closed her eyes. A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek.
"Tell me about that night," Wyatt demanded softly. "Tell me what happened after I left. Tell me what you've been carrying alone."
Lena's body lurched.
She gasped and pulled away from him, her hand flying to her mouth. The nausea was hitting her violently. Her entire frame went rigid.
Wyatt understood immediately. He didn't ask questions. He just moved.
He caught her as she stumbled toward the bathroom. His arm wrapped around her waist, supporting her weight. She was so light. Too light. Like she'd been living on nothing, surviving on willpower alone.
He got her to the toilet just in time.
Wyatt held her hair back with one hand while his other rubbed circles on her back. He murmured things to her. Soft things. Calming things. His presence was steady even though his insides were breaking.
She'd been sick like this for months. Probably alone. Definitely without help. She'd been carrying his child while he was sleeping next to another woman. While he was building a future with someone he didn't want. While he was living a lie his family had constructed.
And she'd done it alone.
Lena's body shook as the nausea passed. She was crying now. Actually crying. The tears came silently but they came relentlessly. Wyatt pulled her back gently and cradled her against his chest. His shirt would be ruined. He didn't care.
"How long?" he asked.
Lena's voice was barely audible. "Two months."
Two months. They'd met three months ago. She'd known almost immediately. She'd been alone with this knowledge for weeks while he was living in ignorance.
Wyatt pressed his face into her hair and let himself feel the weight of what had happened. What his family had stolen from him. What his father and Victoria had conspired to keep him from knowing.
"I'm sorry," he said. The words felt insufficient but they were all he had. "I'm so sorry."
Lena looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "You didn't know."
"That's not an excuse for leaving you at that lake house. That's not an excuse for any of this."
He pulled her closer and made himself a promise. Whatever it took. Whatever the cost. He was going to fix this. He was going to claim her and their child. He was going to burn down the lies his entire life was built on.
But first he had to get through the next moment. He had to hold her while she cried. He had to convince her that this was real. That he was real. That his recognition of her meant something more than just the mate bond.
Wyatt held Lena in the bathroom of a pack house while the woman he was supposed to marry waited for him elsewhere and his father controlled his every decision from a distance.
And for the first time in three months, his wolf went completely still.
Not satisfied. But patient. Like it understood that a war was about to begin and they needed to be ready.