RAVEN’S POV

Three days as a servant and I’ve learned something important.

Invisible doesn’t mean deaf.

I’m in the main hall again, polishing the banister when I hear it.

Commotion from the dining room. Excited voices all over. The kind of energy that ripples through when something big has just happened.

I keep polishing. Head down. But ears open.

“Did you hear?”

“The Alpha’s mate -“

“Finally, some good news -“

My wolf goes still.

I abandon the banister and move toward the dining room. Slowly. Like I’m supposed to actually be there.

The doors are open, so I can see inside.

The entire ranked pack is gathered. Elders at the head table. Warriors along the sides. Damien in his chair, looking hollowed out as usual.

And Amara.

Standing beside him. One hand pressed delicately to her stomach.

No…

“I wanted to tell you all together,” Amara says. Voice soft. “Because you’re my family now. Our family.”

She glances to Damien. He’s staring at her like he can’t quite process what’s happening.

“I’m pregnant.”

The room explodes.

There’s a lot of cheering, howling, wolves on their feet congratulating them both.

Then there’s me. Frozen in the doorway.

Pregnant.

Amara is pregnant with Damien’s child.

My wolf snarls furiously.

I force myself to breathe. Trying to think.

Timeline. Focus on the timeline.

“How far along?” One of the elders asks. Beaming.

“Six weeks,” Amara says. Touching her stomach preciously. “The healer confirmed it this morning.”

Six freaking weeks.

I was alive six weeks ago.

I was planning my mating ceremony six weeks ago.

The math clicks into place with sickening clarity.

Damien and I didn’t do it. We waited. Tradition. Mating ceremony first, then everything else.

Which means six weeks ago, Amara and Damien were -

My stomach turns.

But Damien looks confused. I can see it in his face. He’s trying to remember. Trying to figure out what could have happened.

“Damien?” Amara’s voice is soft. Concerned. “Are you alright?”

He blinks twice. Forces a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yes. Of course. This is…good news.”

Good news really.

His Mateus barely cold in the ground and there’s another woman carrying his child.

The pack doesn’t even seem to notice the wrongness of it. They’re too busy celebrating the new heir.

Something to hope for after so much grief.

I watch Amara accept congratulations with practiced grace. Very modest. Graceful. And glowing.

She’s good at this.

She glances towards the doorway. Sees me standing there.

Our eyes meet.

For just a second her mask slips. I see satisfaction in there.

Then it’s gone. Replaced by that gentle smile.

She whispers something to one of the handmaidens. Nerissa nods and head toward me.

I turn away quickly. Back to my banister.

But Nerissa catches up.

“The Luna wants tea.” She says. Not asking. Ordering. “Bring it to her chambers. Use the good set.”

The good set.

Mother’s teacup.

“Of course,” I say quietly.

I head to the kitchen. My hands are shaking.

Six weeks means this baby was conceived while I was alive. While Damien and I were engaged.

Either Amara is lying about the timeline, or -

Or Damien was with her before I died.

I don’t know which possibility makes me sicker.

The kitchen staff is already preparing a tray. Tea. Little cakes. All perfect.

“Use these.” Sarah hands me mother’s teacup set.

I take them carefully.

I arrange everything on the tray, my hands much steadier now.

I carry it through the halls toward Amara’s chambers.

She has rooms on the second floor now. Closer to the Alpha’s quarters.

Already making herself at home.

I knock.

“Come in.”

I enter. The room is beautiful. Decorated in soft colors. Amara’s scent everywhere.

She’s standing by the window. One hand to her stomach. Perfect image of a future mother.

“Put it on the table,” she says without looking.

I set the tray down and start pouring the tea.

“That’s mother’s set,” Amara says.

I freeze.

“Mia’s mother’s set,” she continues, coming closer. “She loved these cups. Used them for special occasions.”

She picks one. Turns it in her hands carelessly.

Too carelessly.

“It’s strange,” Amara says. “How things that belonged to the dead get passed to the living. Like they don’t matter anymore.”

I keep my face blank. Submissive.

“Alpha doesn’t even notice I use them now.” She sets the cup down with a careless clink. “Doesn’t notice much these days. Grief, you know.”

She’s taunting me.

She knows I can’t respond. Can’t react.

I’m just a servant.

“You’re the rogue, aren’t you?” Amara asks. “Raven.”

“Yes, Luna.”

“Don’t call me that yet.” But she’s smiling. “Soon though. Once the baby comes. Once everything is…official.”

She moves past me to pick up her tea.

Her shoulder brushes mine. Deliberately.

“You’re clumsy,” she says lightly. Conversationally. “I’ve heard the other servants talking about you. Always dropping things. Breaking dishes.”

I wasn’t. Of course. But I don’t correct her.

“We wouldn’t want any more…accidents.” She takes a sip. Her eyes on mine over the rim. “Would we?”

“No, Luna,” I say quietly.

“Good.” She sets the cup down. “You can go.”

I turn to leave.

“Oh, and Raven?”

I pause at the door.

“Welcome to Silver Eclipse.” Amara says sweetly. “I hope you find everything you’re looking for here.”

I close the door behind me. Hands trembling again.

My wolf is snarling. Wanting blood.

Not yet, I tell her. Not yet.

But soon.

I'm halfway down the hall when I suddenly hear footsteps behind me.

"Raven."

Adrian again.

He's watching me with that unreadable expression.

"Are you alright?"

The question catches me off guard.

"Yes, Beta."

He doesn't look convinced. His eyes drop to my hands. The cuts reopened slightly from carrying the tray.

"You're wound. It’s reopening."

"It's fine."

"It's not." He steps closer. "What did she say to you?"

How does he know Amara said something?

"Nothing, Beta. Just servant things."

Adrian's jaw tightens. He doesn't believe me.

But he can't push. Not without drawing attention to why he cares.

"Stay away from her," he says quietly. "As much as you can."

I nod.

He studies me for another long moment. Then he's gone.

I lean against the wall. Breathing.

Everything’s playing in my head.

Amara’s six weeks pregnancy.

The way she carelessly manhandled mother’s teacups.

And even stranger - Adrian telling me to stay away from Amara like he knows something's wrong.

Everything is just wrong at this point.