Chapter 0112

Sebastian pinned Julian down.

He sat on Julian's chest, knees digging hard into his shoulders.

"Do you give up?"

Julian bared his teeth.

"Never."

Sebastian pressed his knees deeper.

Julian winced but kept struggling.

I had to admit, he never backed down from a fight.

"I'm sorry Julian. You lost." I called out.

He thumped the ground with his fist and finally relaxed.

"Fine."

"Happy?" I whispered to Athena.

She nodded.

"I need to talk to you."

Her hand linked with mine.

She pulled me toward the house and into my office.

She released my hand and sat in her usual spot.

This time, she didn't curl her legs to her chest.

"Is everything okay?"

"There's a flaw in your plan." She didn't hesitate. "You and Isabella both said my scent would change. That you'd be able to tell I'm pregnant."

"I did say that."

"What about the guests? They'll know I'm not."

"We still have a couple of days."

"And if I'm still not?"

"Then we tell them your Lycan half is masking it." I leaned against my desk, watching her. "Who would have thought you'd be worried about not carrying my heir?"

Exactly two days later, I noticed the subtle shift in her lavender scent.

Athena was curled up asleep, hugging a pillow while I showered.

The moment I turned off the water, I detected the change.

I walked over to her, tempted to wake her and share the news.

Instead, I slid my hand between her and the pillow.

I rested it on her flat stomach, savoring being the first to know.

'Well, it finally happened.' Titan mused. 'Years we've waited for this.'

I agreed, but sighed internally. 'It was a pregnancy of convenience.'

'Doesn't matter. It's still our pup. Athena will be a great mother. Her past trauma will ensure that.'

'I hope you're right.'

I pulled the blanket up around her and quickly dressed.

Isabella would be the first I told. She was both pack doctor and my baby sister.

"You have to tell him." I heard Isabella say as I pushed the door open.

"He's your brother!" Theodore's words came out in a rushed whisper.

"And he's our Alpha. It doesn't matter who tells him. He needs to know."

"I need to know what?"

They both jumped, which infuriated me. They wouldn't have noticed if one of Dominic's men had crept up.

"Well?"

"You need to see for yourself." Isabella muttered, scurrying around the station.

She grabbed my hand and led me to the room at the far end. "I don't know how to help her."

"Her?"

She pushed open the heavy door.

The smell of iron hit me.

Blood was splattered across the walls, the floor, the door, the cupboards.

In the corner, a naked Sophia sat rocking.

Deep wounds covered her arms, face, and body.

They were healing slowly, likely because her body was exhausted.

"Sebastian left her with me last night." Theodore muttered. "She cut her finger opening a tin. She watched it heal and just lost it."

"She keeps shifting, ripping into herself with her claws." Isabella whispered. "As soon as she heals, she does it again. I can't get near enough to sedate her. Putting her in here was all I could do."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Isabella's eyes shifted to Theodore. "Well, uh, you've been a little preoccupied."

She meant me trying to get Athena pregnant.

"You should have told me! Both of you! Get me a blanket!"

Isabella ran into the hallway and returned with several blankets.

"What are you going to do?"

"Leave me."

"But Alexander....."

"Leave me."

The door closed behind me.

I moved quietly toward Sophia.

Crouching down, I wrapped the blanket around her.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe."

She continued rocking, seemingly unaware of me.

I grabbed a cloth and began cleaning the blood from her face.

She stilled.

Her hands clutched the blanket tightly.

"I'm a monster." she whispered.

"No." I stated it simply and clearly. "You're a kid thrown into the unknown. Why didn't you leave with the others?"

"I don't want to run."

"But you want to hurt yourself?"

I felt immense gratitude that Athena hadn't taken this path.

Something told me she would have done far more than claw at her skin.

She had a habit of aiming for the heart.

"Death would be better."

"Yours? Or the people who did this to you?"