I lasted exactly forty-three minutes before hunger won.
Morning sickness had turned into all-day starvation, and the fridge in my room was mocking me with its perfect little rows of pickles, strawberry ice cream, and those spicy chips I'd stress-bought at a gas station last week.
I hated that he knew me this well already.
I changed three times.
First: the silk pajamas that came with the room (too sexy).
Second: my old college hoodie (too defensive).
Third: a soft oversized cream sweater and leggings (safe, cozy, and still cute, damn it).
I left my hair down. Bare feet. No makeup.
If he wanted a fight, he wasn't getting one tonight.
When I padded into the dining area, the lights were low, candles flickering, and the entire glass wall showed the city glittering like spilled diamonds.
Noctis stood at the head of the table, sleeves rolled up, tie gone, top buttons undone. He was plating something himself. Actually cooking.
The smell hit me like a freight train: garlic butter shrimp pasta with lemon and fresh parsley.
My stomach growled so loudly the sound echoed.
He glanced over his shoulder, lips twitching. "Sit before you faint, little fox."
I sat.
He set a bowl in front of me (perfectly twirled pasta, shrimp the size of my thumb, extra parmesan grated on top) and then, because apparently he was trying to kill me, a tall glass of iced peppermint tea with a sprig of fresh mint.
I stared at it. Then at him.
"How did you—"
"I had the chef fired," he said casually, sliding into the chair beside me (not across, beside). "He didn't know how to make peppermint tea strong enough for a pregnant woman who wants to bathe in it. I do."
I took a bite to hide the stupid warmth spreading through my chest.
Heaven. Absolute heaven.
He watched me eat like it was his new favorite hobby.
Three bites in, I couldn't take the silence anymore.
"So," I said around a mouthful of shrimp, "Alpha King. That's a real thing? Like… actual wolves? Full moons? Howling?"
He leaned back, swirling a glass of something red (wine? blood? I wasn't asking). "Yes. All of it. I shift. I lead the largest pack on the continent. And yes, I howl when I'm very angry or very… satisfied."
Heat flooded my face at the memory.
I focused on my pasta.
He kept talking, voice low and steady, like he'd been waiting weeks to tell me this.
"I've lived over three hundred years. I've ruled for two hundred of them. My kind age slowly. We mate for life. And when we find the one person our wolf recognizes…" His eyes dropped to my stomach. "We don't let go. Ever."
I set my fork down. "I'm human."
"You're carrying my pup," he said softly. "That makes you more than human now."
The candlelight danced across his face, softening the sharp edges. For the first time, he looked almost… vulnerable.
"I'm cursed, Tanya." The words came out rough. "A blood curse. Every full moon it tries to rip me apart from the inside. The only thing that's ever quieted it—even for a second—was you. That night. Your scent. Your skin under my mouth."
I swallowed hard.
He reached across the table, slow enough that I could pull away.
I didn't.
His fingers brushed my cheek. "I'm trying to be good," he whispered. "Trying not to lock you in that bedroom and never let you out. But I need you close. Need to hear that heartbeat every night. Need to know you're both safe."
My own heart was hammering so loud I was sure he could hear it.
I turned my face into his palm without thinking.
His eyes flared bright gold.
Then his phone buzzed on the table. Hard. Urgent tone.
He glanced at the screen and every soft line in his face turned to stone.
"Stay here," he growled, already standing.
"What is it?"
"Pack business." He buttoned his sleeves with sharp, angry movements. "Someone just crossed the border without permission."
He started for the elevator, then stopped.
Turned back.
Stalked over to me so fast I barely blinked.
One hand cupped my face, the other slid to the back of my neck, and then he kissed me.
Not soft. Not gentle.
A claiming.
Teeth and tongue and pure possession, like he was trying to brand his name on my soul in ten seconds flat.
When he pulled back, we were both breathing hard.
"Lock the bedroom door," he ordered against my lips. "Do not open it for anyone but me."
Then he was gone.
The elevator doors closed.
I touched my mouth, still tasting him.
Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled, long and furious.
And for the first time since those two pink lines appeared, I wasn't sure if I wanted to run away… or run straight into the storm after him.