Darius POV
I was going insane.
Three days. Three days since Cassian had confined Elara to her chambers, and I hadn't seen her face or heard her voice. Three days of pacing my rooms like a caged wolf while my mate suffered alone.
Marcus thought I'd lost my mind. Maybe I had.
"You can't keep doing this," he said, watching me wear a path in the carpet. "The guards are starting to talk. They've noticed you walking past the queen's corridor."
"Let them talk."
"Darius." He grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. "Cassian is looking for an excuse to execute you. Don't give him one."
I shook him off. "She's trapped in there. Alone. Scared."
"She's alive. That's more than you'll be if you get caught sneaking into her chambers."
But he didn't understand. The mate bond was eating me alive. Every instinct I had screamed at me to go to her, protect her, claim her. The distance was physical torture.
And there was something else. Something I couldn't explain but felt in my bones.
Elara was hiding something. Something important.
That night, I made my decision.
The palace slept around me as I crept through the servants' passages. I'd grown up here—knew every secret door, every hidden corridor. It was child's play to reach the royal wing unseen.
Elara's chambers were guarded, but I'd expected that. What I hadn't expected was how heavily. Four guards instead of the usual two. Whatever Cassian suspected, he was taking no chances.
I found another way.
The balcony outside her window was a sheer drop from the courtyard, but there was a drain pipe that ran close enough. Risky, but not impossible for someone desperate enough.
My hands were cut and bleeding by the time I hauled myself over the stone railing. Through the window, I could see candlelight flickering inside her chambers.
The window was locked, but the catch was old and loose. A few moments of careful work with my dagger, and it swung open silently.
I slipped inside like a shadow.
Elara sat at her dressing table in her nightgown, brushing her silver hair. She looked pale and thin, dark circles under her beautiful eyes. When she saw my reflection in her mirror, the brush clattered to the floor.
"Darius." My name was barely a whisper.
I crossed the room in two strides, catching her as she turned toward me. She felt fragile in my arms, like she might break.
"Are you hurt?" I cupped her face, searching for injuries. "Has he touched you?"
"No. No, he hasn't..." She closed her eyes, leaning into my touch. "You shouldn't be here. If they catch you—"
"I don't care." I pulled her closer, breathing in her scent. Jasmine and moonlight and something else. Something different. "I needed to see you."
She was trembling against me, and I felt her wolf stir restlessly. The mate bond flared between us, desperate and hungry after days of separation.
"I've been so scared," she whispered against my chest.
"Of what? Tell me."
She pulled back to meet my eyes, and I saw something that made my blood freeze. Terror. Deep, bone-deep terror that had nothing to do with guards or locked doors.
"Darius," she said softly. "I'm pregnant."
The words hit me like a physical blow. Pregnant. With my child.
Joy and terror warred in my chest. Joy that she carried our baby. Terror of what Cassian would do when he found out.
"How long?" My voice came out rough.
"A few weeks. Since... since our night in the grove."
I pressed my forehead against hers, overwhelmed. "Are you certain?"
"The physician examined me today. He suspects, but he's keeping quiet for now." Her hands fisted in my shirt. "Darius, Cassian will kill our baby. Mireille told me—he's done it before. Forced her to drink teas that ended her pregnancies."
Rage filled my vision. "He what?"
"Twice. He murdered his own children to prevent bastard heirs." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "He'll do the same to ours, or worse. He said he'd claim the baby as his own."
I wanted to roar. To shift and tear Cassian apart with my bare hands. Instead, I held Elara tighter, my mind racing.
"We have to get you out of here."
"How? I'm watched every moment. There are guards—"
"I don't care how many guards there are." I tilted her chin up, meeting her eyes. "I won't let him hurt you or our child."
"There's nowhere to go. My people sold me to secure peace. Your brother is king. Where could we possibly hide?"
She was right, and we both knew it. But I couldn't accept that. Wouldn't accept that our only choices were Cassian's mercy or death.
"The northern territories," I said suddenly. "Beyond the kingdom's borders. We could disappear into the wilderness."
"And live how? Hunt for our food? Raise a child in the wild?"
"If that's what it takes."
She stared at me for a long moment, then pressed her hand to her stomach. "You'd give up everything? Your title, your inheritance, your life here?"
"I'd give up anything for you." I covered her hand with mine, feeling the slight swell that would soon betray our secret. "Both of you."
Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. "I love you."
"I love you too." I kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. "More than my own life."
She melted against me, and suddenly we were kissing desperately. All the fear and longing of the past few days poured into that kiss. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer.
"I've missed you so much," she gasped against my mouth.
"Every day was torture." My lips found her throat, tasting the pulse that drove me wild. "Not knowing if you were safe, if you needed me..."
She arched against me, her nightgown sliding off one shoulder. The mate bond roared to life between us, drowning out rational thought.
I lifted her easily, carrying her to the bed. She didn't protest, just pulled me down with her.
"We shouldn't," she whispered even as her hands worked at the buttons of my shirt.
"Probably not." I kissed the hollow of her throat, making her gasp. "But I need you. Need to feel that you're real, that you're mine."
"I am yours." Her fingers traced the scar Cassian's sword had left on my ribs. "Always yours."
We moved together slowly, carefully. She was precious now—carrying our child, fragile and perfect and mine. Every kiss was a promise, every touch a vow.
When she came apart in my arms, she bit my shoulder to muffle her cry. The slight pain only made me love her more.
Afterwards, we lay entwined in the candlelight, her head on my chest. My hand rested on her stomach, protective and possessive.
"When will you start to show?" I asked quietly.
"Soon. Another few weeks, maybe less." She traced patterns on my chest with her fingertip. "We don't have much time."
Heavy footsteps in the corridor outside made us both freeze. Multiple guards, moving with purpose.
"Shift change," Elara breathed, but we both heard the lie.
The footsteps stopped directly outside her door.
I rolled off the bed silently, reaching for my scattered clothes. If they searched the room, I was dead. And so was she.
"Your Majesty?" A voice called through the door. "We need to speak with you."
Elara's face went white. She gestured frantically toward the balcony while pulling on her robe.
"One moment," she called back, her voice admirably steady.
I was halfway dressed when the door handle turned.
"Your Majesty," the guard said again. "The king requires—"
The door opened just as I slipped behind the heavy curtains covering the balcony entrance. Through a gap in the fabric, I watched a guard enter with Helena trailing behind him.
"Is everything all right?" the guard asked, his eyes scanning the room suspiciously. "We heard voices."
Elara stood by her dressing table, perfectly composed. "I was praying. Sometimes I speak the words aloud."
He nodded slowly, but his gaze lingered on the rumpled bed. On the two wine cups sitting on the side table.
My blood turned to ice. We'd been careless.
"Strange," Helena said, moving closer to examine the cups. "I only brought you one cup with your evening meal."
The guard's hand moved to his sword. "Your Majesty, I'm going to need to search your chambers."