The lobby of Lysander Corporation had never been this quiet.
Five hundred employees, security guards, reporters who'd somehow sniffed blood in the water; everyone formed a perfect circle around the two women in the center.
Me, five-foot-six in four-inch heels, five months pregnant, dressed in black like I was attending a funeral.
And Selene Vex.
Six feet of pure venom in a white designer dress that screamed money and malice. Platinum hair cascaded in perfect waves. Emerald eyes glittered with triumph.
In her manicured hand she held a stack of papers and a single ultrasound photo.
Microphones and phone cameras were already rolling.
Noctis stood at my side, radiating murder in a three-piece suit. His hand rested on my lower back, claws half-extended, ready to rip throats.
Selene smiled like a shark.
"Noctis, darling," she purred, loud enough for every recording device to catch. "I came to return something that belongs to you."
She waved the ultrasound photo.
My ultrasound photo. The one from my private appointment last week.
The one that had mysteriously vanished from my purse two days ago.
"I think there's been a terrible misunderstanding," she continued, voice dripping honey. "This child isn't yours. The real father asked me to deliver proof."
She held up the papers next. "DNA results. Signed by the clinic. The baby belongs to Ethan Caldwell. Your little secretary has been lying to everyone."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
My ex's name in her mouth made my vision go red.
Noctis went so still I felt the air freeze around him.
Selene stepped closer, eyes locked on me.
"Poor human," she cooed. "Did you really think you could trap a king with a bastard?"
The slap echoed like a gunshot.
I didn't even realize I'd moved until her head snapped to the side and blood bloomed on her lip.
Five hundred people inhaled at once.
Security started forward. Noctis lifted one hand. They froze.
Selene touched her mouth, stared at the blood, then laughed.
"Assault," she hissed. "I'll have you arrested—"
I snatched the DNA papers from her hand and tore them in half. Then again. And again. Until nothing but confetti rained on the marble floor.
"Those are fake," I said calmly. "And I can prove it."
I pulled my real ultrasound from my clutch (the one I'd kept in my bra since the theft) and held it up.
"See the date? See the clinic stamp? See the little arrow that says 'Royal Lycan Heir – Paternity Confirmed' in gold ink?" I smiled. "The king had me tested the day I signed the contract. Your forgery is cute, though. Did you pay someone in crayons?"
Selene's face twisted.
I stepped forward until we were nose to nose.
"Let me make this very clear, Selene. This baby is Noctis Valerius Lysander's. One hundred percent. And if you ever try to touch my child, my medical records, or my trash again, I will end you. Slowly. With a smile. And he," I jerked my thumb at Noctis, "will hand me the knife."
The lobby was dead silent.
Then Noctis spoke, voice so low it vibrated in bones.
"Selene Vex," he said formally, "you are hereby banished from all Lysander territories. Effective now. You have one hour to leave the city before I declare you rogue and let every pack in the country hunt you for sport."
Selene went white.
"You can't—"
"I am the king," he snarled, eyes fully gold. "I can."
Two guards appeared out of nowhere, grabbed her arms.
She screamed as they dragged her toward the doors.
"This isn't over!" she shrieked. "The child will die just like the last one! The curse—"
Noctis moved so fast he blurred. One second he was beside me, the next his hand was around her throat, lifting her clean off the ground.
"Finish that sentence," he whispered, "and I'll rip your tongue out and feed it to you."
Selene whimpered.
He dropped her like garbage.
Security hauled her out. The doors slammed.
The lobby erupted into chaos: cheers, camera flashes, people crying.
Noctis turned to me, cupped my face with shaking hands.
"Are you okay?" he breathed.
I was shaking too, adrenaline and hormones and pure rage.
But I smiled.
"I just slapped a werewolf in front of the entire city," I said. "I've never felt more alive."
He laughed, wild and free, then kissed me hard in front of every camera in the country.
The headline wrote itself before we even reached the elevator:
**PREGNANT HUMAN LUNA SLAPS EX-FIANCÉE, KING DECLARES WAR: LOVE OR MASSACRE?**
I didn't care.
I was done being afraid.