Two weeks have come and gone since my liberation from the wing, and life has taken a surprisingly positive turn. I've forged strong friendships with my guards and Marcus, who has been a delightful companion. Spending time with Kiara, too, has brought me immense joy.

My interactions with other nobles, however, have been less than straightforward. It's as if they either regard me with a mix of awe and trepidation due to my status as the Alpha King's mate or hold a disdain for me simply because I am a human amidst the grandeur of this castle.

The noblemen who harbor animosity towards my presence tend to keep their distance, a situation I find agreeable. If they harbor ill feelings towards me, I prefer not to engage with them. I was not the one who chose to be here; I was brought here against my will. However, the noblewomen paint a different picture. They engage in whispering campaigns and exhibit a clear displeasure with my presence.

Despite Rylan's inquiries, I have shared very little of this with him. It seems futile, and I'd rather avoid unnecessary conflict. My relationship with Rylan has been remarkably harmonious. He treats me with a level of reverence that makes me feel like a queen, and I find solace in his warm embrace. I am content with the current state of our relationship.

However, as I become more integrated into castle life, I've had the opportunity to learn more about Rylan's intimidating reputation. His kind and gentle side is the face he shows to me, but I sometimes forget about the formidable force he truly is. I hope that my presence is having a positive influence on him, and the people around me attest to that, but I remain unsure.

Rylan speaks about our future as if we're already a married couple, discussing plans for our family. It feels somewhat rushed, but I let it slide. One morning, after an impassioned night together, he couldn't resist placing his hand on my stomach, reminding me of the potential pregnancy aspect of our relationship. It was a reality I had momentarily forgotten.

The day finds me strolling leisurely through the gardens with Kiara, enjoying the sunshine and the pleasant company. Bran and Jaxon, my diligent guards for the moment, are keeping a respectful distance, giving us the much-needed privacy for what Jaxon cheekily labeled as "girl talk," much to our amusement. Kiara has become "Ki" to me, a term of endearment that wouldn't pass muster in Rylan's presence. He harbors a palpable distaste for Kiara's occasional habit of addressing me by my name, instead of the formal titles "Luna" or "Your Majesty," which strikes me as rather absurd.

In the midst of our casual conversation, I notice a distinct gleam in Kiara's eyes, signaling that she has something she's itching to share. "What's going on?" I inquire, unable to contain my curiosity. With a barely contained smile, she discloses, "I have some news, but it's strictly confidential for now. Caelum is the only other person who knows." "I won't breathe a word," I promise, my interest piqued to an even higher degree now that it's shrouded in secrecy. She pauses, building up the suspense before revealing, "I'm pregnant."

The news hits me like a bolt of pure elation, prompting me to let out a euphoric squeal and immediately envelop her in a heartfelt hug. In an instant, Bran and Jaxon are on high alert, brandishing their swords and rushing towards me, their protective instincts in overdrive. "What's the danger? Where is it?" they demand, scanning the area and then turning their attention to me. Thinking on my feet, I quickly fabricate a story, "Oh, nothing's wrong. I, uh, just spotted a spider on Ki and got a bit startled." The tension visibly drains from their features as they let out relieved sighs and return their weapons to their sheaths. "Women," Jaxon mutters under his breath as they retreat to a more comfortable distance. Ki and I dissolve into laughter at the situation, and I offer her a cascade of heartfelt congratulations.

In that moment, I'm genuinely elated for my dear friend, caught up in the excitement of her forthcoming joy. My time spent in the werewolf community has enlightened me to the significance of childbirth in their society. It's a rare occurrence, especially outside the realm of fated mates, making Kiara's news all the more extraordinary, particularly considering she and Caelum have a daughter not even a year old. Such a close succession of pregnancies is a blessed rarity among their kind. Our conversation soon drifts to baby names, speculations about the baby's gender, and a whirlwind of enthusiastic chatter about all things baby-related.

However, our buoyant mood takes an abrupt turn as we cross paths with a group of noblewomen. Among them is Thalia, an influential she-wolf and the leader of the group. Thalia's disdain for me is unmistakable. I've learned over time that she harbors ambitions of becoming Rylan's chosen mate and future queen, coupled with a vehement distaste for humans, a sentiment she never fails to vocalize.

As we draw nearer, the other noblewomen dutifully lower their heads in a sign of deference. It seems they understand the consequences of disrespect far better than Thalia does. "Well, well, if it isn't our newly anointed human Luna," she remarks, her tone dripping with condescension. Standing up to her would be the appropriate response, yet in truth, I find myself strangely unmoved by her contempt, having little respect for her myself. "Thalia, it's a pleasure to see you as well," I retort, pointedly omitting her title, a subtle gesture that doesn't escape her notice. Her expression darkens slightly, clearly irked by my decision not to accord her the same honor. "I wanted to offer my condolences after the recent human village raid. I hope no one close to you was hurt," she says, delivering a revelation that leaves me reeling. Why is this news only reaching me now? What has been happening in my world while I've been preoccupied with Rylan's affairs? I realize I urgently need to speak to Rylan. My focus on his realm has momentarily eclipsed my own.

As Kiara sternly intervenes, her words laced with an unmistakable threat, I'm relieved by her protective presence. "Enough, Thalia," Ki says, "I am sure the alpha would not appreciate you discussing such matters." Her quick thinking and unwavering support calm my racing heart. Kiara knows just how to handle such situations, aware of the potential consequences of Thalia's audacity. She guides me away from the unpleasant encounter, urging me to leave the matter be, but it's challenging not to feel perturbed by Thalia's cryptic comment about the recent human village raid.

Yet, my immediate concerns are overshadowed as I find myself unexpectedly tripped in a rose bush by Thalia. I emit a small yelp as the thorns pierce my skin, the sharp pain shooting through me. Kiara rushes to my side, and Bran and Jaxon, my vigilant guards, are quick to assess the extent of my injuries. Thalia's malicious smirk only fuels my sense of vulnerability.

The other noblewomen, although clearly shocked by Thalia's audacious actions, offer little more than hesitant glances. She condescendingly remarks, "Oh, my, Luna, you really should watch where you're going. Humans can be so clumsy and fragile," before making her departure. Her entourage reluctantly follows her lead, leaving behind a backdrop of tension.

While Bran tends to my wounds, which include both pricks and scrapes that have drawn blood, Jaxon takes a deliberate step towards Thalia, his hand on his sword hilt. I'm determined to de-escalate the situation, knowing that any further confrontation could be detrimental. "No, Jaxon," I implore, my voice quivering with concern. "She's right. I simply tripped. Everything is fine."

Kiara, ever composed, takes charge of the situation, instructing Bran to carry me back to my wing while she fetches a doctor to tend to my minor injuries. My guards exchange an apprehensive look, but they comply, gently lifting me from the ground. Thalia's callous actions have left a bitter taste in my mouth, but I understand that maintaining a calm and composed demeanor is the best course of action for now.

I hear a lot of shocked gasps from the onlookers as my guards rush me back to the wing. My injuries are minor, consisting of scrapes and scratches that have drawn a bit of blood. The situation might appear worse than it is due to the blood, but it's not as serious as it may seem. Thalia certainly picked the thorniest rosebush for her little stunt.

Amid the commotion, I hear Jaxon muttering under his breath, voicing his anxieties with phrases like "We are all dead now" and "We had one job and couldn't even protect her from a noblewoman." I try to reassure him, "Jaxon, I am fine, really," attempting to calm his nerves in this tense situation.

Bran, as stoic as ever, wears an almost fearful expression. I can see that they are all troubled by the potential consequences of what happened. I hope that Rylan will understand that it wasn't their fault.

Shortly after we enter the wing, I am gently set down on a couch and the immediate danger seems to have passed.

Rylan's voice roars through the room, echoing with anger, as he enters the wing and demands to know what happened. It's clear that word of the incident has already reached him, and he's furious. In his fury, he seizes Jaxon by the throat, accusing him, "Are you fucking useless?!"

Terrified for my guards, I can't bear to see them punished for something that wasn't their fault. "Rylan, please, it's not their fault," I implore, hoping to spare them from his wrath. His grip on Jaxon doesn't loosen, so I attempt a different approach, knowing how possessive he can be. "Please, Rylan, I need you."

My plea finally reaches him, and he releases Jaxon. Rylan rushes to my side, his demeanor shifting from anger to deep concern. He carefully checks on me, his words full of worry. "Sweetheart, are you alright? Where does it hurt? What happened?"

Unable to recall the details of the incident, my memory is a blank slate, but Bran steps in to provide an account of the events. He reports with a matter-of-fact tone, as though delivering a mission report. "She was in the gardens with Lady Kiara. They were approached by a group of noblewomen, led by Lady Thalia. Her Majesty fell into a rose bush. She says she tripped."

However, it's clear that Rylan senses there's more to the story. He presses Bran, asking, "But?" I can only communicate with my eyes, silently urging Bran not to reveal the suspicions surrounding Thalia's involvement. Unfortunately, my efforts are in vain, as Bran continues, "It appeared to me that Lady Thalia had something to do with her falling."