Lucien’s POV

    I had thought my soul had already rotted, buried alongside Riley beneath the earth. For days–weeks, perhaps I had be little more than a hollow shell. My wolf prowled in the darkness of my chest, restless, but even he could not rouse me from the fog of grief.

    The embroidery she had once touchedy in my hands, soft silk threads beneath my calloused fingers. I clung to it like a dying man to air, because it was all I had left of her. Nothing else mattered. Not Stormridge, not the throne, not even my own survival.

    When the door opened, I barely lifted my gaze. It was Caelum. His footsteps were urgent, his scent sharp with adrenaline and dread. He clutched a thick file in his hands, his expression grim.

    “Alpha Lucien,” he said, voice low, but edged with something fierce. “I’ve uncovered something… something you must hear.”

    I gave him nothing but a hollow look, my voice a rasp. “Say it, then.”

    He hesitated for a moment, then drew in a deep breath. “The vault at Stormridge Hospital–the one where

    years ago.”

    your

    seed was

    stored–was tampered with. Over two

    I only blinked. My lips moved in a t, disinterested murmur. “Oh.”

    It was like he had told me the weather, something entirely divorced from the ashes of my world. For what did it matter? Riley was gone. My wolf still howled each night for his mate, and no answer came.

    Caelum’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing with frustration at my indifference. But then he pressed on, his words striking like ws to the chest.

    “Alpha Lucien… you and Riley have a daughter.”

    The world stopped.

    The embroidery slipped from my hands and fell to the floor, forgotten. My breath

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    caught, ragged and uneven. For the first time since Riley’s death, fire surged through my veins.

    My gaze locked on him, sharp as a de unsheathed. “What did you say?” My voice cracked, gravel and thunder.

    He nodded fiercely, like a wolf confirming a kill. “Yes. A child. Your child with Riley. Conceived after she was forced… after Dean Elira ckthorn and Caden Wilson manipted her and stole her eggs. They took your seed from the vault. It wasn’t meant to seed, but by chance, by fate–it did. She carried your blood, Lucien. And she lives.”

    My body trembled violently. The wolf inside me surged, ramming against the confines of my ribs, snarling, demanding I act.

    “You’re certain,” I growled.

    “I have no doubts.” Caelum’s eyes glimmered. “I traced it all. When Carmen struck, she found the child, and before her arrested she entrusted her to Duke. Your loyal Duke. The girl is with him now–or at least she was. I’ve been unable to reach him. His line has been silent. That’s why I came. You need to know.”

    For the first time in endless days, I felt my spine straighten, my shoulders braced. Life returned to my limbs like blood to a limb long numb.

    A daughter. Riley’s daughter. My daughter.

    It was as though the moon itself pierced the darkness of my chest, lighting the path forward.

    I staggered to my feet too quickly, and the room spun around me. I had not eaten properly in days, perhaps longer. My body was weak, but my wolf snarled at me, driving me upright with sheer will.

    I nearly copsed back into the chair, my breaths ragged, but my hands gripped the armrest like ws into earth. “Where is she?” My voice trembled, raw with need. “Where is my pup?“/

    Caelum’s throat bobbed. “With Duke. Or so it should be. If he’s hidden her, it is only to protect her until you are strong enough to im her.”

    The thought of Duke hiding my daughter churned a possessive fury in my gut. But

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    beneath it was gratitude. Duke was loyal. If he carried out Carmen’s wish, then my child had been guarded, even while Iy rotting in grief.

    I forced myself upright again, swaying but unyielding. My wolf braced me from within, his growl echoing through my bones.

    “I’ming,” I said hoarsely. “Now. Take me to her.”

    Caelum reached out as if to steady me, his face tight with concern. “Lucien—you can barely stand—”

    “I don’t care.” My voice cut sharp as a de. “She’s mine. Riley’s blood and mine. I won’t waste another breath here while my daughter waits.”

    The silk embroideryy abandoned at my feet, but the ghost of Riley’s scent clung to me still. For the first time since her death, my heart did not only ache with grief —it burned with a savage, primal hope.

    My wolf roared inside me, not with mourning, but with purpose.

    I had a daughter. And I would tear down the world itself to bring her home.

    Chapte

    C