Chapter 4 -FOUR-

Ingrid's Point Of View.

A Year Later.

The royal nursery was a sanctuary of ivory silk and shattered silence. A year ago, this room had been a cold guest suite, now it was the beating heart of the Valerius Empire.

I looked down at the bundle in my arms, my chest tight with a brand of love that felt more like a wound. My son. Valen. 

He had Erebus's dark hair and my stubborn jaw, a perfect fusion of a billionaire heiress and a man the world believed was a dead monster.

We had played the game perfectly. For twelve months, Erebus had resigned as Prince Elio, the Prince of Obsidian Peak. He had charmed the board, silenced the Council and dismantled my enemies with the surgical precision of a wolf in a three piece suit. To the public, the 'Rogue King's had been caught seven months ago- a charred, unrecognizable corpse dragged from a forest fire in the northern territories. We had celebrated the execution with champagne, while the real King watched from the head of my table, his golden eyes reflecting the bubbles in his glass.

"He's finally asleep," I whispered, resting my forehead against the baby's soft temple.

Erebus was standing by the window, his silhouette cutting a lethal line against the moonlit Manhattan skyline. He hadn't touched the baby today, nor had he touched me. There was a distance in his scent- less cedar and storm, more ash and dread.

"You've been standing there for an hour, Erebus," I said, my voice softening as I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around him. "Come see him. He has your eyes when he's grumpy."

He didn't move. He just spoke. "The Council sent a gift today," he said in a low hollow rasp. "A traditional silver rattle. I had Marcus melt it down before it reached the door."

"They still don't trust us," I sighed as I left him and walked over to Valen's cradle, picking up the baby to rock him slowly to calm his whines. "But it doesn't matter. The merger is complete. The Jewel empire is secure. We have a son. We won, Erebus."

"Did we?" He finally turned. In the dim glow of the nightlight, he looked older. The scars on his face seemed deeper, etched by an emotion he'd been carrying since the moment the midwife handed him his son. He walked towards me, leaned down and pecked my forehead, making me sigh in satisfaction as I leaned in closer, wanting his touch to linger more.

He suddenly pulled away and looked down at Valen, his lips thinning.

"Erebus, what is-" my words were cut short when I looked down at Valen, expecting to see the peaceful rise and fall of his chest but he was still.

"Valen?" I reached out, brushing my thumb against the baby's cheek, my blood turned to ice as I felt it.

He was cold. Not the chill of a drafty room, but a deep, unnatural frost that seemed to emanate from his very bones. I pulled up his shirt and I felt the air leave my lungs.

A network of thin, black veins was spidering up from Valen's chest, reaching for his throat like ink spreading through water. His breathing was shallow, a rhythmic wet rattle that sounded nothing like a healthy infant.

"Erebus-" I choked out. "He's sick... Marcus! The pack healers- the doctors!" I began to panic, I placed Valen back in his cradle and was about to dash out when Erebus held me still, gripping my shoulders.

"The doctors can't help him, Ingrid," his voice was tight and filled with a type of anger I had never seen before. "I'm sorry,"

"What are you talking about? Look at him! He's turning gray!" I yelled, unshed tears blurring my vision. "It's a virus or maybe the Council poisoned the nursery-"

"It's not poison," Erebus said, he let go of me and reached down, finally touching the baby. His fingers traced the black veins with a terrifying familiarity. "It's the blood. My blood."

I froze, looking from my dying son to my husband. "What do you mean? You're healthy. You're strong-"

"I am a Rogue, Ingrid," he whispered, his golden eyes finally welling with a grief that shattered my soul. "Did you think that the word just meant 'homeless?' Did you think I was cast out because I broke a law?"

He pulled his shirt open, revealing his own chest. In the center of his heart, hidden beneath the scars I had kissed a thousand times, was a faint dormant version of the same mark Valen bore.

"My lineage didn't die out because of hunters," Erebus rasped, his voice breaking. "We were cursed by the first Alpha we ever defied. It's the price of our freedom. The Rogue's debt."

I shook my head as the tears ran down my cheeks. "No. There's a cure. There has to be a cure. We have billions of dollars, Erebus. We have the best scientists in the world, we can-"

"You can't bribe the moon, Ingrid." He looked down at Valen, whose tiny hands were now clawing weakly at the air, his eyes flying open- not gold, not blue, but a terrifying void like black. Erebus leaned down and kissed the baby's forehead, a goodbye that felt like a death sentence I couldn't bear to accept. He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw the Rogue King- not the prince, not the husband, but the man who had seen everything he loved turn to ash.

"This is why Rogues don't have packs," He continued. "This is why we walk alone. Because the Blood of a Rogue is a poison to the next generation."

My wolf suddenly snapped, I reached out, grabbing his lapels, shaking him, my wolf howling in a mourning cry that shook the very foundation of the penthouse. "Fix this! Fix him! Please! Fix our son!"

He gripped my wrists, pulling me close to him as I began to cry against his chest. "I can't," he choked out. "The first son of a Rogue King never survives the first year. It's the law of my bloodline. To save the father, the son is just the sacrifice. Valen isn't sick, Ingrid. He's being...reclaimed."

"So you rather watch your son die?!" I growled as I pushed him away, making him hit the wall. 

"No. I rather let my son die than let you die!"

"W-what- what are you saying?"

"The family that cursed my family....were your ancestors. And in order to save the child. The childbearer must die," he then stopped, his breath now uneven. "Which is you"