Chapter 3

Isla kept her hand against the front door until she was sure she could move without making a sound.

Inside, Melinda was already looking for Alpha Reid's number.

She backed down the steps, walked past the gates, and didn't stop until the house was hidden behind the trees. Then she took Logan's card from her bag.

He answered on the third ring.

"That was quick."

"I'll have the baby," she said, gripping the phone with both hands. "But you have to marry me."

There was a pause.

"Marriage wasn't part of my offer."

"Then you have my answer."

A car passed, its headlights sweeping over her. She turned away, trying to keep her breathing quiet.

"Where are you?" Logan asked.

"Does it matter?"

"It does if we're going to discuss this."

He gave her the address of a cafe and told her to meet him there in forty minutes.

Isla thought the cafe had closed early until a waiter opened the door and addressed her by name.

Logan sat near the back windows, his jacket draped over an empty chair. Two men occupied a table on the other side of the room, but there were no other customers.

"Where is everyone?" she asked as she sat.

"I booked the place."

"For a conversation?"

His expression suggested he didn't understand the question.

The waiter brought water and a menu. Isla glanced at the prices before putting it down.

"Just tea, please."

"And something to eat," Logan added.

"I'm not hungry."

"When did you last eat?"

She couldn't remember, which apparently answered him. He ordered a sandwich, then waited until the waiter had left.

"Why marriage?"

Isla had spent the journey rehearsing explanations, but none of them seemed usable with him watching her.

She wouldn't tell this stranger that her father had put a price on her. She couldn't bear the thought of him looking at her with pity, or worse, realizing how little room she had to negotiate.

"I don't want my child growing up being told their mother wasn't worth marrying."

Logan's gaze sharpened slightly.

"Is that what you think would happen?"

"I know people can be cruel when they think there's nobody to stop them."

He said nothing, and she hurried to fill the silence.

"I'm not asking to be your Luna. You wouldn't have to introduce me at events or give me any position in your pack."

"What exactly would you be asking for?"

"A year," she said. "We stay married through the pregnancy and for a little while afterward. Then we divorce."

The waiter arrived with her tea and sandwich, giving her something to look at besides Logan.

"I wouldn't ask for much when it's over," she continued. "Enough to get somewhere to live while I find work."

"And the child?"

Her fingers tightened around the cup.

"I'd need to be able to see them."

"You'd agree to all this for visitation?"

"I'd agree to a divorce," she said, looking up. "Not to stop being their mother."

Logan leaned back, studying her for so long that she began to regret coming.

She picked up half the sandwich, then put it down again.

"Isla."

She met his eyes.

"Eat. I'm thinking."

She took a bite because she needed something to do, and because the first mouthful made her realize how hungry she was.

After a while, Logan turned toward the other table.

"Bring the documents."

One of the men approached with a briefcase.

Isla swallowed. "You brought a lawyer?"

"You asked me to marry you."

"I thought you'd say no."

"I haven't said yes yet."

Heat rose in her face, but before she could reach for her bag, he continued.

"One year. You'll have appropriate financial support afterward, and continued access to the child. The details will be put in writing."

She stared at him.

"You're agreeing?"

"Provided you stop looking as though I'm about to withdraw the offer."

The next two hours passed in a blur of paperwork, quiet phone calls, and questions Isla hadn't expected to answer that evening.

She read everything before signing, lingering over the provisions concerning the baby until Logan's lawyer explained them twice.

Then an authorized marriage registrar arrived carrying a leather folder, and Isla realized the paperwork wasn't merely preparation.

"We're doing this tonight?"

Logan glanced at her.

"Would you prefer another meeting?"

"No. I just..."

She looked at the form placed in front of her, with his name already printed beside hers.

Coel had always needed more time. After the next council meeting, after the next pack ceremony, once his recovery was further along.

There had always been a reason.

Logan picked up his pen.

By the time the registrar handed her the marriage certificate, the cafe staff were stacking chairs beyond the partition.

Isla ran a finger beneath her new husband's name.

"Keep that somewhere safe," Logan said.

She slipped it carefully into her bag.

Outside, the air had turned cold. Logan held the cafe door while she struggled with a twisted bag strap, then freed it from her sleeve without comment.

His fingers brushed her wrist, warm against her chilled skin.

"I've arranged a suite for tonight," he said. "My assistant will collect you at ten tomorrow and take you to the house."

She looked up. "Your house?"

"Unless you've found a different husband in the last five minutes."

Despite everything, a startled breath of laughter escaped her.

Logan's gaze lingered on her face before he opened the car door.

"If anything changes, call me."

The call came shortly after seven the next morning.

"Miss Isla?" The family housekeeper sounded strained. "Your father is unwell. He's asking for you."

Isla sat up against the hotel pillows.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He says it's his heart."

"Has anyone called a doctor?"

A pause followed.

"He asked me to call you first."

Isla closed her eyes.

Her mother had left her a small jewelry box that was still hidden at the back of her wardrobe, along with the documents she would need to start working. Yesterday, she hadn't dared go inside to retrieve them.

Now she had a marriage certificate and someone expecting her at ten.

"I'll come by," she said.

Before leaving, she messaged Logan's assistant with the address, explaining that she was collecting belongings from her father's house.

She kept the certificate in her bag.

Cassian was sitting on the sofa when she arrived, a blanket over his knees and a full breakfast on the table beside him.

"You took your time."

Isla glanced at the plate.

"What did the doctor say?"

"Sit down. We need to talk."

"I'd rather hear what's wrong with your heart."

Melinda emerged from the dining room.

"He's been under a great deal of stress because of you. Try showing some concern."

Isla remained standing.

Cassian pushed his untouched toast aside.

"After the trouble you've caused with Coel, the least you can do is help put things right."

"By doing what?"

"Alpha Reid has invited you to spend the evening with him."

Melinda smiled as though this were good news.

"He's been very generous, considering your circumstances."

"My circumstances?"

"Coel doesn't want you anymore," she said. "You can't expect men to line up for an Omega who's already lost her mate."

Isla looked at her father.

"Have you taken his money?"

Cassian's mouth tightened.

"That's none of your business."

She opened her bag and took out the certificate.

"Then you'll have to give it back."

Melinda glanced at the paper without reaching for it.

"What is that?"

"My marriage certificate."

Cassian pulled the blanket off his knees.

"Don't be ridiculous. What man would marry you after Coel?"

Isla placed the document on the table and turned it so he could read the name beside hers.

"Logan Vale," she said. "You can explain your arrangement with Alpha Reid to my husband."