Celina’s POV
THE CITY felt different without Lucien’s shadow looming over me.
Different… and dangerous.
I told myself I wanted space, that walking away from his office was some kind of victory. But as I stepped into the streets with one of his enforcers—Marcus, a broad-shouldered Beta who looked like he ate concrete for breakfast—I realized freedom came with a price. My skin prickled with the weight of eyes I couldn’t see.
“Stay close,” Marcus murmured, his voice low, scanning the crowd like every stranger might sprout claws.
I forced a laugh I didn’t feel. “I’m pregnant, not porcelain. I can walk to a café without an armed escort.”
He didn’t smile. “You’re carrying his heir. You’re worth more than porcelain. You’re worth wars.”
That shut me up.
The late afternoon sun slid between
