Princes’ Lover

Chapter 17

POV Eva

I should have known I couldn't hide forever.

The east wing alcove seemed safe—secluded, quiet, far from the main corridors where princes and servants constantly circulate.

I just needed a moment to breathe, to gather the fragments of myself that keep scattering with each passing day.

But Matteo appears at one end of the alcove before I can turn around. And when I spin to flee the other direction, Soren materializes like frost given form, blocking my escape.

Trapped. Again.

"Going somewhere, princess?" Matteo's voice has lost its silk. Only danger remains.

"I was just…"

"Done." Soren's single word cuts through my excuse like a blade. "We're done with games."

They close in from both sides, and I press my back against the cold stone wall. My heart hammers so loud I'm certain they can hear it.

The pretense of seduction is gone from their faces—replaced by something harder. Colder. Demanding.

"You're hiding something." Matteo stops an arm's length away, dark eyes boring into mine. "Your scent. Your reactions. The way your body responded to us yesterday."

His jaw tightens. "You remember everything, Eva. We both know it."

"I don't know what you're…"

"Stop lying." Soren's voice is winter itself. "We've been patient. We've played your game of pretend. But our patience is exhausted."

"Either you tell us the truth willingly," Matteo adds, his tone dropping to something almost gentle—which somehow makes it more terrifying, "or we find other ways to extract it."

The threat hangs between us. I look from one to the other, Matteo's predatory focus, Soren's icy intensity, and feel the last of my defenses crumbling.

Days of lies. Days of fear. Days of carrying this weight alone while it grows heavier with each passing hour.

The pregnancy symptoms that keep ambushing me. The guilt that poisons every interaction. The terror of what happens when the truth finally emerges.

It all crashes down at once.

My eyes burn with tears I've been fighting for weeks. My voice breaks when I finally speak.

"Yes." The word tears from my throat like a confession. "I remember you. Both of you. I've known since the gala."

Matteo's expression flickers—vindication mixed with something else. "Since the gala."

"Your scents." A bitter laugh escapes me. "Cedar and smoke. Frost and pine. The moment you walked into that receiving room, I knew exactly who you were. Who had been in that bed with me."

Soren's pale eyes narrow. "You've been pretending this entire time."

"What choice did I have?"

The tears spill over now, tracking hot paths down my cheeks.

"Admit that I recognized the wolves who fucked me in some stranger's apartment? Explain to my father that two of my suitors already knew what I taste like?"

"There's more." Matteo steps closer, nostrils flaring. "Your scent hasn't just changed from that night—it's been changing since we arrived. Getting sweeter. Different." His voice drops. "What are you hiding, Eva?"

The question shatters what's left of my composure.

"I'm pregnant."

Silence crashes over the alcove like a physical wave.

Matteo goes completely still. Soren's mask cracks, shock bleeding through the ice. They stare at me, at my still-flat stomach, with expressions that cycle through disbelief, realization, and something that looks almost like fear.

"Pregnant," Soren repeats slowly.

"I don't know which of you is the father."

More tears fall, and I don't bother wiping them away.

"I don't even know if werewolf biology works that way—if it's possible for a child to have two sires. But there's a pup growing inside me, and it belongs to one of you. Maybe both of you. I don't know."

Matteo and Soren exchange a loaded glance. Something passes between them—silent communication born from shared guilt and shared disaster.

"How long have you known?" Matteo asks.

"Since the gala. Matteo, you smelled it yourself. That's why you mentioned my scent changing." I wrap my arms around my stomach, protective instinct I can't suppress. "I took a test. It confirmed everything."

"And you've been carrying this alone." Soren's voice is strange—almost soft. "For days. While we've been hunting you for answers."

"What was I supposed to do?"

My voice rises, hysteria edging in.

"Walk up to my father and announce that I'm pregnant by wolves who aren't even officially courting me yet? That I spread my legs for strangers before the matchmaking even began?"

"Eva…"

"He would destroy me. Destroy you. This pregnancy could start a war between our packs."

I laugh, but there's no humor in it. "So yes, I've been hiding. Lying. Pretending I don't remember the night that ruined everything. Because the alternative is watching my entire world burn."

The confession hangs in the air like smoke, heavy and suffocating. Matteo runs a hand through his dark hair, his usual composure fractured.

Soren has gone pale, paler than usual, his frost-colored eyes fixed on my stomach with an intensity that borders on reverent.

Then both men go rigid.

Their wolves surge to attention simultaneously—I can see it in the sudden tension of their bodies, the amber and silver bleeding into their eyes. Their nostrils flare, scenting something I can't detect.

"Someone's here." Matteo's voice drops to a growl.

Soren moves first, rushing toward the corridor with predatory speed. Matteo follows close behind, leaving me pressed against the wall with my heart in my throat.

I hear their footsteps echo down the hallway. Hear doors opening, closing. Hear low voices conferring in urgent tones.

Then silence.

They return with grim expressions, and I know before they speak that the news isn't good.

"Empty." Soren's jaw is tight enough to crack. "Whoever it was fled before we could identify them."

"But someone was there." Matteo's dark eyes are troubled. "Another Alpha, based on the scent. They heard everything."

The implications settle over me like a funeral shroud.

"Everything," I repeat numbly. "The pregnancy. Your involvement. The timeline..."

"The timeline that damns us all." Matteo finishes. "If whoever that was decides to talk—"

"We're destroyed." Soren cuts in. "All three of us."

I look between the two men who helped create this disaster. Twenty-four hours ago, they were hunting me for sport. Cornering me for seduction. Playing games with my body and my secrets.

Now they stand shoulder to shoulder, united by the threat of mutual destruction.

"What do we do?" My voice sounds small, lost.

Matteo and Soren exchange another glance—this one longer, weighted with unspoken agreement.

"We find out who was listening," Matteo says. "Before they can use what they heard."

"And we protect what's ours." Soren's pale eyes drop to my stomach, and something possessive flickers in their depths. "All of it."

Enemies yesterday. Reluctant allies now.

I look at the two wolves who share responsibility for the life growing inside me—the two wolves who might be the only thing standing between me and complete destruction.

We have no choice but to work together.