Novels by Sherry Rudeen Smith

Elara povThe guards at the border stopped the car before I'd gone half a mile, telling me, with the apologetic firmness of men following orders they didn't personally love, that I needed the Alpha's permission to leave pack lands. I sat there with both hands on the wheel, feeling the last of my strength drain out through my fingers, wondering if I even had the energy left to argue.That's when a man's arm reached past my window and planted itself between me and the guards, a badge held up to catch the gatehouse light."She's leaving with me."I watched the guards' faces change in a single breath. It was the Alpha King's family crest, old and unmistakable even to men who'd probably never seen one up close.They lowered their heads and stepped back without a word, though one of them, dutiful to the end, reported it through the mind link before letting the car through — just doing his job, he said. I genuinely didn't care whether the report ever reached anyone. He was probably still at

Elara povI came to slowly, fluorescent light stinging behind my eyelids. A doctor leaned over the bed, voice low and careful in the register reserved for the worst kind of news."I'm sorry. We couldn't save the pregnancy. The procedure needed the Alpha's signature — should I call him?"I don't think I said anything. My silence must've read as consent, because he was already dialing before I'd processed *we couldn't save the pregnancy* — four words that quietly rearranged the next several months of my life.He held the phone out. Some numb, obedient part of me took it."I had a miscarriage," I said. My voice sounded far away. "I need your signature."A pause. Then he laughed — easy, disbelieving. "When were you even pregnant? Why didn't I know? Stop joking, love, Seraphine's in labor right now, this really isn't the time—"Behind his voice, a baby's cry. Then a second one. Voices erupting into congratulations."She had the twins," he said, grinning through the phone. "Can you believe

Elara povI checked the study first, since that's where he went to think when he didn't want to be found. His desk sat exactly as he'd left it that morning — border reports, his reading glasses folded shut. No sign he'd been back.My stomach dropped a little. If he wasn't here, he was still with her. I hated how fast my mind went there. I hated more that it was probably right.The family suites had always been in the east wing — his brother's old rooms. Lamp light showed under one door. I was halfway down the hall when it opened on its own and Seraphine stepped out in a robe that hadn't been tied with any urgency, hair mussed in a way that told its own story.She saw me and didn't flinch. If anything her whole body relaxed, like this was exactly what she'd been hoping for."Looking for him?" A slow smile. "Why won't you just give up?"I kept my voice level, though my heart was doing something frantic. "Because I want to hear it from him. Not you. We made vows never to betray each othe

Elara povI waited for him with a book open in my lap, though I couldn't tell you a word I read. The house had gone quiet in that muffled way it does after a death and a coronation happen under the same roof on the same day.I kept the clinic paperwork on the nightstand where I could see it under the lamp. I planned to hand it to him the second he walked in, before either of us could talk our way into another conversation about titles. I rehearsed it in my head like lines for a play I was scared to perform.Midnight came and went. I lit a second candle when the first one burned low, some dumb part of me convinced that if the room stayed bright enough he'd feel obligated to come back to it.My phone buzzed a little after one. For one stupid second I thought it might be him.It was a photograph.Her, asleep, tucked against someone's arm, hair loose on a pillow that wasn't hers. Bare shoulders. I recognized the headboard — I'd picked it out myself, in our first year, from a craftsman two

Elara povI found out on a Tuesday, at the little clinic on the east side of the pack lands, the one with dried lavender hanging from the rafters because the healer thinks it calms people down. I wasn't nervous, really. I was just tired of pretending my cycle being two weeks late was stress. Five years of marriage and no pregnancy will do that to you — you stop hoping out loud and start hoping quietly instead, in the part of your brain you don't let anyone see.The healer had to say it twice before it landed.I didn't tell anyone. Not the butler, not my own reflection — I actually avoided mirrors for a few days, worried I'd start crying and somehow use up the good news before I got to give it to Ronan.He and his twin brother had been gone two months, out chasing rogues along the northern border. I spent it the way I spent most of our marriage: waiting, and telling myself waiting counted as loving him. I reread books I already knew by heart. I hung around the kitchens more than a futu