I can barely stand, my legs trembling with every step, the afterbirth still staining the hem of my nightgown. The storm rages outside Blackthorn Hall, mirroring the chaos inside me. I had to see him—to show him our son, to share this miracle. But through the cracked parlor door, I see candlelight dancing on crystal glasses. Nathaniel laughs, lifting a toast. 'To our future,' he says, kissing Seraphina’s hand. 'With Isabella gone and the babe buried quietly, the Voss fortune will be ours by spring.' My breath catches. The baby stirs in my arms, whimpering. I press a finger to his lips. They can’t know we’re alive. Not yet.\n\nRain soaks through my thin gown as I retreat into the woods. Every instinct screams to run—but I don’t. I watch the house burn with rage instead. They think I’m weak. They think I’ll fade. But I was born an heir. And no one teaches a lioness to hunt quite like taking her cub.