Chapter 187

Chapter 187
Lucas's POV:
Marcus's words hung heavy in the air, cutting through me like a blade.
I stared at him in disbelief. Marcus had been my Beta for years, my most trusted advisor, and now even he was turning against me.
"You think I don't deserve her," I said quietly, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.
Marcus studied me for a long moment, and he finally spoke.
"I think," he said carefully, "that maybe you two just aren't right for each other. And maybe... maybe it's time to let each other go."
He continued quietly. "Look at the pain, the constant conflict, the way you keep hurting each other. You all need a fresh start."
I wanted to argue, to fight back, but the truth in his words was undeniable.
"I never wanted to hurt Sophia," I said quietly.
"I know," Marcus replied. "But intention and impact are two different things."
I sank into my chair, the fight suddenly draining out of me. "She's the Lycan Princess."
"Yes."
"For three years of our marriage, she hid that from me." I looked up at Marcus, confusion and hurt warring in my expression. "Why would she do that?"
"Maybe," Marcus said thoughtfully, "she wanted to be loved for who she was, not what she represented."
My chest felt like it was caving in as the full scope of her sacrifice became clear. Sophia had walked away from a palace, from servants, from being revered and cherished by an entire kingdom. She'd traded a crown for the chance to be an ordinary wife in an ordinary pack.
"She must have felt so alone," I whispered.
I looked around my destroyed office, papers scattered like the pieces of my shattered life.
"She came here with nothing," I said, my voice barely audible. "My family treated her like she was beneath them. Isabelle mocked her background, Elena questioned her worthiness, the pack whispered about whether some 'nobody omega' deserved to be Luna."
A bitter laugh escaped my throat, harsh and self-loathing. "The irony is so cruel it's almost funny. "
The princess of our kingdom had been living in my pack, sleeping in my bed, trying to be a good wife to me, and I'd allowed her to be treated like she was lucky to be there.
"No wonder she left," I whispered, the words tearing from my throat. "No wonder she finally had enough."
Marcus was quiet for a long moment, and when I looked up at him, I saw something like sympathy in his expression.
"Lucas," he said carefully, his voice gentler than it had been all evening. "There's something else you need to know."
I braced myself, not sure I could handle any more revelations about how badly I'd failed.
"Maybe I shouldn't tell you this," Marcus continued, hesitating. "Given everything you're already dealing with... but you have a right to know."
The way he was avoiding my eyes made my stomach clench with dread. "What is it?"
Marcus took a deep breath, clearly struggling with whether to speak. "Sophia is pregnant."
My head snapped up, my heart suddenly racing. "What?"
For one brief, brilliant moment, pure joy exploded through my chest.
"She's carrying a child," Marcus continued. "From what I understand, she conceived during the period when you two were... estranged. When she was pulling away because of the pain you caused her."
My heart soared with the possibility—our baby, a chance to build the family we'd always talked about, a reason for her to come back, to give us another chance.
But then something in Marcus's tone, the careful way he'd phrased his words, made me pause.
"During the period when you two were estranged."
The joy began to curdle in my stomach as the implications hit me.
"Wait," I said slowly, my voice growing uncertain. "Marcus, what do you mean?"
Marcus's expression grew more somber, and I could see him weighing his words carefully. "Lucas, that period was exactly when Micheal was living at Starlight Pack."
The timeline hit me like a physical blow, and suddenly a memory I'd tried to bury came rushing back with crystal clarity.
The brief moment of joy I'd felt about the pregnancy died completely, replaced by a pain so sharp it felt like my chest was caving in.
That terrible morning when I hoped to find Sophia, hoping to bridge the growing distance between us. I'd walked into her bedroom and found...
"Michael," I whispered, the name feeling like broken glass in my throat.
I could see it all again—Michael's bare torso as he sat on the edge of Sophia's bed, Sophia beside him with her hair disheveled, both of them turning toward me with startled expressions.
At the time, I'd been so consumed with rage and jealousy that I'd stormed out before demanding explanations. Moreover, Sophia did not chase after me.
"The father," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "It's Michael, right?"