After five months :

The grand Morin Hotel glowed with chandeliers, its halls filled with the chatter of guests, perfumes, and expensive laughter. Outside the ballroom, violins played softly, a perfect backdrop for the wedding of two influential families.

And in one of the private bridal rooms, Stiles stood in front of a mirror, her heart pounding with dread.

Her wedding dress was nothing like the modest silks her mother had wanted. No—Stiles had chosen something that clung to her curves, a sheer bodice that displayed the swell of her cleavage, the gown hugging her hips before flowing out. A slit teased her leg when she moved. And beneath the white silk and lace was the unmistakable swell of her belly.

Four months pregnant.

Her breasts fuller, heavy in the corset. Her ass rounder, straining against the dress. She was glowing—but her eyes were hollow.

Everyone outside believed it was Scott’s child.

But the truth swelled inside her womb.

They were Derek’s.

She placed both hands on her belly, whispering to herself, “My babies…”

The door creaked. She thought it was her father coming to escort her. Instead, a shadow filled the doorway.

Her heart stopped.

“Derek…” she whispered.

He stepped inside, shutting the door with a sharp click. He looked the same—tall, broad, his hands rough from work, his eyes dark—but there was anger, betrayal, and hurt burning inside them.

“So the slut really is going to marry someone else,” he spat, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through her soul.

Stiles trembled, tears already stinging her lashes. “Derek…”

His eyes raked over her body, and a cruel smirk twisted his lips. “Look at you… dressed like a whore even on your wedding day. Do you want the whole crowd to see your tits and ass bursting out of that dress?”

Her face flushed hot, her throat dry. She wanted to fight back, to tell him it wasn’t like that, but shame kept her lips trembling.

Then his gaze dropped lower.

His smirk vanished.

His eyes widened as he stepped closer, his palm pressing against her swollen belly.

“You’re pregnant…” his voice cracked, heavy with something between shock and rage.

Stiles’s lips quivered. She nodded, tears slipping down.

His jaw clenched. “Is it mine?”

She looked down, silence stretching between them.

He growled, grabbing her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Stiles! Is it mine?!”

Her body shook. Tears streamed down her face. Finally, she nodded.

Derek’s chest rose and fell sharply, his nostrils flaring. He pulled his hand back over her belly, caressing it with trembling fingers. His voice came out broken and furious.

“You’re carrying my baby… and you’re going to marry that bastard?”

Stiles sobbed, covering her face with her hands. “I-I can’t… Derek… I can’t provide for them on my own… I don’t have the strength, the money—”

“It’s twins, Derek…” she whispered, voice breaking.

He froze. His body stiffened. “What?”

She lowered her hands, tears staining her cheeks. “I’m carrying two babies.”

His heart slammed against his ribs. His hands gripped her belly tighter, protective instinct flooding him. “Two…” he breathed. “Two of mine.”

Her sobs echoed through the room.

He cupped her face, his voice cracking between rage and pain. “Don’t marry him, Stiles. Don’t you dare give him my babies. Don’t you dare let that man raise them.”

She clutched his wrists, trembling. “My family will never allow me to be with you, Derek. They’ll kill you if I try. You know what they’re capable of…”

“Fuck them,” Derek growled, pulling her body flush against his. His hands slid down, gripping her ass harshly through the silk. “These are my babies, Stiles. My babies. And you’re mine. I’ll take care of you, of them, of everything. You don’t need that rich bastard or his money.”

Her lips trembled as she buried her face in his chest, sobbing. “I’m so scared, Derek…”

He bent down, kissing her hair, holding her tight. “Then come with me. Let’s run. Let’s elope tonight. Fuck the money, fuck the luxuries, fuck your parents’ pride. I won’t let another man claim my kids—or you.”

Her body melted in his arms, torn between fear and the wild hope his words sparked. She had dreamed of this—dreamed of Derek taking her away, protecting her, giving her the love no one else ever could.

But the voices of her parents echoed in her mind. The threats. The weight of family honor.

Derek gripped her face, forcing her teary eyes to meet his. “Say yes, Stiles. Tell me you’ll run away with me. Tell me you’ll give my babies their father.”

Her lips parted, trembling. The world outside—the music, the guests, the wedding—all faded away. Only Derek, his breath hot, his hands rough but desperate, his heart pounding for her, remained.

And her own heart screamed for him too.