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Comrade 80

Comrade 80

The sky above was streaked with fading gold and purple, the last traces of sunset slipping away as two wolves-turned-humans rode on horseback deeper into the forest. Max was ahead, guiding the path, but his shoulders were stiff, and his jaw clenched like he already knew something was coming.

Eva followed closely behind, the reins clutched in her hands, her heart pounding so hard it echoed in her ears. The words she needed to say had been growing heavier by the hour, pushing against her chest until she couldn’t breathe. She had rehearsed it in her head over and over, but now, in the fading light and thick silence, everything felt wrong and fragile.

“Max,” she said softly.

He pulled on his reins, stopping his horse just before the bend in the trail. He turned his head slightly but didn’t look at her. “Yeah?”

Eva dismounted and walked over to him. Her legs felt like jelly. She was scared—not of him, but of what her truth might do to him.

“I need to tell you something,” she said, her voice shaking despite the calm she tried to fake. “It’s not about the prophecy or the war. It’s… about me.”

He finally looked down at her, those sharp green eyes guarded but gentle. “Okay.”

She swallowed, eyes falling to the forest floor, to the roots that twisted like secrets buried deep. “I think I’m pregnant.”

Max didn’t move at first. Not a blink. Not a breath. Then, slowly, his hands clenched around the reins. His entire body tensed like someone had driven a blade straight through his heart.

“And it might be his,” Eva added, barely above a whisper.

Max looked away. He slid off his horse, boots crunching on the dried leaves below. He took a few steps forward, his back to her. One hand raked through his hair, the other curled into a fist.

“Of course,” he muttered bitterly. “Of course it would be him.”

Eva’s heart twisted. She took a step closer. “Max…”

He turned halfway, not fully facing her. His eyes were bright, not from the light, but from the emotions tearing through him.

“I was always too late, wasn’t I?” he said, voice hoarse. “When you needed someone… I stayed in the shadows. When he lied, I stayed quiet. When you cried, I watched. And now… this.”

Eva’s throat tightened. “It wasn’t like that.”

Max shook his head, his jaw clenched. “I’ve fought vampires. I’ve bled for my people. I’ve waited, Eva. I’ve waited for you. And still, I’m the one watching from the sidelines while he—”

She cut him off, stepping in front of him, grabbing his hand even as he tried to pull away. “You think I planned this? That I chose to be caught between all of this?”

His gaze dropped to her hand holding his. He didn’t pull back this time.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “Not because I regret anything… but because I don’t know what comes next. I don’t even know what this baby means. I don’t know if I’m carrying a wolf… or something hybrid.”

Max’s eyes softened, just barely. “You still trust him?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But I trust you.”

Those words cracked something inside him. He looked at her like he wanted to believe her, needed to, but years of pain, betrayal, and watching her fall for someone else had left him too broken to jump in blindly.

Eva stepped even closer. “Do you still want me now?” she asked. Her voice was small. Not because she was weak—but because the question meant everything. And she was terrified of the answer.

Max stared at her for a long moment. His brows were furrowed, his lips parted like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. Then, slowly, he lifted his hand and touched her cheek.

“I wanted you when you were broken,” he said softly, his thumb brushing her skin like a promise. “When you doubted yourself. When you were grieving. When you couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror.”

He stepped closer, their bodies almost touching now.

“I wanted you when you were weak. I want you now that you’re strong. And I’ll want you even if he’s the father.”

Comrade

Comrade

Score 9.9
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Comrade Summary & Review: Comrade

Princess Evangeline of Morwyn sat in the quiet waiting room of the royal physician’s office, her mind a whirlwind of fear and fragile hope. The grand palace, bathed in soft afternoon light, felt both like a home and a cage. She had been married to Crown Prince Sebastian of Valdris for three years, but their union was nothing more than a political arrangement—an alliance forged by their fathers to secure peace between their lands.

From the very beginning, Sebastian made it clear that his marriage to Evangeline was purely out of duty, not affection. They slept in separate chambers, exchanged only polite words in public, and maintained a cold civility that masked the emptiness beneath. Evangeline had once dreamed that time might change things, that she might earn his heart, but years of distance had buried that hope deep inside her.

Recently, however, her body had begun to change. She felt nauseated in the mornings, dizzy, and uncommonly tired. These signs, though subtle, stirred a small flame of longing within her—a desperate wish that she might finally be carrying his child. Perhaps, she thought, a baby could soften Sebastian’s heart and give meaning to their lifeless marriage.

When the physician, Master Aldrich, appeared at the doorway, his kind smile gave her both comfort and dread. He led her into his study, a cozy room filled with the scent of herbs, the warmth of a crackling fire, and shelves of ancient medical texts. Evangeline sat nervously as the old man took a sealed parchment from his desk.

With a gentle voice, Master Aldrich delivered the news that would change everything: “Your Highness, I’m delighted to tell you that you are indeed expecting.”

Evangeline’s breath caught in her throat. Her trembling hands broke the royal seal and scanned the words written neatly across the parchment. Pregnant. She was truly with child. Before she could even absorb the shock, Master Aldrich continued, beaming with joy—she was not carrying just one baby, but twins.

The revelation sent a rush of emotion through her—relief, disbelief, joy. Twins! Two heirs for the royal family. The weight of that realization made her dizzy, but it also filled her with warmth and purpose. For the first time in years, she smiled with genuine happiness. Perhaps this was the miracle she needed to mend what had long been broken.

In that moment, she imagined Sebastian’s face lighting up with pride and excitement. She pictured him embracing her, maybe even thanking her. The thought filled her with renewed courage. She thanked Master Aldrich graciously and insisted that she would tell Sebastian the news herself. This moment, she decided, must belong to them alone.

Walking through the grand marble corridors of the palace, Evangeline’s heart felt light for the first time in years. Servants bowed as she passed, but she hardly noticed them—her mind was focused only on Sebastian and the life growing inside her. She wanted to see him, to share the joy, to believe that maybe, just maybe, love could still bloom between them.

As she approached the door of Sebastian’s private study, her steps quickened. She called out softly, “Sebastian! My lord, I have the most wonderful news to—”

But her voice faltered.

Through the half-open door, Evangeline froze at the sight before her. Her husband stood with Lady Cordelia Ashworth, daughter of the Duke of Greymont, wrapped in his arms. The woman’s fiery red hair cascaded over Sebastian’s shoulders as he held her close. Evangeline’s heart stopped when she saw him tilt Cordelia’s chin upward and press his lips to hers—a tender, passionate kiss filled with the warmth and love she had begged the heavens for all these years.

It was everything she had ever wanted—and it wasn’t hers.

For a long, unbearable second, Evangeline could only stare. The parchment with her pregnancy confirmation still trembled in her hand. Then, in a broken whisper, she said his name: “Sebastian…”

The Crown Prince turned sharply, surprise flashing across his features before being quickly masked by his usual calm. Cordelia paled and stepped back, though Sebastian’s arm lingered protectively around her waist.

“Evangeline,” he said evenly, as though she were a stranger interrupting him, “what brings you here?”

Her throat tightened. She forced herself to stand tall, even as tears burned behind her eyes. “I… I live here,” she managed, her voice quivering. “I’m your wife.”

Sebastian’s cold gaze didn’t soften. “Is there something you need?” he asked, the same way he might address a court official.

Something inside Evangeline broke. Just minutes ago, she had been radiant with hope, ready to tell him that she carried his children—the future of his line. But now, staring at the indifference in his eyes and the woman in his arms, she realized the truth she had avoided for too long.

He would never love her. Not even their unborn children could change that.

A calmness settled over her—a cold, regal resolve that masked the chaos in her chest. Straightening her shoulders, Evangeline met his gaze with all the dignity her title demanded.

“Yes, my lord,” she said clearly. “There is something I need.”

Sebastian raised a brow, perhaps expecting her to plead, to cry, to beg for an explanation. Instead, she spoke words that shattered the silence of the study.

“I want an annulment.”

Both Sebastian and Cordelia froze. The shock in their eyes was almost satisfying. Cordelia gasped aloud, pressing a hand to her mouth, while Sebastian’s expression turned dark and unreadable.

“What did you say?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

Evangeline’s chin lifted higher. Her hands no longer trembled. “You heard me perfectly,” she said. “I want our marriage annulled.”

In that instant, the timid princess who had once waited for scraps of affection was gone. What remained was a woman who had found her strength—not through her husband’s love, but through the pain he had caused.

Inside, she knew she carried the next heirs of the throne—his heirs—but she would not allow that to bind her to a man who treated her like a political pawn. She would raise her children with dignity, even if she had to walk away from the palace to do it.

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the crackle of the fireplace and the unspoken consequences of her declaration. But Evangeline didn’t wait for a reply. Gathering her skirts, she turned toward the door, her heart broken yet unburdened.

Her steps echoed through the marble halls as she walked away from the man who had never seen her—and toward the freedom she was finally claiming for herself.

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