When I woke, the sheets were still stained with blood.
My stomach throbbed with dull, pulsing pain. I thought—again—that I had lost the baby.
The door slammed open. Several Nightfog guards stormed in, holding binding seals.
“Luna Luna Ivy,” one said coldly, “Alpha Alpha Adrian has ordered your relocation to the dungeon.”
“What did I do wrong?” My voice cracked.
No answer.
They cuffed my wrists with rune-bound chains and dragged me from the room—toward the Nightfog dungeon.
The dungeon was cold and damp. On the walls were countless photos of Omega Shirley, smiling, pregnant, radiant.
“Are these… even real?” I whispered.
“They’re not,” a young nurse murmured.
I turned sharply. “What did you say?”
She paled. “I shouldn’t have—don’t let Dr. Ryan hear me—”
Right on cue, Ryan entered
