Kill The Luna

15

Underneath the dark handkerchief, my heart didn't just break—it completely shattered. Every syllable that left Stefan’s mouth felt like a physical blow, a sharp dagger piercing straight into the deepest part of my soul. It was a pain far worse than any physical wound I had ever survived in my life. A cold sweat broke out across my palms as his voice filled the arena.

My mind spun into complete confusion. *How is he still looking for me?* I had truly believed he thought I was dead. Did he somehow track my movements after my fall, or did he witness the whole thing? No, common sense told me that if he had seen me surviving that night, he would have dragged me back to his cage immediately. I hadn't really forced myself to think about the logistics of that night until this exact moment. I still had no idea how I had magically ended up in the territory and arms of the Lycan King. It felt like a bizarre miracle. Someone must have risked their entire life to pick up my broken body, hide me from Stefan’s tracking dogs, and carry me to safety. Whoever that mystery savior was, I owed them a debt of appreciation I could never fully repay.

Down on the stadium floor, Stefan cleared his throat, his tone shifting into a deeply emotional, tragic pitch that made my skin crawl with disgust. "This girl goes by the name of Fedora," he announced, his voice vibrating with a perfect imitation of a grieving lover. "She was my wife, the light of my life. The people who know me personally can testify to how much I cherished her. I loved her more than anything or anyone in this entire world—even more than my own self."

I squeezed my eyes shut, biting my lip so hard I tasted copper. The sheer audacity of his performance was sickening.

"I opened a massive joint bank account for the two of us," Stefan continued, his voice catching slightly as if he were trying to choke back real tears. "Everything I had earned, my entire life savings, was placed in that account. She knew the passwords to everything because our marriage was built on absolute trust and pure love. But this girl... she took advantage of my kindness. She drained almost my entire fortune, robbed me blind, and ran away into the night. I don't know why she did it, but right now, I am on a relentless search to find her."

A low murmur of pity and anger rippled through the surrounding crowd. They were buying his sob story completely.

Stefan paused, letting the dramatic silence hang in the air before raising his voice again. "So I am begging you all, if you spot her anywhere, in any town or any territory, please bring her back to me. And if you happen to know her and cross paths with her, just tell her she can keep every single cent of the money. I don't care about the wealth. I just want my beautiful wife back in my arms." He drew in a long, shaky breath before delivering his final blow. "Whoever captures her and delivers her to me safely will receive a cash reward of two million dollars. In case you have never seen her face before, I have already had my men place her pictures at the main entrance gates. Everyone leaving today can get a clear glimpse of exactly what she looks like."

He took a small sip from his drink, his eyes scanning the stands. "And if she happens to be hiding in any of your packs, name your price. I will give you whatever territory or riches you want, as long as you give me back my Fedora. Thank you all for your time."

He sat down, and the organizer in the middle of the ring quickly took over the microphone to continue the meeting, but the rest of the words blurred into background noise.

I couldn't breathe. It felt like the oxygen had been completely sucked out of the room. Sweat poured down my face, soaking into the fabric of the handkerchief. I had always known deep down that he would want me back, but I never could have imagined he would invent such a massive, elaborate lie to turn the entire werewolf world against me. Now, I wasn't just a runaway mate; I was a thief with a massive bounty on my head.

I couldn't take it anymore. Sitting there in the dark with my thoughts was suffocating me. I abruptly pushed myself up from the plush seat, pulling the handkerchief off my face but keeping my head lowered.

Michael’s hand shot out like lightning, his large, heavy fingers clamping firmly around my wrist. His brow furrowed as he stared up at me. "Where do you think you are going?" he demanded, his voice low and sharp.

"I need to use the bathroom," I choked out, my hand flying to my stomach as another wave of intense nausea rolled through me. "Right now."

Michael’s eyes darted toward the crowd, his jaw tightening. "It is far too dangerous for you to wander around alone right now," he muttered, adjusting his grip. "My personal guard will follow you to the door."

"Don't worry," I pleaded, pulling my wrist back with a desperate look in my eyes. "I will be back fast. I promise."

Without waiting for his approval, I tore myself away and rushed out of the VIP section, keeping my head down as I navigated the dim hallways. The urge to gag was overpowering. I burst through the doors of the restroom, barely making it to the row of sinks before my stomach completely flipped. I leaned over the porcelain basin and threw up, my whole body shaking violently as the physical stress and terror finally took their toll. I turned on the faucet, watching the cold water wash away the sickness, and quickly splashed some of it onto my burning face.

After wiping my mouth, I grabbed my scarf and wrapped it securely around my head and face, desperate to hide my identity from anyone passing by. I pushed the restroom door open and stepped back into the crowded corridor, moving as fast as my trembling legs could carry me. I kept my eyes glued to the floor, rushing blindly past the groups of people.

Suddenly, my shoulder slammed hard against someone else's with a sharp impact. The force of the collision stumbled me backward, and the sudden movement yanked the scarf completely off my head, letting it flutter uselessly to the floor.

Panic freezing my blood, I quickly turned around and bent down to scoop up the fabric before anyone could see my face. But as I reached for it, a pair of expensive designer shoes stepped right into my field of vision. My gaze crept upward, tracing past the sleek outfit until my eyes locked onto the cold, mocking stare of the woman standing right in front of me.

It was Veronica.