The Alpha Surrogate Luna

The Edge Of Despair

Gloria’s POV

I sat in the cold, thick mud for a very long time, holding Nana’s limp body close to my chest, but no matter how loud I screamed into the empty darkness, nobody came to help us. The rain kept falling in relentless waves, washing away the dirt from her pale cheeks while I rocked her back and forth on the empty road. The palace guard at the gates had simply turned his back on my cries, staring straight ahead as if two banished women dying in the dirt were nothing more than background noise.

Three weeks in the fog-drenched border town felt like living through an endless nightmare. Burying Nana alone in a forgotten graveyard on the edge of the woods had left me completely hollow, with no money, no title, and a mountain of lingering debts left behind by my family's sudden ruin. I had been forced to hand over the very last silver coin from my pocket just to buy a crude, unmarked wooden marker for her small grave. It left me standing in the mud with empty pockets, torn shoes, and a hollow ache inside my stomach that never truly went away.

Every single morning was a brutal battle against hopeless despair as I walked the muddy streets looking for work, but every noble house shut its doors the moment they recognized my disgraced Sorensen name. The merchants were no better. Word of my family's downfall had traveled faster than the river currents, turning my name into a disease that everyone avoided.

"Get off my property, girl!" a fat merchant had barked at me earlier that morning, aggressively waving a stiff wooden broom directly at my face as I stood on his shop steps. "We do not hire traitors, criminals, or banished scum in this district! Get lost!"

"I am not asking for charity, master," I told him, keeping my head held high despite the dull, throbbing ache in my back from sleeping on a thin straw mattress. "I am asking for honest work. I can balance your financial ledgers, clean your stone floors, or carry heavy wooden crates from the docks."

"I said move along before I lose my temper!" he yelled, stepping closer and spitting on the damp cobblestone right near the toes of my worn boots. "If Lord Julian finds out that I gave a Sorensen a single copper piece, he will send his enforcers to shut my entire shop down before nightfall! Now get out!"

That was exactly how every single conversation went across the entire lower district. Julian had made sure his toxic influence reached all the way to the borderland markets, turning my family name into a dark curse that made everyday people turn their backs on me in fear or disgust.

Walking down a dim alleyway toward my small rented room late at night, absolute exhaustion dragged down my body while my mind raced to find any possible way to survive another week. My stomach growled loudly in the quiet night, twisting with sharp, painful hunger pangs, but I squeezed my eyes tightly shut for a second and kept my feet moving forward through the heavy darkness.

"Look who we have here," a deep, raspy voice suddenly called out from the shadows ahead of me.

I froze in my tracks, my fingers tightening into firm fists inside the pockets of my thin coat. Two rogue debt collectors stepped out from the darkness, blocking my path with dangerous sneers as they demanded payment for my father's old military contracts. The taller one had a jagged scar running down his left cheek, while the shorter one tossed a heavy iron knuckleduster from hand to hand, making a dull metallic clinking sound.

"You are walking in the wrong neighborhood, little noble," the scarred man sneered, taking a slow, deliberate step toward me. "Your late father owed our master three hundred gold coins for weapon shipments that were delivered to the border three years ago."

"My father died two years ago," I said, taking a cautious step backward as my heart began to hammer violently against my ribs. "And those old military contracts were completely settled by the High Council before our estate was unlawfully seized by the court."

"The Council took your family's land and gold, but they did not pay us a single copper," the shorter man laughed, sliding his iron knuckleduster over his thick fingers with a grim satisfaction. "And since your dear old guardian is dead and rotting in the dirt, that leaves you alone to settle the family bill."

"I do not have three hundred gold coins," I told them, keeping my voice firm and steady even though my throat felt completely dry. "I do not even have three small copper pieces to buy a stale piece of bread for dinner."

"Well now, that sounds like a serious personal problem, girl," the scarred rogue grunted, drawing a short, rusty iron dagger from his leather belt with a soft scraping sound. "If you cannot pay us with shiny gold coins, we can easily take you down to the illegal slave rings in the lower district. A pretty face like yours will fetch a very decent price from the local buyers."

My pulse raced wildly and my hands shook as I backed away into a dead end, realizing I had no weapons, no guard, and nowhere left to run. Cold, damp brick pressed hard against my spine, trapping me in the narrow passage with high stone walls, no side doors, and zero escape routes.

"Stay away from me," I warned, lifting my chin and setting my jaw in absolute defiance despite the terror surging through my veins. "I might not have a sword, but I will fight you with my bare nails before I let either of you lay a single hand on me."

"She actually thinks she can fight us, Jax," the shorter one cackled, taking another step closer to block my left side completely. "Grab her arms before she starts making a loud scene for the night patrol."

The scarred man lunged forward suddenly, reaching out with a dirty, broad hand to grab a handful of my hair. I ducked beneath his swinging arm, throwing a hard, frantic punch directly at his stomach, but he barely flinched under his thick leather vest. He grabbed my left wrist with an iron grip, twisting my arm roughly behind my back until a sharp, blinding pain shot straight up to my shoulder.

"Let go of me!" I screamed, kicking hard against his shin with all the physical force left in my exhausted legs.

He grunted in annoyance, shoving my body hard against the rough brick wall until the remaining breath exploded out of my lungs in a sharp gasp. The shorter rogue stepped up immediately, grabbing my other arm and pinning me firmly against the stone while the scarred man raised his heavy fist in the air.

"Keep your mouth quiet if you want to keep your front teeth, little noble," the scarred man growled, leaning his sour-smelling face right next to mine so I could feel his hot breath on my cheek.

I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted copper, stubbornly refusing to cry out or beg them for mercy as I stared back into his eyes with pure, burning hatred.

Suddenly, the deep, heavy engine of a black luxury car cut through the quiet fog.