chapter 3
1295 Words
“Luna Rhea—what are you doing?!”
The healer’s horrified shriek shattered the suffocating tension in the room, violently ripping me out of my dark trance. My hand jerked back.
In that exact second, the tiny bundle in my arms let out a weak, desperate cry. I looked down. The terrifying silhouette of the monster from my past life dissolved into the shadows, leaving behind nothing but a starving, freezing baby.
I drew a harsh line in my chest, burying my hatred deep beneath my ribs. My trembling hands adjusted his small frame, pulling him flush against my milk-soaked shift. He latched immediately. Almost instantly, the terrifying blue hue began to fade from his lips, replaced by a flush of warm, living pink.
He was breathing. He was going to live.
Before I could even process the relief, a rough hand seized my shoulder and violently wrenched me backward. I hit the stone floor hard, instinctively curling my body to protect the feeding pup in my arms.
"Get him away from her!" Selene screamed, pointing a trembling finger at me. Tears streamed down her perfect face, her voice completely hysterical. "Did you see her?! She was hovering her hand over his mouth! She was trying to smother him!"
Cassius’s eyes turned entirely black. The killing intent radiating from him was so thick it was hard to breathe. "You sick, twisted b***h," he snarled, his voice a guttural vibration. "You tried to murder my heir."
I didn't defend myself. I didn't scream, and I didn't beg. I just looked up at them, pulling my son tighter against my chest as he continued to nurse. They were taking the situation and twisting it into a brand. It gave Cassius the perfect justification to lock me away.
"Take the boy," Cassius ordered the head nurse, his voice trembling with rage. "The second he is finished feeding, get him out of her hands."
He looked down at me with absolute revulsion. "You are to be moved to the lowest room in the servants' wing. You will pump your milk into bottles. If you step foot anywhere near this nursery, I will let the border guards tear you apart."
I lowered my head, hiding the cold calculation in my eyes. "Yes, Alpha."
I was dragged to a room in the servants' quarters. For hours, I sat alone on a thin cot, my body aching from the birth and the bruises.
Late that night, my door clicked open.
I tensed, expecting a guard. Instead, a young man slipped inside, carefully closing the door behind him. It was Mark, the healer who had screamed in the nursery. he carried a wooden tray covered with a cloth.
He set it on the small table. Fresh roasted meat, warm bread, and a pitcher of clean water. Not the rotten scraps reserved for prisoners.
"Eat," Mark whispered, keeping his eyes on the floor. "You need your strength to keep your milk supply up."
I stared at him, my gray-green eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why are you doing this? You were the one who shouted. You gave Selene exactly what she wanted."
Silas finally looked up, his expression tight with a mixture of fear and quiet resolve. "I shouted because you scared me, Luna. But… I saw your eyes. You weren't looking at a baby. You were fighting some kind of demon only you could see. And when you finally snapped out of it, you chose to save him. I saw you pull him close."
He took a step back toward the door, pulling his cloak tight. "Cassius and Selene only see what they want to see. But I know you didn't try to kill him. Be careful, Luna. Selene is already spreading whispers that you are cursed. Don't eat anything she sends you."
With that, he slipped back out into the corridor.
I looked at the warm food, a slow, dangerous smile touching my lips. I had lived twenty-two years thinking I was entirely alone. But now, I had a silent pair of eyes in the infirmary. I had a piece on the board.
Three days later, the gates of Blackridge opened to the outside world for the baby baptism.
The courtyard was a chaotic sea of rich fabrics, exotic gifts, and the heavy, competing scents of a dozen different Alpha wolves. Demoted to the lowest rank of Omega, I was dressed in a drab, oversized gray tunic and put on cleaning duty. I stayed on my knees in the outer courtyard, scrubbing the cobblestones, waiting for the perfect moment to slip into a departing car.
Around midday, a heavy, suffocating silence fell over the massive courtyard.
The chatter, the laughter, the boasting of the visiting Alphas simply ceased, as if the air had been violently sucked from the space.
A royal car rolled through the gates.The car featured a royal crest of the Lycan King on the front.
Instantly, every Omega, servant, and guard in the courtyard dropped to the ground, pressing their foreheads flat against the cold stone.
Cassius stepped forward, his voice tight with nervous, rehearsed respect. "Welcome to Blackridge, Your Majesty. We are deeply honored by—"
"King Alaric!" a booming, overly eager voice interrupted.
I glanced up from beneath my lashes. Alpha Torin. A pathetic pack leader trying to suck up to the crown.
There was the soft, almost imperceptible whisper of steel leaving a scabbard.
It was followed by a wet, sickening thud.
Alpha Torin’s severed head rolled across the cobblestones, coming to a stop just a few feet from where I was scrubbing. A puddle of dark crimson began to pool rapidly. Several women screamed, hastily biting their hands to muffle the sound.
Then, the Lycan King stepped down from the car.
The moment his boots hit the earth, he released his aura. It wasn't a warning; it was a crushing weight. The air turned freezing cold. The Alpha command slammed into the courtyard like a tidal wave.
Around me, hundreds of wolves flattened themselves completely against the dirt, whimpering in absolute terror, their instincts screaming at them to submit.
I felt the crushing weight hit my shoulders. I prepared to press my forehead to the stone, to blend in with the terrified masses.
But my body refused.
Deep inside my blood suppressed energy I hadn't felt in two lifetimes violently snapped awake. It didn't cower from the Lycan King’s aura.
My spine locked. My shoulders pulled back.
While every single wolf in the Blackridge courtyard groveled with their faces in the dirt, I remained kneeling upright. My head was held high with eyes down, my posture straight, a solitary, defiant pillar in a sea of cowering bodies.
I breathed in the scent of pine, frost, and fresh blood. I wasn't afraid.
The rhythmic, heavy thud of boots echoed across the silent stone.
He was walking down the line. I saw his dark boots enter my peripheral vision, stepping over Torin's blood. The King's aura swirled around me, heavy and suffocating, probing at the strange inside my chest.
The boots stopped right in front of me.
The silence in the courtyard was absolute. No one dared to breathe. For five agonizing seconds, the deadliest man on the continent simply stood over me, staring at the only woman in the territory who hadn't bowed to his power.
Then, a voice—low, gravelly, and vibrating with a power—dropped down from above me.
"You. Look up."
- Writer
