Pregnant and Rejected

In safe hands

I barely felt the ground beneath me as I stumbled away from the cabin, each dragging step a blur of pain.

The betrayal twisted inside, tearing away the last shreds of strength I’d clung to. I tried to steady myself, but it felt as though my heart had been ripped in two, the ache swallowing me whole.

Then, through the trees, I glimpsed two patrolling wolves. They froze as they saw me slumped on the forest floor, their eyes widening in shock.

“Luna?” one of them said, kneeling beside me. “Are you alright? What happened?” I opened my mouth to speak, but the words dissolved before I could form them.

All I managed was a feeble shake of my head, my vision blurring. “No… I’m not…” I murmured before darkness swept over me.

---

When my eyes fluttered open again, I was back in the pack house, the familiar scent grounding me in a place of comfort.

The soft lamplight illuminated Greta’s healing room, filled with the earthy tang of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling and an array of salves and potions.

The thick scent of her concoctions—sage, lavender, and something metallic—lingered, sharp enough to pierce through the numbness clouding my mind.

Selene’s worried face hovered above me, holding a cool cloth to my head. “Amelia?” she asked softly, as if afraid of what I’d say.

“Are you… Are you alright?” My throat felt tight as I tried to sit up, but a fresh wave of pain forced me back against the pillows.

“Easy now,” Greta muttered from the corner, her gravelly voice steadying. She was stirring something bitter-smelling, her hands moving with practiced care. The whole room had this close, intense feel—herbal, earthy, and filled with tools and jars that felt as old and worn as Greta herself.

Selene looked at me with dread and disbelief. “I don’t understand. The patrol found you in the woods; you passed out. What happened?” Her voice trembled as she asked, “Where is Armand?”

I shut my eyes, the memory flooding back, twisting my stomach into knots. Armand’s face, his mocking words, the vampire’s taunting smile…

“It was Armand,” I whispered, bitterness lacing every word. “He… he’s with someone else. A vampire.”

Selene’s shock was immediate, her lips parting in disbelief. “A vampire?” She shook her head, denial mixing with confusion.

“Armand wouldn’t… be with a vampire.” But she seemed to hold back, her gaze pleading, as if needing me to say I’d been mistaken.

“I wish I were wrong, Selene. I saw them with my own eyes,” I said, my voice raw. “She was mocking me. And Armand… he said I was weak, that I could never give him what he wanted. Then… he rejected me.”

Selene’s hand flew to her mouth, her face paling. “I… I don’t understand. This doesn’t sound like him at all. Maybe… maybe it was some kind of spell or enchantment?” Her voice cracked, desperate to find an explanation.

Greta, who had been listening in silence, gave a slow, grave nod. “Dark magic can twist the heart, cloud the mind. That vampire woman… her presence I felt it in the air, even the woods seemed disturbed tonight.” She met my gaze with grim certainty. “There are those who would wield that kind of power to corrupt even the strongest of hearts.”

Selene’s expression shifted to one of horror mixed with fierce loyalty. “Then it’s not his fault,” she said urgently. “If he’s under some kind of spell, we have to do something. We can’t let him be taken like this.” She turned, calling for Marcus.

Moments later, Marcus entered, taking in the tense room with a look of concern. He moved to Selene’s side, his gaze landing on me, still weak on the bed.

“Amelia’s saying that Armand… he’s with someone else,” Selene explained, her voice shaking. “And she says it’s… it’s a vampire. But there has to be more to it, Marcus. He wouldn’t willingly be with vampire.”

Marcus’s face hardened as he looked down at me, his voice low and determined. “Tell me everything, Amelia.”

I took a deep breath, recounting the vampire, Armand’s taunting words, the way he’d seemed almost possessed. Marcus listened, his jaw clenching with each word, his eyes flashing with anger.

When I finished, he turned to Selene. “Stay here with Amelia. I’ll gather our best warriors and get Armand back before this vampire turns him.”

“Please be careful, Marcus,” Selene said, her voice trembling.

“I will,” he assured her, taking her into his arms before turning to Greta, who handed him a jar filled with a thick herbal mixture.

“Throw this at her if you need to; it should weaken the vampire,” Greta instructed, her tone serious.

Marcus gave a solemn nod, then left. Selene, visibly shaken, looked back at me with sorrow. “I’m so sorry, Amelia. You must be heartbroken.”

I nodded, though the pain in my chest was too raw to express fully. “I am. But I’m also worried about Armand. He wasn’t himself… I could see it in his eyes.”

Greta stepped forward with a mug, the bitter concoction she’d prepared nearly overwhelming in scent. “Drink this, child. It’ll ease some of the pain here,” she tapped my chest, “and here,” she pointed to my head. “And rest. You’ll need your strength for whatever comes next.”

I sipped the mixture, the warmth easing the edges of my pain as Selene placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. Her eyes were filled with fierce loyalty as she whispered, “Marcus will fix this, Amelia. He’ll bring Armand back to us, I swear it.”

I wanted to believe her, but the memory of Armand’s twisted expression lingered, haunting me. I nodded, hoping somehow she was right—that whatever darkness had taken him could still be undone.