Kelly
“You look like you just saw a ghost. Relax, Kelly.” Bryan suddenly laughed, trying to play it off as a joke. As if he hadn't just threatened to murder me. My skin crawled. I wanted to spit in his smug face, but before I could muster the courage, the sharp trill of the iPad on the nightstand broke through the air.
The ringing startled me so much that I jolted. It was the last sound I expected to hear and it didn't do any good for the fear Bryan's words had already inflicted.
Bryan walked over to pick it up, his gait casual, as though nothing in the world could touch him. Something in me stirred with dread but I followed him.
I regretted it instantly.
On the glowing screen, I saw the name flashing: Father. A video call. It was probably both my parents. My heart started beating wildly. I was already having a horrible day, they would only make it worse.
Before I could say a word, before I could beg him not to, Bryan answered.
And suddenly, the room filled with voices that could still reduce me to nothing.
My father, Theodore Redmond, the former Alpha of the Pack, spoke jovially as if he were greeting a favored son. His deep voice rolled through the speaker, warm for Bryan, coldly blind to me.
“Bryan, my boy! How are you holding up? How’s the Pack? I hope you're catering to the people while still keeping everyone in line.”
I stood a few feet away, invisible as always. My father’s eyes slid past me as if I were a servant standing in the shadows.
“Yes, sir,” Bryan answered with practiced smoothness. “The Pack is thriving under my leadership. The warriors are disciplined, the borders secure, and the trade agreements you set in place are still yielding results.”
“That’s good, very good.” Theodore chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I knew you were the right man for the job. You’ve got a steady head on your shoulders.”
Not a single word for me. Not a glance, not even the courtesy of acknowledgment.
I should be used to this kind of treatment by now, but it still stung like fresh claws down my back. My chest burned. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, holding back the ache that screamed to be let out.
Then my mother’s sharp, familiar voice cut through the air. Miranda leaned forward on the screen, her eyes narrowing. “Bryan, give the phone to her.”
The words made a chill rip down my spine. My throat dried instantly, my fingers trembling. I didn’t want this. Goddess, not this.
Bryan turned the device so the camera caught me. I forced myself into view. My reflection in the corner of the screen was pale, my eyes red-rimmed from earlier tears. I looked like prey cornered in its own home.
The first thing Miranda said was: “Are you pregnant yet?”
The words landed so hard I swayed. It was to be expected. Of course it was. I wasn’t their daughter. I was only ever a womb. A defective, barren womb.
I forced the word out, small and brittle: “No.”
Her face twisted, and then the fire began.
Miranda spat venom with every syllable. “Of course not. Useless girl. Five years married and not a single child to show for it. You’ve failed at the most basic duty of a woman.”
Theodore shook his head, his disappointment like thunder. “Your mother’s right. When will you stop shaming us? Do you think the Pack doesn’t talk? Every day they laugh at us because our own bloodline is rotting in your empty womb.”
My chest caved inward, but it didn’t stop.
Miranda leaned closer, relentless. “Tetra would never have disgraced us this way. That girl was born to be a Luna. She’d have given us strong heirs by now. She’d have done it all while commanding respect, while bringing honor to this family. You’ve brought nothing but shame.”
As if summoned by cruelty itself, my cousin, Darren’s smug face appeared behind them. His voice dripped with mockery. “Tetra would’ve given Bryan two, maybe three children by now. And not just that, she would’ve advanced the Pack. But you? You ruined everything. Our family's gift is wasted on you. Instead of healing and revolutionizing medicine, you killed a child with it. Maybe that’s why your womb is barren—cursed by the blood of the innocent life you stole.”
My heart stopped. I wanted to scream that it was Tetra, that it had always been her. But the words stuck.
Bryan, still wearing his mask of the good husband, spoke smoothly, “Don’t be too hard on her, Darren. Kelly has started a new fertility treatment. I have faith it’ll work this time.”
Darren laughed bitterly, but Miranda’s derision was sharper. She snickered, her lip curling. “What even is the point? There’s no treatment that can cure barrenness.”