Chapter-3
703 Words
Lily
I didn't run. I simply walked. Each step was deliberate, carrying me away from the bedroom door, away from the screaming springs and the sick, sweet stench of his betrayal. But the scene—the sight of him, the sound of her—was etched onto the inside of my eyelids. Every word he had spoken played on a cold, relentless loop in my mind: ...I made damn sure of it... contraceptives... Lily was just packaging...
I was a ghost of a Luna, a puppet queen in a gilded cage. The consuming fury of the revelation kept me moving even if it felt like heavy stones were tied to my legs. The sound of Rowan’s voice—sharp, panicked—sliced through my daze almost immediately.
"Lily! Stop! Stop right now!"
I ignored him. I didn't quicken my pace, but I did not stop.
He covered the distance between us in two quick strides, his sheer Alpha strength propelling him. He grabbed my arm, his grip hard enough to bruise. I flinched, not from pain, but from the unbearable disgust from his touch.
"Let go," I said, my voice barely a whisper, yet vibrating with an icy finality that cut through the air.
Rowan immediately loosened his grip, his Alpha pride warring with his rising panic. He didn't look remorseful; he looked frantic, desperately trying to put the pieces of his shattered image back together.
"Lily, listen to me," he spoke rapidly, his words running together. "You don't understand the politics involved! This was never about us. It was about the pack—my father's legacy! This was a complicated, necessary agreement! I had no choice!"
I stood there, motionless. His excuses, his insistence that his deception was a "necessity," only made the betrayal sharper. He wasn't apologizing for hurting me; he was demanding that I forgive him for the sake of his reputation.
"It was necessary for my Alpha position," he insisted, stepping closer, trying to use his height and voice to dominate me. "You can't just throw away everything I gave you over a... a complication! Just come back inside. We can talk, and I will explain everything later!"
I said nothing. My silence was cold and impenetrable, a solid wall he could not breach. His frantic eyes searched mine, trying to find the pliable, obedient Luna he had easily controlled for years. When he found only the vacant, chilling emptiness of my withdrawal, his composure finally broke. He threw his hands up in frustrated helplessness as I simply turned and continued walking.
I walked until the familiar pack houses began to thin, giving way to the sprawling, dark forests at the outer edge of Duskmoon territory. The numbness that had carried me this far slowly settled into something heavier—a heavy grief for the life I had mourned and the child I had been denied.
My pace finally slowed. I placed a shaky hand over my still-flat stomach, remembering the gentle, relentless thrum of my baby’s heartbeat from the clinic. That tiny, impossible sound—the single pure, unexpected truth in my life—anchored me. I knew, with a terrible certainty, that I could not stay here. Every moment spent in this pack, under his roof, under his rules, was a lie. I could not raise my child here. Not when I could barely afford to look at him.
With trembling fingers, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a simple, unadorned business card. I had dismissed it then, when the strange, old man had called me by a name I had never heard and handed me this at the Luna ball I was made to attend last month. I had almost thrown it away, but something made me keep it nevertheless.
Now, I clung to it as if it were the only lifeline left in the world. I dialed the number, my breath catching in my throat. The call connected.
For a moment, I couldn't speak. My "hello" came out barely above a whisper.
There was a pause at the other end. Then his voice came through. It was soft, relieved, and almost impossibly gentle.
“I was hoping you would call, child.”
- Writer
