The Alpha’s Blind Luna

Pain. It was everywhere. Sharp. Burning. Endless. Lady Evelynn Vale gripped the bloodstained sheets beneath her trembling fingers as another scream tore from her throat. The sound echoed against the stone walls of the royal infirmary, swallowed almost instantly by the chaos around her. “More towels!” “She’s losing too much blood!” “Hold her down—!” “Get the wolfsbane extract now!” The room spun in blurs of white robes and silver trays. Nurses rushed back and forth so quickly that their faces melted together like ghosts beneath the flickering candlelight. Metal instruments clinked loudly against one another. Bowls filled with crimson were carried away only to return moments later even fuller. The scent of blood was suffocating. Evelynn could barely breathe. Her silver hair clung damply to her forehead as tears slid from the corners of her eyes. Her body shook violently against the operating table while unbearable agony ripped through her stomach again and again. The anesthetic wasn’t working. It was supposed to numb everything. She wasn’t supposed to feel the blade slicing into her flesh. But she did. Moon Goddess… she felt everything. Every cut. Every pull. Every horrifying second. A broken sob escaped her lips as she turned her head weakly toward the ceiling. The lights above her blurred together through her tears, becoming pale stars in a sky she could no longer hold onto. Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. Today her daughter would be born. Her little princess. The child she had prayed for beneath every full moon. The child she had already loved long before hearing her first cry. Evelynn smiled weakly despite the pain, imagining tiny fingers wrapping around hers. Tiny feet running through the gardens. Soft laughter filling the cold halls of the Vale estate. She had already imagined everything. She would braid her daughter’s hair herself. She would teach her how to read beneath the moonlight. She would protect her from the cruelty of the world no matter what it cost her. “My baby…” Evelynn whispered shakily. Another wave of pain struck so hard she cried out. One of the nurses looked panicked now. “Her heartbeat is unstable!” “We’re running out of time!” “Finish the procedure now!” Evelynn’s breathing became uneven. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Fear slowly crept into her chest like icy claws. No… No no no. This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. She was supposed to live. She was supposed to hold her daughter and watch her grow. Her fingers twitched desperately against the sheets. “Please…” she whimpered softly. “Please let my baby be safe…” The head physician leaned over her, his face tense. “Lady Evelynn, stay awake for me.” But his voice sounded far away. Everything did. The room was becoming colder. Darker. And then A cry pierced through the room. Small. Fragile. Beautiful. The entire room suddenly went silent. Evelynn’s heart stopped. “My baby…” she breathed out. For a moment nobody moved. Nobody spoke. The nurses stared at the child in stunned silence. Then whispers began. “What…?” “Her hair…” “Moon Goddess protect us…” Evelynn’s weak eyes searched desperately. “What is it?” she asked faintly. “Why is nobody speaking?” Finally, one trembling nurse stepped forward carrying the infant carefully in her arms. Evelynn’s breath caught instantly. The baby was beautiful. So beautiful it hurt. Tiny. Delicate. Wrapped in soft white cloth. But it was her hair that stole the breath from everyone in the room. Silver. Not ordinary silver. It shimmered unnaturally beneath the candlelight like strands of moonlight woven into silk. The infant continued crying softly, her tiny fists trembling. Evelynn’s eyes filled with tears immediately. “My daughter…” she whispered brokenly. The nurse hesitated before speaking carefully. “My lady…” Her voice shook. “The child… she…” She swallowed hard. “She cannot see.” The room fell silent again. Evelynn froze. Blind? Her baby was blind? A painful ache spread through her chest, but only for a second. Then it vanished beneath overwhelming love. “Oh, my poor little princess…” Evelynn whispered tearfully as the nurse carefully placed the infant into her arms. The moment Amara touched her chest, something inside Evelynn shattered completely. She had never felt something so precious. So small. So warm. The baby’s cries slowly softened as if she somehow recognized her mother already. Evelynn smiled through her tears. “Amara…” she whispered lovingly. “My Amara…” The child moved slightly, tiny fingers curling weakly against Evelynn’s gown. Then suddenly The candles flickered violently. The air in the room changed. A cold gust swept through the infirmary hard enough to make several nurses gasp. And then the baby opened her eyes. A horrified scream filled the room. One of the nurses stumbled backward so quickly she fell to the floor. “Her eyes!” “They’re silver!” “Moon Goddess save us!” Evelynn looked down weakly. The baby’s eyes were open despite being blind. Completely silver. No pupils. No color. Nothing human. An unnatural silver glow reflected within them before disappearing just as quickly. Fear exploded through the room instantly. One nurse crossed herself in terror. Another stepped backward as though the infant herself carried death. “The prophecy…” someone whispered shakily. “It can’t be…” Evelynn tightened her hold protectively around her daughter immediately despite her fading strength. “No,” she whispered fiercely. “Don’t look at her like that.” But the fear had already spread. The physician looked pale now. “There are old stories…” he murmured uneasily. “About children born beneath cursed moons…” “Stop it!” Evelynn snapped weakly, tears falling harder now. “She is just a baby!” But deep down Even she felt it. Something unnatural lingered in the air around her daughter. Not evil. Not darkness. Something older. Something powerful. Amara suddenly stopped crying completely. The newborn became strangely calm in Evelynn’s arms. Almost aware. And for the first time since the operation began, Evelynn felt true fear. Not for herself. For her daughter. Because she already knew what kind of world Amara was being born into. Cruel. Merciless. A world that destroyed anything different. A shaky breath escaped her lips as her strength slowly faded away. The bleeding wasn’t stopping. She could feel death waiting beside her now. The nurses were speaking again frantically somewhere nearby, but their voices sounded distant. Evelynn looked down at her daughter desperately, memorizing every tiny detail she could before time stole her away. “My baby…” she whispered softly. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.” The words broke painfully from her throat. “I’m sorry you cannot see me.” A sob escaped her lips. “And I’m sorry…” her voice trembled harder, “…that I won’t be there to see you grow.” The infant stirred softly in her arms. Evelynn kissed Amara’s forehead carefully. “I need you to be strong for me, okay?” she whispered. “Even when the world is cruel to you.” Her vision blurred further. She could barely breathe now. “But Mommy will always love you.” The nurse beside her started crying quietly. Evelynn slowly handed the baby back, though it looked like the hardest thing she had ever done. The moment Amara left her arms, Evelynn felt cold. Empty. Alone. Her eyes searched desperately toward the doorway as though hoping her husband would suddenly appear. But he wasn’t there. A weak smile touched her lips anyway. “Your father…” she whispered faintly toward Amara. “He’ll take care of you.” Her voice cracked. “He’ll love you enough for both of us.” The room was fading now. Darkness slowly crept into the edges of her vision. Evelynn turned her head weakly one last time toward her daughter. The tiny silver-haired infant had stopped crying completely. Silent. Watching. Almost as if she understood. “World…” Evelynn whispered shakily as tears slipped down her face. “Please be kind to my princess…” Her chest rose once. Then slowly fell. And never rose again. Silence consumed the room. One by one, the nurses lowered their heads. The physician closed his eyes solemnly. And in the middle of the cold infirmary, the cursed child began to cry again beneath the silver moonlight pouring through the windows.