007
979 Words
The Ultrasound in my Head
~VINA HALE~
Is it possible to be allergic to your ex-boyfriend’s laundry? Because every time I pick up one of Jace’s discarded training shirts, I want to hurl my internal organs into the bleach bucket.
It’s been three days since "The Great Rejection." I am currently the official CEO of the Silver Moon Laundry Department (population: me).
My hands are pruned, my back is screaming, and I’m pretty sure the mildew in this basement is starting to develop its own religion.
But something is… off.
Usually, when a wolf gets rejected, they wither away. They stop eating. They look like they’ve been through a dehydrator. And yeah, I’m miserable. I’m heartbroken. I’ve spent more time crying into Alpha-sized boxers than I care to admit.
But I’m not withering. In fact, I’m starving. I just ate a piece of crusty bread I found behind a radiator, and it was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.
I sat down on a pile of towels, placing my hand over my stomach. The "void" Jace left behind is still there—a cold, jagged hole in my soul.
But beneath it? Thump-thump.
I froze. I held my breath.
Thump-thump. ...Thump-THUMP.
It wasn't a heartbeat. It was a drum circle.
My eyes went wide. In the werewolf world, we don’t need ultrasound machines. We have "The Pulse." It’s how Lunas know they’re carrying the next Alpha. But this pulse? It wasn't normal.
One beat was fast and bright, like a flickering candle. It felt like a wolf. A strong one.
But the other? The other beat was slow. Heavy. It felt like the ground shaking before an earthquake. It didn't feel like a wolf at all.
It felt like something…older. Something that belonged in the legends my grandmother used to whisper about.
The Lycan King.
The original shifters who predated our packs by a thousand years.
I thought the joke was that I was pregnant by a guy who hates me. But you actually went and doubled the order?
Twins.
I’m carrying twins. One wolf, and one…something else.
I stared at the wet stone wall, a cold shiver running down my spine. If Alpha Magnus finds out I’m carrying Jace’s heirs—especially heirs with this kind of power—he won't just reject me.
He’ll lock me in a cage and harvest them like crops. Or worse, he’ll realize they outrank him and end us all before the first diaper change.
I feel panicked. Nauseous. And officially carrying a secret that is definitely going to get me killed if I don't get out of this basement.
*****************
Currently squished into a ventilation duct that smells like 1950s dust and regret. 1/10 stars. Would not recommend as a spa treatment.
I knew I had to leave, but I needed to know the "when" and the "how." And the best place to find out the pack’s "How to Kill Vina" plan was Alpha Magnus’s office.
Being "Rankless" has one perk: people forget you’re there. I’m like a piece of furniture that occasionally cleans things.
I had spent years memorizing the maintenance tunnels and vents of the packhouse—mostly so I could avoid Sarah’s "accidental" tripping hazards.
I pressed my ear against the iron grate above Magnus’s desk.
Below me, the air was thick with the scent of expensive bourbon and bloodlust.
"The wedding is in two weeks, Magnus," a voice growled. It was Enforcer Kael—a man whose idea of a fun Saturday is breaking the ribs of teenagers.
"The pack is still whispering about the bond. They saw the gold light. They know Jace rejected a True Mate."
"Let them whisper," Magnus’s voice was like gravel being crushed. "Once Sarah is Luna, her father’s warriors will bolster our borders. The bond will be a footnote in history."
"And the girl?" Kael asked. "She’s still in the Warrens. Jace has been… quiet. He hasn't visited her, but he hasn't asked about her, either. He’s grieving, even if he won’t admit it."
"Jace is a Blackwood," Magnus snapped. "He will get over it. But I can't have him slipping down to the basement in a moment of weakness. If he sees her, if he smells her jasmine again, he might lose his resolve."
I gripped the sides of the vent, my knuckles turning white.
"Dispose of her tonight," Magnus said, as casually as if he were ordering a pizza. "Make it look like the rejection was too much. A 'suicide' of a broken-hearted Omega. It’s poetic, really. Clean it up before the sun rises. I want her scent erased from this house."
"Consider it done," Kael replied.
I didn't wait to hear the rest.
I backed out of the vent as fast as I could, my heart trying to beat its way out of my throat.
Note to Jace: 'Your dad is a psycho. Just thought you should know.'
I dropped down into the laundry room, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I had six hours. Six hours before Kael came to my cell to "help me" end my life.
I looked at the pile of Jace’s shirts.
For a second, I wanted to cry. I wanted to run to him, to tell him about the twins, to beg him to protect us.
But then I remembered the ice in his eyes on the dais. I remembered the way he held Sarah’s hand.
He wouldn't save me. He’d probably thank his father for taking care of the "mistake."
I grabbed an old rucksack and started stuffing it with whatever I could find: a hunk of dried meat, a map of the border, and a silver paring knife from the kitchen.
I was Officially an outlaw.
And my plan was simple, 'run into the Forbidden Forest. Because honestly? The man-eating trees
sound a lot friendlier than my family right now.'
- Writer
