Tell him, His Forsaken Luna is Back

SHAMARAH’S Point of view The moonlight poured through the window, but it did nothing to soothe the emptiness inside me. I sat by the bed, the darkness of the room matching the heaviness in my chest. The doctor’s words replayed in my mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. "You cannot carry a child, Luna Shamarah. Your body… it simply cannot bear one. It’s not even in your bloodline." I had wanted so badly to be wrong. To be pregnant. To feel the life inside me. But no, it wasn’t that. The dizziness, the nausea—it was stress. Stress from everything, from him. Stress from Alpha Dior. He had been so distant lately. So cold. It had been months since I’d felt his warmth, months since I’d seen the love in his eyes. All I had now was the heavy silence between us, and the cruel distance that only seemed to grow wider with each passing day. The doctor’s words echoed again. I couldn’t carry a child. I was infertile. The door creaked open, and I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Dior. His presence, always so powerful, now felt like a shadow looming over me. “What’s the doctor said? Are you really pregnant?” His voice was low, but there was something in it—something sharp, like he was trying to hold back anger or frustration, or maybe both. The question hit me like a punch in the gut, but it wasn’t a surprise. I had been hoping for this moment, but now that it was here, I wished it would disappear. I turned my face away from him, unable to meet his eyes. “No,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I’m not pregnant, Dior. I can’t carry a child. The doctor said I’m infertile.” The silence that followed was suffocating. I could feel his eyes on me, boring into my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. I couldn’t face the anger or the disappointment I was sure to find in his gaze. His next words shattered me. “What do you mean, you can’t?” His voice was rising, no longer controlled. “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” I flinched at the harshness in his tone. Why didn’t I tell him? How could I? I just found out today. “I didn’t know,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady, but failing. “I didn’t know until today. I thought maybe I was pregnant, but it’s just stress. I can’t be. I’m not capable.” His gaze darkened, and before I could even react, he was standing up, his fists clenched at his sides. The anger radiating from him was palpable, like a storm ready to tear through everything. “You’ve known all along, haven’t you?” Dior’s voice was low, tight with something that felt dangerously close to fury. “You knew this, and you let me believe—let me hope—that we could have a future. That you could give me a child. An heir.” I stared at him, the words stinging more than I could handle. His heir. That’s all I was to him now. That’s all I’d ever been. “I never wanted this to happen,” I said, my voice breaking. “I never wanted to be just a tool for the prophecy, Dior. I wanted to be your wife. I wanted to be more than this.” His face twisted in frustration, and I saw it—disgust. Not for me, maybe, but for what I could no longer give him. “You think I wanted this?” he spat, his eyes flashing with rage. “You think I wanted to find out that the woman I was bound to, the woman I was supposed to lead beside me, can’t even give me an heir? An Alpha’s mate is supposed to give him children. A Luna should bring life to the pack, not be a burden.” I recoiled, my chest tightening with the weight of his words. A burden. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, the humiliation stinging at my pride. “Then what am I supposed to do, Dior?” I choked out. “What do you want from me? I’ve tried. I’ve done everything I can—” He interrupted, his voice cold and final, like a door slamming shut. “You don’t deserve to be my Luna if you can’t give me a child.” His words sliced through me like a blade, raw and unforgiving. “I should have chosen Beta Clara as my mate. She could give me what I need. She could give me what this pack needs.” My blood ran cold. Beta Clara? My best friend. I froze. The room seemed to tilt, the walls closing in on me. Beta Clara? The one who had been by my side through everything? The woman who knew my heart, my dreams, and fears better than anyone else? His words reverberated in my head, and my heart plummeted. She could give me what I need. My best friend. She could give him an heir. My mind raced in a haze of betrayal and hurt. How long had he been thinking this? How long had he considered her as his true mate? Was I nothing more than a convenient tool for his prophecy? I wanted to speak, to shout at him, but I couldn’t find my voice. I was shaking, trying to keep my composure as the world I thought I knew shattered around me. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Dior’s gaze was cold, hard, and unwavering as he looked at me. “It’s not about you, Shamarah. It’s about the future of the pack. The prophecy. And you can’t give me what I need.” I could barely breathe, the reality of his words weighing me down. But then, in that moment of crushing clarity, he said it. The one thing I had never imagined he would say. “I want a divorce, Shamarah,” Dior said, his voice like ice. “And I want you to step down as my Luna.” The room spun. Divorce. Step down as his Luna.