SOPHIA'S POV

THREE DAYS LATER

I stood before the bathroom sink, staring at three pregnancy tests.

Two lines. Two lines. Two lines.

Each one clearly displayed the same result.

Pregnant.

I was actually pregnant.

My trembling fingers picked up the first stick, then the second, then the third. I checked them over and over, hoping I was mistaken, but reality offered no escape.

How could this be? I had just resolved to leave, hadn't even begun to make arrangements, and fate played this cruel joke.

What was I supposed to do?

This child shouldn't exist. Not now. Not at the very moment I decided to escape.

My hand drifted to my lower abdomen. It was still flat, but I knew a new life was quietly taking root. If it was a son, I'd be forced to stay, only to die in some "unfortunate accident" after childbirth, clearing the way for Tiffany to take over.

If it was a daughter, I'd become a laughingstock once more-the failure who "produced two useless girls in a row."

Either way, this child would be my cage.

"Sophia!"

Helen's shrill voice cut through the door.

I snapped back to the present, frantically shoving all three tests into my coat pocket. My heart hammered against my ribs, my palms were slick with cold sweat.

Bang!

The door was thrown open violently.

Helen stormed in like a hurricane, the head housekeeper and two maids trailing behind her. Her face was alight with impatience, her eyes gleaming with a sick excitement.

"Well?"

Everyone knew this was the time of the month for the test.

The housekeeper knew. The maids knew. The cook probably knew. Even the pack's young pups likely knew.

My cycle, my ovulation, my fertile window-these intimate details were public knowledge within the pack. No one had ever considered my privacy. Not even my past self.

I took a deep breath, steadying my voice. "I-"

Before my prepared excuse could leave my lips, she shoved me aside and marched straight to the sink, snatching up the test strip I'd left there. She held it close to her eyes.

The next second-

Smack!

"Nothing again?!" She hurled the stick onto the marble floor, where it shattered into pieces.

"What good are you?!"

I watched her rage in silence.

"Do you think silence is enough? Ten years! A full decade!" Helen's voice climbed higher, sharper. "What have you brought this family besides one useless girl? Do you know what the pack says about you?"

"No, but I'm sure you're eager to tell me," I replied calmly.

Helen faltered, clearly taken aback by my response.

"They say you're barren," she spat venomously. "That you're a curse. That because of you, Damien's authority is undermined! He should have rejected you from the start! He should have married Tiffany!"

"Then perhaps they're right," I said, lifting my head to meet her gaze.

The air in the room froze.

"What?" Helen's voice became a shriek.

"I said, perhaps they're right. Perhaps I am a curse," I repeated, each word deliberate. I took two steps forward, my face shadowed. "So, it's best you don't provoke me. Or you'll learn the consequences."

The two maids gasped in horror. The housekeeper's face paled. Helen's face flushed crimson. She pointed a trembling finger at me, speechless with rage.

"You... you..."

Ignoring her stammering, I continued, "And I know you prefer Tiffany. Damien loves her more. I'll be leaving soon. Let her bear your heir."

"That is your duty! Not hers!" Helen roared. "The Moon Goddess matched you with Damien! It is your obligation to bear his children! You will keep bearing them until you produce a son!"

"The Moon Goddess?" I laughed, the sound dripping with bitterness. "The Moon Goddess commands me to breed but grants me no real marriage? Makes me Luna but denies me basic respect? What kind of deity is that?"

"Silence! How dare you blaspheme!"

Crack!

A sharp slap landed across my face.

Pain exploded from my cheek. My head snapped to the side, ears ringing. I could even taste blood in the corner of my mouth.

"You ungrateful wretch!" Helen's voice shook. "It was my son who gave you the title of Luna! Who gave you status and wealth! And you dare complain!"

Slowly, I turned my head back, running my tongue over the cut on my lip.

Ten years. How many times had I been struck in these ten years? I'd lost count.

Every single time, I'd bowed my head, apologized, endured, told myself everything would be fine once I produced an heir. But not this time. I wouldn't endure it anymore.

I raised my hand.

This time, I would fight back.

"Sophia!"

A hand shot out and clamped around my wrist, the grip so tight it hurt.

Damien stood there, having appeared out of nowhere. His Alpha presence instantly dominated the room.

Everyone bowed their heads, holding their breath.

If this were the old me, I would have done the same. But the me now no longer cared.

"Let go of me," I said coldly.

"Have you lost your mind?" Damien stared at me, his gaze icy. "Raising a hand against Mother?"

"She hit me first!" I pointed to my swollen cheek. "Are you blind?"

Damien's eyes flickered over my face, lingering on the vivid handprint for less than a second before moving away.

"You disrespected her first," he stated flatly.

I froze.

That sentence proved it. He had seen Helen strike me. And he didn't care.

"Apologize to Mother," he commanded.

"Why should I?"

"Because she is an elder. The former Luna," Damien's tone was one of simple fact. "You will show respect."

"And what about me?" I heard my voice tremble. "I am the current Luna. Who respects me?"

Damien frowned, as if the question were absurd.

"Sophia, don't be difficult."

He released my wrist. His gaze dropped to the shattered pregnancy test on the floor.

A flicker of disappointment and disgust passed through his eyes. The look one gives a defective product, a failed investment. But he said nothing.

He stepped past me toward the housekeeper standing by the door. He took an insulated food carrier from him.

"Is it ready?"

"Yes, Alpha," the housekeeper replied respectfully. "All Miss Tiffany's favorite French dishes."

So that was it. That was why he'd come back.

Not for the test results. Not even for pack business.

He'd returned to fetch Tiffany's favorite meal.

If Helen didn't also favor this chef's cooking, and a replacement couldn't be found, I had no doubt Damien would have taken our personal chef with him, just so Tiffany could have the finest food every day.

I stood there, watching him carefully cradle the carrier, a trace of softness even touching his lips.

How long had it been since I'd seen that softness?

Five years? Ten?

I couldn't even remember.

"Damien..." Helen began.

"Mother, I must go. Tiffany is waiting," Damien cut her off, turning to leave.

"Damien," I called out.

He turned back impatiently. "What now?"

"We should sever the bond. I want a divorce."

When I said it, everything felt calmer than I'd imagined.

The air in the room solidified.

The housekeeper stood rigid. The two maids gasped into their hands. Helen's face drained of color.

Damien turned fully, his eyes fixed on me. There was no shock in his gaze, only annoyance.

"A new game? I don't have time for this," he said, as if dealing with a minor nuisance. "Tiffany is hungry. She's waiting for me."

And with that, he actually left.

His footsteps faded down the hall, followed by the sound of the door opening, closing, and a car engine starting.

He was gone.

I asked for a divorce, and he said, "Tiffany is hungry."

Our ten-year marriage weighed less than one of Tiffany's meals.

I stood rooted to the spot, and suddenly, I began to laugh.

The sound echoed in the silent room, bordering on hysterical.

"Have you gone mad?" Helen stared at me. "What are you laughing at?"

"I'm laughing at my own stupidity," I said, wiping nonexistent tears from the corner of my eye. "Ten years' worth of stupidity."

I turned and walked toward the door.

"You stop right there!" Helen shouted after me. "I did not dismiss you!"

But I didn't stop.

I couldn't stand another second in that room. I couldn't bear to see Helen's contorted face, or breathe that suffocating air any longer.

I was leaving.

No longer waiting for Damien's permission. No longer heeding Helen's commands. No longer bound by pack law.

I would take Ashley. I would take the child in my womb. And I would leave this place forever.

I pushed open the door to the study.

This was where Damien handled pack affairs, typically heavily guarded, but now it stood empty. He'd been in such a hurry to reach Tiffany that he hadn't even locked it.

I walked straight to his desk and pulled open a drawer.

Our marriage certificate, asset portfolios, pack accounting ledgers-all meticulously filed and organized. Damien was always thorough, precise.

I took out the documents I needed and spread them on the desk. Then I turned on the computer and began drafting the divorce petition.

Assets. Custody. Terms.

I listed them one by one, each clause born from a decade of humiliation and quiet fury.

Finally, at the end, I added one more line:

[This agreement shall take effect immediately upon signing. No revocation permitted.]

With the final word typed, I took a deep breath and hit print.

The printer hummed softly, spitting out page after page. I gathered them, collated the documents, and slid them into a folder.

Now, I needed to find Ashley.

My daughter. The daughter I hadn't seen for so long.

It had been three months since Damien moved her to his private residence. He said the environment there was better for nurturing a future Alpha female, that my quarters were too oppressive, that I would hinder her growth.But I knew the real reason. He wanted to keep Ashley away from me. To give Tiffany more chances to get close, to replace me in my daughter's heart.

I tucked the folder under my arm, stood up, and took one last look around the room.

This room I was never permitted to enter. This room that symbolized Damien's power and status. This room that once filled me with awe.

Now, I only felt the urgent need to leave.

I was going to see my daughter. To tell her we were leaving.

We were starting a new life.

SOPHIA'S POV

I left the main house.

My wolf stirred restlessly in my chest, but my steps were firm. I refused to look back at that cold, imposing structure.

When I arrived at Damien's private residence-Ashley's current home-and stepped inside, her scent enveloped me immediately. A hint of milk and lavender, the shampoo I used to choose for her.

I hurried upstairs and pushed open her bedroom door.

She was sitting at her craft table, drawing. She looked up at the sound.

"Ashley!"

I rushed to her, pulling her into my arms. My daughter. The child I nearly died to bring into this world. I couldn't help but press a flurry of kisses to her cheek. Her scent was the only pure thing left in my life. I had missed her so much.

"Mom, that's gross." She wrinkled her little nose, wiping her cheek.

I smiled, though the comment stung. "I'm sorry, baby. I've just missed you so much."

She just shrugged, as if my longing were unnecessary, as if the months apart meant nothing.

My wolf whimpered low inside-a pup should crave her mother's scent, her warmth, her closeness. But Ashley simply sat back down and resumed sorting her crayons.

"How have you been?" I sat beside her. "Did you sleep well last night? Are you eating enough? You-"

"Mom." She cut me off, not even looking up. "I want to go to East Street Preschool. Aunt Tiffany says it's the best."

The words hit me like a physical blow.

Aunt Tiffany.

She said it so casually, so familiarly, as if... as if that woman were the one closest to her.

"If you want to go, I'll enroll you," I said, forcing a smile.

Ashley nodded, but showed no excitement. She didn't even smile at me.

I took a deep breath, choosing my next words carefully.

"Sweetheart... Mom was thinking... would you like to move back and live with me?"

I couldn't bring myself to be direct yet, not ready to tell her we were leaving this place for good.

She finally looked up at me, confusion in her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because..." My voice trembled. "Because I miss you. I want to see you every day. I want to read you bedtime stories, have breakfast with you..."

"But Aunt Tiffany reads to me," Ashley said. "Her stories are way better than yours."

Each word was a knife, precise and cruel.

"And," she continued, a hint of disdain in her tone, "you're always crying and sad when you come. Aunt Tiffany says it's because you're not well."

"Ashley..."

"Aunt Tiffany never cries," she interrupted. "She's strong. She says I have to be strong too, not weak like you."

Every syllable was a laceration. My wolf flinched violently, a growl rumbling deep in my consciousness. Tiffany had been poisoning my child, twisting her perception of me.

"Baby, that's not true," I said, struggling to keep my voice even. "Mom isn't weak. Mom is just..."

"Aunt Tiffany says you're afraid to have babies, that's why you won't give me a brother." Ashley's gaze turned cold. "She says you're selfish."

I froze.

"I'm not afraid." My voice shook. "Ashley, when I had you, I almost died. But I never regretted it for a second. I-"

"Aunt Tiffany says that's because you're fragile," Ashley cut in again. "But she says she's strong. She can give Dad a brother. She says if Dad marries her, I could have a brother."

My hands clenched into fists.

"Ashley, listen to me-"

Her smartwatch lit up. Tiffany's name flashed on the screen. Her eyes immediately brightened with an excitement I had never seen directed at me.

"It's Aunt Tiffany!" she cheered.

I reached for the watch. "Ashley, we're not finished talking-"

"It's important!" She clutched the watch to her chest, looking at me with a hostility that was almost alien.

I recoiled.

That look, that posture... as if I were a stranger trying to hurt her.

"Fine," I forced myself to stand. "You have five minutes."

I walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. Leaning against the hallway wall, I took deep breaths, trying to calm the storm inside me. But the pregnancy had heightened my hearing. My wolf senses, already sharp, were now nearly uncontrollable. Even through the door, I could hear Ashley's voice with perfect clarity.

"Aunt Tiffany, I miss you so much..."

My breath hitched.

"I want to hear the bedtime story you tell..."

"I like your hugs better..."

"Mommy said she might have a baby. But Aunt Tiffany, I don't want Mommy to have one. She said it hurts. You should have the baby instead, okay?"

My wolf convulsed as if kicked in the ribs. A hand flew to my mouth. I slid down the wall, sinking to my knees on the floor. Tears welled up, too fast to stop.

Ashley saw Tiffany as her mother.

Not me. Not the one who carried her for nine months, fought for her, nearly died for her.

Tiffany had taken my husband. Now she was taking my child.

My fingers pressed hard against my lower abdomen. The wolf within me whimpered, sharing my grief.

A suffocating feeling rose. I pushed myself up, staggering toward the balcony. I needed air. I needed to breathe.

With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and dialed Damien.

He rejected the call.

I dialed again.

Rejected again.

A third time.

This time, he answered, his voice thick with annoyance.

"What is it, Sophia? I told you-"

"You need to come home. Now," I cut him off, my voice so cold it surprised even me. "It's about Ashley. This can't wait."

"I'm in a meeting. This can-"

"If you don't come," I interrupted again, enunciating each word, "I swear I will walk right up to the reporters outside your office and give them a front-row view of the father and Alpha you really are."

Silence.

Then, a low growl. "I'm on my way."

I hung up.

Standing by the window, I watched the driveway, my heart pounding.

Minutes later, a sleek black luxury car pulled in. I expected Damien to get out alone. But Tiffany stepped out of the passenger side first. She was holding Damien's arm, carrying herself like she already owned the place. Like she was the Luna of this pack.

My wolf bared its fangs.

This was deliberate. She knew I was here. She wanted me to see.

"Aunt Tiffany!"

Ashley's shriek came from downstairs. Before I could react, she had burst out of the house and thrown herself into Tiffany's arms.

The sheer joy, the unbridled delight on her face-it was something I had never seen directed at me.

Tiffany lifted her easily. Over Ashley's shoulder, her eyes met mine, a smile of pure victory curling her lips.

Something inside me snapped.

I rushed downstairs, striding toward them. "Put my daughter down."

"She came to me," Tiffany said sweetly, gently patting Ashley's back. "What was I supposed to do? Reject a child's affection?"

"You have no right to touch her!" My voice shook. "She is my daughter. Not yours!"

"Sophia, calm down," Damien finally spoke, his tone dripping with impatience.

"Calm down?" I whirled to face him, staring in disbelief. "You want me to calm down? Look at what she's doing! She's holding my child in front of me, and Ashley-"

"Ashley likes her," Damien stated coldly. "What's the problem?"

"The problem?" A hysterical laugh nearly escaped me. "The problem is she's replacing me! She's making Ashley believe she's the mother!"

"Perhaps," Damien's icy gaze locked on me, "perhaps she would be a better one."

SOPHIA'S POV

For a moment, I simply stood there, unable to breathe as Damien's words echoed in my ears.

"Tiffany will be a better mother to her than you ever were."

I stared at him, stunned. I could feel my wolf dropping to her knees inside me with a soft, wounded whine. My heart didn't just hurt. It cracked open. It felt like someone had driven claws straight through it.

"What. what did you just say?" I whispered. "Damien, what do you mean by that? How can you say something like-"

But he ignored me completely as if I were nothing more than an inconvenient noise. He placed a hand on Tiffany's lower back. He did it so casually, so intimately.

He guided her toward the villa's entrance.

Seeing him touch her like that, right in front of me, felt like being stabbed in the chest. My wolf's fur raised in anger and humiliation, but she was too injured to snarl.

"Damien," I called again, louder "Look at me. Explain what you meant."

He finally stopped, but he still did not look at me. Instead, he looked down at Ashley, smoothing her hair, the way he never did for me or for our daughter unless someone else was watching.

Tiffany smirked slightly, and Ashley leaned into her like she was the safest person in the world.

"What I meant," he finally said,, "is that Ashley needs someone dependable. Someone who is actually present. Someone who isn't always buried in work or too tired to handle her."

My lips parted in disbelief. "I work because you told me to! You said the family valued ambition. You said a Luna should contribute. Damien, you-"

He cut me off with a dismissive wave. "You're always busy. Always away. Ashley needs stability."

"I'm her mother," I snapped. "I'm her mother, Damien. You can't replace me with-"

"With someone who's actually here?" he shot back, finally turning to meet my eyes.

His eyes were hard, Alpha-cold. It pushed against my chest with the force of dominance, demanding submission. But I fought it. I had to.

Tiffany placed a soothing hand on his arm.

"Damien, let's calm down. I'm sure Sophia didn't mean to cause trouble. She's probably just overwhelmed."

Her voice was soft and sweet. She petted his arm like she tamed him. My wolf growled in my chest.

"Damien," I said again through clenched teeth, "you still haven't answered my question. What do you mean Ashley needs someone dependable once I get pregnant again? Why would that even be Tiffany's responsibility-"

Tiffany stiffened. Damien's silence was enough of an answer.

Something cold slid down my spine. "What did you do?"

Damien let out a breath as if bored by my confusion.

"I moved Tiffany Stonewall Villa temporarily."

My eyes widened. "You what?"

"She'll be staying here full-time," he continued. "As Ashley's guardian."

Ice flooded my veins. "Where is Ms. Dale? The nanny I hired?"

"Fired," he said bluntly. "Tiffany will take her place."

It felt like the ground tilted under me. "Without asking me? She's my - she's our daughter! How dare you make decisions without consulting-"

"My decisions are final," he said flatly. "This arrangement is what's best for Ashley."

"No," I whispered. My voice was shaking violently now. "This arrangement is what's best for you and Tiffany."

Tiffany opened her mouth, probably to offer another sickeningly sweet line, but something inside me snapped.

I stepped closer, breathing heavily.

"Stay out of it, Tiffany. I swear to the Goddess, stay out of-"

"Sophia," she said with feigned gentleness, reaching out as if to comfort me, "I'm not trying to replace you. I'm only trying to help. Ashley deserves-"

My hand moved before thought could catch up.

I slapped her.

The sound echoed in the hallway. Tiffany's head snapped to the side. She stared at me, stunned.

She had her hand pressed to her cheek. For the first time, her mask slipped. She wasn't sweet. She wasn't gentle. She was furious.

Ashley gasped and immediately ran to her, shielding Tiffany with her tiny arms as if I were the villain in her story.

"Mommy!" she cried. Her eyes were filled with tears. "You're a bad mom! Why would you hit Aunty Tiffany?"

My wolf was stunned. Bad mom. The words echoed in my skull.

"Ashley. no, baby, listen-" I reached for her.

She slapped my hand away. It was hard enough that my wrist stung.

"Don't touch me! You don't even love me! Aunty Tiffany said so!"

I froze. Tiffany said what?

But before I could react, Ashley hugged Tiffany tightly, glaring at me with hurt and anger no child her age should ever carry.

Damien wrapped an arm around both of them. His posture was protective and something inside me shattered so deeply I felt it physically, like my chest was caving in.

They stood there together. They looked like the perfect little family: Damien, Tiffany, and Ashley.

They looked fitting and complete.

And I wasn't part of it. Not anymore.

Not ever again.

Everything fell silent around me, including my wolf. She lowered herself inside my chest. Her ears went flat with heartbreak.

I realized that nothing I did, nothing I begged for, nothing I sacrificed would ever be enough for this man or this pack. My place had been erased. I had been replaced.

I turned away because I couldn't bear the sight. I couldn't breathe near them without feeling like I was suffocating.

I walked back to the pack house in a numb haze.

Once inside my study, I pulled out the divorce agreement with shaking hands. The ink I had written earlier was still fresh, still hopeful in its own way.

Half the assets. Custody. Child support. All of it meant nothing now.

Slowly, painfully, I crossed out the entire custody section.

I wrote clear, decisive words: Full custody to Damien Stone. No visitation. No intervention. No rights.

My pen hovered for a long moment as something inside me howled in grief. But I forced myself to sign it.

My signature looked lifeless, like someone else's hand wrote it.

For the final time, I placed a trembling hand on my stomach. My wolf whispered weakly inside me. She was just as sad as I was.

"I can't bring you into this," I murmured to the life barely forming inside me. "I can't do this to another child."

Tears blurred my vision, but I kept moving. I put on my coat. I grabbed my bag. I walked out of the villa and headed straight to the hospital.

I was determined - painfully, desperately determined - to terminate the pregnancy. to sever every remaining tie to Damien, to Tiffany, to this life that kept breaking me.