The slap came hard and fast, the sharp sting exploding across my cheek. My head snapped to the side, my vision blurring for a moment. The metallic taste of blood spread over my tongue as I let out a slow, controlled breath.

Alpha Luther stood before me, chest heaving with rage. His dark eyes burned with fury, his jaw clenched so tight I thought it might snap. "Apologize," he growled, his voice laced with authority.

I wiped the blood from my lip, refusing to bow. "I will never be sorry for something I didn’t do."

Catherine let out a dramatic sob, clutching her stomach like she had been the one struck. "She hates me, Luther," she cried, her voice shaking. "She said I should abort the baby—she doesn’t want me to have your child."

My stomach twisted at her lies, but I refused to let my pain show.

Luther’s face darkened. "You’re jealous, Cheryl. You’ve always been jealous of her."

I let out a humorless laugh. "Jealous? You betrayed me!"

"Enough!" he roared, making the walls tremble.

I lifted my chin, daring him to do worse. His gaze was wild with unchecked rage, and for a moment, I thought he might strike me again. Instead, he turned to his Beta, Mason, who stood silently by the door, watching the scene unfold.

"Lock her in the basement," Luther ordered. "She can rot there until she learns to respect her sister."

My heart stilled. "You wouldn’t."

Luther leaned in, his voice a whisper of ice. "Try me."

Mason hesitated for only a second before grabbing my arm, his grip firm. I didn’t fight as he dragged me away. It was no use. The moment Luther made up his mind, there was no changing it.

The Skyler pack basement was nothing more than a forgotten pit of darkness, damp and reeking of mildew. The heavy metal door creaked as Mason shoved me inside, the sound echoing through the stone walls before it slammed shut behind me.

The darkness swallowed me whole.

I slammed my fists against the door. "Luther! Get me out of here!"

Nothing. Just silence.

I slid down against the wall, wrapping my arms around my legs as the chill seeped into my bones. Hours passed, maybe more. The hunger gnawed at my stomach, my limbs trembling from the cold. I closed my eyes, exhaustion pulling at me, my mind drifting somewhere between sleep and despair.

This was how I would die. The lock clicked.

My head snapped up as the heavy door creaked open, golden light spilling into the basement. I blinked against the sudden brightness, my breath catching as a shadowed figure stepped inside.

For a brief, foolish moment, I thought it was Luther. But then he spoke.

"Cheryl," the deep voice was unfamiliar, yet strangely warm.

Vander Skyler. Luther’s stepbrother.

He knelt beside me, his face barely visible in the dim light. "You’re freezing.”

My body trembled, too weak to move. Vander didn’t wait for an answer. He slipped his arms around me, lifting me with ease. I wanted to protest, to demand why he was helping me, but the warmth of his body against mine lulled me into a hazy silence.

"Stay awake," he murmured as he carried me outside. "You’re not dying today."

The fresh air hit me like a slap, burning my skin. My head lolled against his shoulder as my vision blurred again.

"Why?" I managed to whisper. "Why are you helping me?"

Vander’s jaw tightened. "Because you don’t deserve this."

Everything else faded as unconsciousness claimed me.

I woke to the sterile scent of antiseptic and soft sheets beneath my body. My fingers curled into the fabric as I turned my head, squinting against the harsh white lights.

"You’re awake."

The voice was gentle, unfamiliar. I turned to see a healer standing beside me, her hands clasped in front of her. Vander stood behind her, his expression unreadable.

My throat burned, my voice barely a whisper. "Where am I?"

"Skyler Pack Hospital," the healer answered. "You were severely hypothermic when Vander brought you in. Had he waited any longer, you wouldn’t have survived."

A shiver ran down my spine. I had been that close to death?

"You need to rest," the healer continued, then hesitated before adding, "There’s something else."

Something about her tone sent ice through my veins.

"What?" My voice was barely above a whisper.

She exchanged a look with Vander before speaking. "You’re pregnant."

The words didn’t register. They couldn’t.

I stared at her, waiting for the punchline, for her to say she was joking. But she didn’t.

"That’s not possible," I breathed. "I—I can’t have children."

"The tests don’t lie," she said gently. "You’re about three weeks along."

I pressed a shaking hand against my stomach. I had spent years believing I was infertile. Years watching Luther look at me with disappointment, watching him seek solace in Catherine. And now…

A child. Luther’s child.

I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. No. I couldn’t let him find out. He had already discarded me like trash. If he knew about the baby, he would use it against me.

I turned to Vander, my voice hoarse. "Luther can’t know."

Vander didn’t look surprised. He studied me for a long moment before nodding. "What do you want to do?"

My chest tightened. "I want a divorce."

His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t argue. "And the baby?"

I clenched my fists. "I won’t let him take my child."

Silence stretched between us before I forced myself to meet his gaze. "Would you… would you be willing to claim the baby as yours?"

For the first time, I saw something flicker in Vander’s eyes. He didn’t answer right away, just stared at me, as if weighing the weight of my words.

Then, finally, he exhaled. "If that’s what you want, then yes."

When I returned to the Skyler mansion with Alpha Vander, I saw Luther standing at the foot of the grand staircase, his face dark with jealousy, his piercing gaze locked onto Vander’s hand clasping mine.

His voice was sharp as a blade. "Why is she out of the basement?"

Vander stepped forward, his grip tightening protectively around my fingers. "Why the hell did you lock up your own mate? Left her to die in hunger and cold?" His voice was low, dangerous.

Luther scoffed. "She hurt Catherine—her own sister. And now she wants to harm the baby that will strengthen our bond."

I yanked my hand from Vander’s, stepping past him. "Enough!" My voice echoed through the grand hall. "I want a divorce, Luther."

His eyes flashed. "No."

The word was final, dismissive. As if my choice didn’t matter. As if I was nothing.

Days passed. I was trapped within these walls, unable to leave, unable to see Vander. Luther had barred him from entering the mansion, and the guards made sure I couldn’t sneak out either. I was a prisoner in my own home, suffocating in a golden cage.

I spent most of my time staring out the window, my mind racing for a way out. I couldn’t simply leave; it would damage my pack. A divorce wasn’t just between two people—it was political, a shift in alliances. Timing was everything.

Then, one evening, Luther came to my room. I didn’t look at him, but I felt his presence looming behind me.

"Catherine’s birthday is coming up," he said. "You’ll help prepare for it. It’s your only chance to apologize."

I turned slowly, my hands clenching into fists. "Apologize? For what?"

His gaze was cold. "For your jealousy. For making things difficult. This is your chance to prove you still have a place here."

I let out a bitter laugh. "A place? Do I look like a fool to you?"

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The answer was clear.

Catherine would always come first.

The night of Catherine’s birthday party arrived, and the mansion was unrecognizable. Elegant decorations adorned the walls, expensive wines flowed endlessly, and the grand ballroom sparkled with golden chandeliers. It was a celebration fit for Luna.

But Catherine wasn’t the Luna. I was.

I stood near the back of the room, unnoticed, watching as Luther paraded her around like she was his queen. The way he looked at her, the way he held her waist, it was something I had never received from him.

My own birthday had passed months ago. No celebration. No party. Just me, sitting alone while Luther claimed he had urgent packing matters to attend to. But now, seeing this—how he moved heaven and earth for Catherine, I realized how blind I had been.

The expensive gifts he had brought for her weren’t simple tokens of appreciation. The lingering touches, the stolen glances, the way he defended her at every turn—it wasn’t just favoritism.

It was love.

And I had been nothing but a placeholder.

The party carried on, the loud music and laughter filled the air. I was nothing more than a shadow against the walls, listening to the whispers that floated around me.

"Isn’t she the Alpha’s mate? Why is she standing alone?"

"It’s obvious, isn’t it? The Alpha treats her like a stranger."

"I heard Catherine is carrying his real heir. Maybe Cherry’s being pushed aside."

Their words dug into me like claws, tearing at wounds that had barely begun to scab over. My hands trembled as I turned away, my vision blurring. I couldn’t breathe. I needed to get out.

I spun on my heel, ready to escape, when a sudden screech rang through the ballroom. The microphone.

The music died. Conversations halted. All eyes turned to the stage.

And there, standing under the bright lights, was Vander.

My breath hitched.

His expression was calm, but his eyes burned with something fierce, something determined. He held the microphone in his hand, gaze sweeping across the crowd before landing on Luther.

"I won’t stay silent any longer," Vander’s voice carried through the room. "You all deserve to know the truth."

A murmur rippled through the guests, confusion and curiosity buzzing in the air.

"Alpha Luther has been lying to all of you." Vander continued. "Catherine was never Cheryl’s surrogate. She was never meant to carry the Alpha’s heir. Because she isn’t just a surrogate—"

He turned to Luther, voice laced with venom.

"She’s his mistress."

Gasps filled the room.

I felt my heartbeat slam against my ribs as every eye turned to Luther, to Catherine. Catherine’s face drained of color, her hands shaking as she stepped forward. "Vander, stop this. You’re ruining the party—"

"Oh, I’m not done yet," Vander cut her off. "I wonder, Luther—how long were you planning to keep up this act? How long were you going to pretend that Cheryl was your Luna when you’ve already replaced her?"

Luther’s fists clenched, his face twisting with fury. "You don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Don’t I?" Vander let out a cold chuckle. "Then why don’t we ask Cheryl?"

Silence. Everyone turned to look at me, and Vander gave me a look that silently urged—this was my moment to speak up.

“I’m pregnant.” I finally said.

The room was suffocating. The moment my words left my lips, the entire ballroom turned into a war zone of whispers and gasps. The tension was so thick I could taste it, bitter and electric.

Luther’s expression barely changed at first. He stared at me, his eyes dark and unreadable, like he was waiting for the punchline to a sick joke.

Then I gave it to him.

“It’s Vander’s.”

Silence. A deafening, crushing silence.

And then—chaos.

Catherine sucked in a sharp breath beside Luther, her nails digging into his arm. The murmurs turned into an uproar, voices overlapping, clashing, breaking through the heavy tension like shattered glass.

Luther’s entire body went rigid. His breathing turned ragged, his hands trembling at his sides—not with fear, but with fury.

“What did you just say?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried through the hall like a blade pressed against my throat.

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering so violently it hurt. But I couldn’t back down. This was my only way out.

“I’m carrying Vander’s child,” I repeated, my voice steadier this time. “And that means I have no place here anymore. Our bond is over, Luther.”

The words were a death sentence. Luther lunged.

I barely had time to react before he was on me, his grip vice-like as he yanked me close, his fingers digging into my wrist so hard I thought the bone might snap.

“Liar!” His breath was hot against my skin, his fury vibrating through me. “You think I’ll believe that? You were locked in my basement, rotting in filth. When the hell did you have time to spread your legs for my brother?”

I flinched, but I refused to let him see my fear. “I had time,” I bit out. “Enough time to find someone who actually wanted me.”

Luther’s grip tightened. For a second, I thought he might throw me to the ground right there, humiliate me in front of everyone.

Then Vander stepped in.

His hand landed on Luther’s shoulder, his voice calm but firm. “Let her go.”

Luther snapped his head toward Vander, his lips curling in disgust. “You—” He laughed, sharp and humorless. “You expect me to believe you’d touch her? That you’d claim my mate?”

Vander didn’t even blink. “Believe what you want.” His gaze flickered at me, something unreadable behind his eyes. “But I don’t abandon what’s mine.”

The entire room held its breath.

Luther looked between us, his face contorting with something ugly, something dangerous. “You think you can just take her from me?” His voice dropped to a whisper, but it was more terrifying than his shouting. “You think I’ll let this go?”

I forced my chin up. “You don’t have a choice.”

The veins in his neck bulged. His control was slipping. And I knew he was seconds away from doing something violent.

Catherine tugged on his arm; her voice desperate. “Luther, don’t—”

But he wrenched away from her and turned back to me, his eyes burning with something worse than hatred.

“You think you can cut me out of your life that easily?” His voice was poison, sinking into my skin. “You think I’ll let you walk away after everything?”

My chest tightened, but I refused to look away. “You already walked away first.”

He exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. “If that’s how you want to play this, fine.” His gaze dropped to my stomach, his lips curling. “But tell me, Cheryl—what do you think will happen when that child is born?”

A chill raced down my spine.

Luther took a step closer, towering over me. “Do you really think you can keep a Skyler from me? Whether that child is yours, mine, or his—” His glare cut to Vander, his voice laced with venom. “That baby is still part of this pack. And you know what that means.”

My stomach churned. I knew exactly what he meant.

Skyler pack heirs weren’t just personal possessions. They were weapons. Pawns. And Luther didn’t let go of what was his.

Fear coiled in my gut, but I shoved it down. “I won’t let you take my child.”

Luther smirked, slow and cruel. “Then you better run, Cheryl.”

The room felt too small, the air too thin. I felt trapped, cornered—because I was. Luther wasn’t letting me go. Not easily. Not ever.

My hands curled into fists. “You don’t own me.”

His smirk widened. “Don’t I?”

Before I could respond, before I could even process what was happening, he turned to the guests, his expression twisting into one of cold authority.

“The Skyler pack does not accept traitors,” he announced, his voice echoing through the hall. “And a Luna who betrays her mate? A woman who carries another Alpha’s child?” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “She is no Luna of mine.”

Words should have freed me. Instead, they shackled me further.

Because when he turned back to me, his next words came like a blade to my throat.

“You’re banished from this pack.”

A gasp rippled through the room.

Catherine’s eyes widened, her lips parting, as if she hadn’t expected things to escalate this far.

Vander tensed beside me. “Luther, don’t do this—”

“Get her out of my sight,” Luther cut him off, his voice like ice. “Before I rip that bastard from her myself.”

My blood ran cold. Luther held my gaze for a long, agonizing moment. And then he turned on his heel, striding away, leaving me standing there, shaking, broken—but alive.

I barely registered the guards moving toward me. I barely heard Vander’s voice, arguing, pushing back, trying to stop this.

Because the only thing ringing in my ears was Luther’s final warning.

'YOU BETTER RUN, CHERYL.'