Seraphina POV

The harsh, stinging scent of bleach and rubbing alcohol dragged me back to consciousness. There was no damp earth, no pine, no comforting warmth of a Pack House. Only the sterile, lifeless hum of a heart monitor and the blinding glare of fluorescent lights.

I tried to move, but a sharp, tearing agony ripped through my abdomen. I gasped, my hand instinctively flying to my stomach.

It was flat. The subtle, warm flutter of life I had clung to was gone.

"Miss Harmon?" A woman in a white coat stepped into my line of sight. Her human eyes were soft with a practiced, clinical sympathy. "I'm Dr. Evans. You were brought in by a passing motorist. You suffered severe blunt force trauma to your abdomen." She paused, her voice dropping. "I am so incredibly sorry. We couldn't save the pregnancy. The embryo was only about five to six weeks, but the damage was... complete."

The words hung in the air, suffocating me. I stared at the ceiling, the white tiles blurring as the memory of the dark woods crashed over me.

That little mongrel in your belly will never draw breath on Blackwood land. Genevieve’s venomous whisper echoed in my ears, perfectly synchronized with the heavy thud of the Rogue’s boot. That's the point.

A violent shudder wracked my broken body. This wasn't a random tragedy. It was an execution. Genevieve Blackwood had orchestrated the entire thing, and Isabelle Pruitt had handed her the knife by destroying my credibility. They had murdered my baby.

"Miss Harmon, the police are here," Dr. Evans said gently. "They need to ask you a few questions."

Two human officers stepped into the room, their expressions grim. "Miss Harmon, your injuries suggest a targeted assault. Nothing was stolen. Do you know who did this? Do you have any enemies?"

Genevieve’s name burned on my tongue. But as I looked at the officers, reality settled over me like a shroud of ice. How could I explain a wolfless Omega, a hired Rogue, and a ruthless Luna? To them, Kael Blackwood was a respected billionaire CEO, a pillar of human society. One phone call from him, and I would be locked in a psychiatric ward for the rest of my life. Human law could not touch the monsters of my world.

"No," I whispered, my voice hoarse and dead. "It was dark. He wore a mask. Just a random lunatic."

The officers exchanged a frustrated look, took their notes, and left. By lying to them, I had chosen my path. There would be no human justice. I would have to survive, and I would have to make them bleed on my own terms.

Yet, beneath the boiling hatred, a pathetic, bleeding fragment of my severed mate-bond still twitched. A foolish, desperate part of my soul screamed that if Kael only knew the truth—if he knew his child was dead—the Alpha who once swore to protect me would wake up from his mother's manipulation.

"Excuse me," I croaked to the nurse. "Do you know if my personal belongings came with me? My phone?"

She nodded and retrieved a small plastic bag from a drawer. Inside was my battered phone—screen cracked, but still alive. Kael hadn't even bothered to take it from me. He probably wanted me to remember every hateful comment online.

I powered it on. My fingers trembled violently as I opened the messaging app and typed in the private number I knew by heart.

I was attacked. I'm in the hospital. The baby... our baby is gone.

I hit send. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of agonizing hope. Minutes bled into one another. I stared at the screen, praying to a Goddess I no longer believed in.

The phone buzzed.

My breath hitched. I opened the message, my eyes scanning the glowing text.

Stop the lies, Seraphina. I don't care about your games. You are dead to me.

The phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering onto the thin hospital blanket.

Isabelle POV

The crystal goblet felt heavy in my hand, the dark red wine inside swirling like the blood spilled in the woods last night.

"To the future of the Blackwood Pack," Genevieve murmured, her voice as smooth as silk. She took a delicate sip, her scent of winter roses and expensive perfume filling her lavish private sitting room.

I forced a smile and clinked my glass against hers. "To the future."

A flicker of unease gnawed at the edge of my conscience. The plan had been to ruin Seraphina's reputation, to make Kael reject her. But the hired Rogue... the brutal attack on a pregnant female... it was a line I hadn't fully prepared to cross.

Genevieve noticed my hesitation. Her sharp, calculating eyes pinned me down. "Do not let misplaced pity cloud your judgment, Isabelle. You are looking at this like a weak human, not a Luna." She set her glass down, her tone hardening. "That wolfless Omega was a parasite. The mongrel in her belly would have been a permanent stain on our pure bloodline. I simply cleansed our legacy."

Her words acted like a potent venom, paralyzing my guilt and replacing it with a intoxicating rush of ambition. She was right. Seraphina didn't belong here.

"Kael's soul is bleeding from the Rejection," Genevieve continued, stepping closer to touch my shoulder. "His inner wolf is in chaos. He needs an anchor. Go to him now. Be his comfort, and the Luna title is yours."

My heart raced. I nodded, leaving the sitting room and heading straight for the Alpha's office.

Before pushing open the heavy mahogany doors, I paused to unbutton the top two buttons of my silk blouse, ensuring the curve of my cleavage was perfectly visible. I took a deep breath, projecting my sweetest, most inviting scent, and walked in.

The air inside was suffocating. Kael's usually crisp scent of cedar and winter wind was soured by a raw, violent agony. He sat behind his massive desk, his head buried in his hands, fingers gripping his dark hair. I could practically feel his inner wolf, Fenrir, thrashing and howling in the confines of his mind, devastated by the severed mate-bond.

"Kael?" I whispered, walking around the desk. I perched on the edge of the polished wood, leaning in close so my perfume would wrap around him. "I'm so sorry you're hurting. I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

I reached out, letting my fingers brush against his tense shoulder.

He flinched, pulling away as if my touch burned. He lifted his head, and the emptiness in his eyes sent a chill down my spine. He wasn't looking at me; he was staring right through me.

"Thank you for your loyalty, Isabelle," he said, his voice mechanical, completely devoid of the Alpha heat I craved. "But I need to be alone."

Frustration flared hot in my chest. Even gone, that pathetic Omega's ghost still had its claws in him. The mate-bond was a stubborn, wretched thing.

Suddenly, Kael stiffened. His eyes glazed over for a fraction of a second—a Pack mind-link.

"Rogues spotted near the western border," he growled, his Alpha instincts momentarily overriding his grief. He stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor. Without another glance in my direction, he stormed out of the office, the heavy doors clicking shut behind him.

I let out a breath of pure annoyance, sliding off the desk.

Then, the screen of his phone, left carelessly on the leather blotter, lit up.

My eyes darted to the display. The name Seraphina flashed across the screen.

My blood ran cold. I snatched the phone before the screen could lock. I knew Kael's passcode—I had watched him type it a hundred times, pretending not to look. My fingers flew across the keyboard, unlocking the device.

My eyes scanned the glowing text.

I was attacked. I'm in the hospital. The baby... our baby is gone.

Panic seized my throat. If Kael saw this... if his Alpha protective instincts were triggered by the loss of his pup, he would tear the city apart to find her. He would ask questions. He would find out about the Rogue. He would find out about us.

The panic quickly morphed into a vicious, protective malice. I had come too far to let that wolfless bitch ruin my future with a pity plea.

My fingers flew across the keyboard, mimicking the cold, ruthless tone Kael had used since the Rejection.

Stop the lies, Seraphina. I don't care about your games. You are dead to me.

I hit send.

I watched the little 'delivered' notification pop up. Then, with methodical precision, I deleted the entire conversation—incoming and outgoing. I even cleared the "recently deleted" folder. I wiped her existence from the device entirely.

I set the phone back on the desk, exactly where Kael had left it. The office was dead silent, save for the steady ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Seraphina POV

Two days. That was how long it took for my body to heal enough to be discarded, and for my soul to bleed out completely.

Standing at the hospital billing counter, I stared at the sleek black card Kael had given me months ago. Stop the lies, Seraphina. I don't care about your games. You are dead to me. The text he sent two nights ago echoed in my hollow chest, a phantom blade twisting in my heart. Using his money meant accepting his narrative—that our murdered pup was just a trick.

I shoved the card back into my pocket and pulled out a thick envelope of cash, my entire life savings from my days as a Pack secretary. The human clerk's eyes widened in pity as I paid the astronomical bill in full. I was penniless, but I was free. The last chain binding me to Kael Blackwood was severed.

Walking out into the biting wind, the sterile hospital scent faded. I thought of the money, of the Pack House, of Genevieve Blackwood. The Moon Goddess never blesses a traitor's womb. Her venomous whisper before the attack played in my mind. It wasn't just a cruel taunt; it was a confession. Genevieve had orchestrated the Rogue attack. She murdered my baby to keep her precious Alpha bloodline pure. A dark, vicious hatred took root where my grief had been. I swore to the Goddess, I would make her pay.

By nightfall, my exhaustion was bone-deep. I dragged myself to the cheapest motels on the city's edge. The first two claimed they were full the second they saw my ID. At the third, a dingy place smelling of stale smoke, the manager didn't even pretend.

"Mr. Blackwood put the word out," he muttered, avoiding my eyes. "No legitimate business in this city will take you in. We don't want Pack trouble."

I was a wolfless Omega, exiled and now hunted by the very Alpha who was supposed to protect me.

With nowhere to go, I collapsed onto a freezing park bench. My fingers numb, I pulled out my phone and searched my name. The results were a tidal wave of filth. Rogue's whore. Wolfless parasite. Articles and Pack forums accused me of faking a pregnancy to trap the Alpha. My photos were plastered everywhere, drowning in vicious comments. Kael was letting them crucify me. His silence was his endorsement. My heart turned to absolute ice.

A muffled scream shattered the quiet night.

I bolted up, my instincts overriding my exhaustion. The sound came from a dark, trash-littered alley nearby. I crept closer and saw a massive man—reeking of the sour, metallic stench of a Rogue—trying to drag an elegantly dressed elderly woman toward a rusted sedan.

"Hey! Let her go!" I screamed, stepping into the dim streetlight.

The Rogue paused, sniffing the air. A cruel smirk twisted his scarred face as he registered my scent. "A wolfless little bitch. Go away, before I gut you too." He pulled a hunting knife, the blade glinting in the dark.

I had nothing left to lose. As he lunged, underestimating my desperate rage, I grabbed a heavy metal trash can lid. I swung it with every ounce of strength I possessed, smashing it directly into his face. He stumbled back, stunned. I shoved him hard. His head cracked sickeningly against the car door, and he crumpled to the asphalt, out cold.

Panting, I dropped the dented lid and rushed to the trembling woman. "Are you okay? We need to get out of here before he wakes up."

She didn't seem to hear me. Her wide, tear-filled eyes were locked on my face. Slowly, a trembling hand reached up, her soft fingers brushing my cold cheek. The sheer reverence in her gaze made my breath hitch.

"Agnes?" she breathed, her voice breaking with a miraculous, agonizing joy. "My beautiful girl... I knew you were alive."