Aria’s POV

The following morning, my assistant quietly informed me that the procedure had been arranged.

“Ma’am,” she hesitated, lowering her voice, “are you truly not going to inform the Alpha? The pup is already… this far along.”

“There’s no reason to,” I replied calmly.

My palm rested over the slight curve of my abdomen. The little life inside me, once restless and strong, had grown unnervingly still—as if it sensed my resolve, or perhaps my sorrow. The silence within me felt heavier than any movement ever had.

If I was honest with myself, until just yesterday, I’d still been trapped in a fragile fantasy—believing I was content, believing this life was enough.

Ronan had always been careful. Too careful. If he wanted to continue seeing Delilah behind my back, he easily could have. With his position, his authority as Alpha, and his talent for deception, I might never have uncovered the truth.

But he’d grown careless.

Maybe the pregnancy had progressed too far. Maybe he assumed that even if I discovered everything, I’d stay. After all, what pregnant she-wolf would dare walk away from an Alpha?

He misjudged me.

I had waited a decade for his affection—since I was sixteen years old. I endured years of silent longing, endured becoming his hidden mate, endured carrying his child while being kept in the dark. I knew how to wait.

What I could not endure was being reduced to a tool—used to bear his heir, only to be discarded once my purpose was fulfilled and replaced by another woman.

On my way to the hospital, I stopped by the commercial complex next door, hoping to eat something light. My appetite was poor, but I knew I needed the strength.

That was when a voice I knew far too well reached my ears.

“This area deserves closer attention. Local luxury brands are expanding faster than expected.”

My steps faltered.

I turned my head—and there he was.

Ronan stood only a few aisles away, tall and composed as ever. At his side was Delilah. Both were dressed impeccably, radiating the polished air of a formal inspection. They looked like a perfect pair—Alpha and Luna-in-waiting.

My chest tightened painfully. I was just about to turn away when I heard a light, artificial laugh.

“Well, isn’t this unexpected? Miss Ravenscar—what a coincidence!”

Delilah approached in graceful strides, the click of her heels sharp against the floor. Her smile was professional, flawless, and utterly false.

Before I could respond, the mall’s general manager rushed over, beaming. “Alpha Blackcliff, Mrs. Blackcliff—right this way, please. We’ve prepared a new section just for you to review.”

Delilah laughed softly. “Please, call me Delilah. Let’s keep business and personal matters separate.”

As she spoke, her eyes flicked toward me—quick, deliberate.

My fingers curled into fists.

So this was how it was. The man who had hidden me for years couldn’t even wait for our child to be born before publicly parading his former mate as his future Luna—introducing her to partners, no less.

She turned back to me with a conspiratorial smile. “Miss Ravenscar, you won’t mention this to anyone, will you? No one in the company knows yet. We’d like to wait until after the mating ceremony to make it official.”

She said it lightly, as if sharing a harmless secret. As if she didn’t know exactly who I was.

Ronan’s expression tightened. Guilt flickered briefly in his eyes—followed by that familiar, silent warning. Don’t cause trouble.

My heart twisted, but I still forced a polite smile.

“Of course,” I said evenly. “I won’t say a word.”

Because once the procedure was done, I would be gone. Whatever they planned together would no longer concern me.

“I knew you’d understand,” Delilah said brightly. “But tell me—why are you here alone? Where’s your mate?”

There was a sharp triumph in her gaze as she looped her arm through mine, pretending familiarity.

“All this talk about numbers makes me uneasy,” she continued sweetly. “It’s all males. Will you stay with me for a bit?”

I gently pulled my arm free, refusing to look at Ronan.

“I don’t have a mate,” I replied.

For a split second, his expression darkened—but it vanished just as quickly. When he spoke, his tone was brisk, impersonal.

“Since you’re already here, guide Delilah around. She’s still getting familiar with things.”

Without waiting for my response, he turned and left with the manager.

I frowned and tried again to free myself, but Delilah leaned closer, her smile gone, her voice dropping to a whisper sharp as a blade.

“I know what you are to him,” she said quietly. “But let’s be honest—you’re nothing more than a vessel. Ronan belongs to me. Once that pup is born, the Luna who stands beside him will be me.”

Cold spread through my veins.

“Let go,” I said.

I pushed her lightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to create distance.

She screamed.

In the next instant, she staggered sideways and crashed into a she-wolf passing by with a baby in her arms. Both mother and child fell hard to the floor.

The infant’s cry rang out, shrill and terrified.

The woman scrambled up, rage flashing across her face as she pointed at me. “Are you out of your mind?! You’re pregnant—how could you shove someone like that?! Are you trying to get someone killed?!”

I stepped forward instinctively. “No, it wasn’t—”

Delilah cut in before I could finish. Tears streamed down her face as she bowed repeatedly, her voice shaking.

“I’m so sorry—this is my fault! Please don’t blame her. The vice president didn’t mean to do anything! It was me—I lost my balance. Please, I’m begging you…”

Her performance was flawless.

And in that moment, I understood exactly how alone I truly was.

Aria’s POV

The she-wolf’s face contorted with fury as she pointed straight at me, her finger nearly touching my nose.

“A vice president?” she screeched. “So you’re her superior, and you treat her like this? Bully her, then shove the blame onto her shoulders? What kind of pack leadership allows monsters like you to rise? Is this what your company—and your pack—stands for?”

“I didn’t—” My chest tightened painfully. Air refused to reach my lungs. I tried to speak again, but before I could finish, a familiar presence surged toward us.

Ronan.

The moment his gaze swept over Delilah sprawled on the floor and the wailing infant nearby, his expression darkened into something terrifying.

“What happened here?” he demanded.

Delilah answered before I could open my mouth. She explained tearfully that I had “accidentally” shoved her, causing her to collide with the woman carrying the child.

She clutched her ankle and whimpered pitifully. “It might be injured… but it’s fine. Really. Please don’t be angry. Just explain it to the customer—the vice president didn’t mean to do this…”

Ronan spun toward me, fury blazing in his eyes. “Aria! Have you lost your mind? You couldn’t even handle something this small? Why would you push her?!”

“I didn’t—”

“I don’t want excuses!” he snapped. “Apologize. Right now.”

I stood rooted to the spot, breath shallow and uneven.

He believes her, I thought numbly. Just like he always does.

But something inside me finally snapped.

“I won’t apologize,” I said quietly. “Not for something I didn’t do.”

One hand instinctively covered my stomach. My voice shook, but I didn’t back down.

I was leaving anyway. I was done begging, done lowering myself.

Shock flickered across his face—he clearly hadn’t expected me to resist.

Before he could bark another order, the enraged customer suddenly lunged forward and shoved me hard.

“You shameless bitch!” she screamed. “With that kind of attitude, no wonder your child will turn out rotten! You won’t even say sorry? Get out of my sight!”

I hit the floor with a sickening thud.

A sharp, tearing pain ripped through my abdomen. My ears rang violently, the world dissolving into white noise. I couldn’t hear anything clearly anymore—only a dull, roaring buzz.

Ronan stepped toward me, his hand twitching as if he meant to help.

Then he stopped.

In the next heartbeat, he turned away and scooped Delilah into his arms instead, rushing her toward the exit.

“Think about what you’ve done, Aria!” he barked over his shoulder.

I lay on the freezing tiles, curled around my belly as agony surged through me in relentless waves.

Around me, voices rose and fell. Wolves whispered. Some shouted. Others recoiled as if I were contagious. I could see flashes of light—phones lifted, recording my collapse, my humiliation.

That was all I could perceive.

Whispers. Noise. And the unbearable pain tearing me apart from the inside.

It wasn’t until much later that someone finally realized something was seriously wrong and called for medical help.

At the hospital, chaos erupted as doctors rushed me down a hallway toward the operating room.

“Where’s her family?!” one of them shouted. “Her vitals are crashing—do we prioritize the mother or the pup?!”

A nurse grabbed my phone with trembling hands. “Ma’am, do you have the father’s contact?”

My lips trembled as I gave her Ronan’s number.

He answered.

Not with concern.

Not with panic.

With rage.

“Aria, are you insane?!” he roared through the phone. “What did you do to Delilah? Her ankle is badly swollen—the doctor thinks it might be fractured! All because you shoved her!”

My entire body was shaking as I whispered, “I didn’t… She fell… on her own.”

“Oh, spare me that jealous nonsense!” he snapped. “You’re angry because she joked about being my wife? You actually took that seriously? It was obviously a joke!”

A joke?

My fingers dug into the sheets as tears finally broke free.

“Ronan… the baby—”

The line went dead.

I stared at the doctor, forcing a weak, broken smile through the pain.

“Please,” I whispered. “Forget the baby. Just… save me.”

“We’ll try,” the doctor said solemnly.

When I woke up, my body felt unbearably light.

Too light.

My stomach was flat.

A nurse approached quietly and handed me a small box. Inside lay what remained of my child—tiny, fragile, never given a chance to breathe under the moon.

I broke.

My sobs wracked my entire body, violent and uncontrollable. No physical wound hurt as much as this emptiness.

In the middle of my grief, the door burst open.

A man rushed in—tall, disheveled, his scent achingly familiar.

My brother.

Not by blood—but by choice, by loyalty, by every bond that truly mattered.

He crossed the room in seconds and pulled me into his arms, his voice rough with guilt. “I’m sorry… I should have come sooner.”

I pressed my face against his chest, unable to speak through the tears.

That same afternoon, he transferred me to a private hospital under his own name, shielding me from everything and everyone.

Before I left the city for good, I mailed that small box—the remains of the heir the Blackcliff family had wanted so desperately—to their estate.

Then I sent Ronan one final message.

We’re over.

I blocked his number. Deleted every trace of him. No hesitation.

From that moment on, Ronan Blackcliff ceased to exist in my world.

And he never would again.