Alicia’s POV

I met Stephen years ago, when he was still only the heir to the Alpha throne. That night at the banquet, surrounded by glittering gowns, heavy crowns, and the scent of power, he stood out to me like the moon in a dark sky. He wasn’t my fated mate—my wolf never howled at the sight of him, never tugged at my chest the way legends said she should—but he looked at me as if I were already his.

And when he came to me, when his voice wrapped around me like velvet, I believed every word he whispered.

“You may not be my fated one, Alicia,” he had said that night, his hand brushing mine beneath the tablecloth. “But I will love you like you are. I’ll make vows stronger than any string of destiny. I’ll never lie to you, never break your heart. You will be my Luna, my only one.”

All those promises. All those sacred words. And now, they were nothing but ashes.

That morning, I woke feeling sick. My head throbbed, and my body felt heavy as if my wolf was curled deep inside me, refusing to stir. Three weeks into the pregnancy, my body was already shifting, straining to hold the tiny life growing inside me. My schedule for a checkup had arrived, and I knew I couldn’t delay.

When Stephen—no, William—came to check on me, his eyes softened. “How’s the pup doing?” he asked, crouching down beside the bed. His voice was tender, gentle. Too gentle.

“I feel… weak,” I admitted, pressing a hand to my belly. “I need to go to the hospital.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” he said quickly, almost too quickly. His hand covered mine. “You’re carrying my brother’s heir. The next Alpha. I will not let anything happen to you.”

For a heartbeat, my wolf stirred. For a heartbeat, I wanted to believe him.

But then the doors creaked open.

Sophia entered, draped in pale silks that made her look fragile, almost ethereal. She swayed as she walked, her hand pressed against her forehead, lips trembling as if each breath was too heavy to bear. “Alpha…” she whispered, her voice weak, thin, calculated.

I stiffened.

Stephen’s attention snapped to her instantly, the warmth in his gaze toward me evaporating like mist under the sun. “Sophia,” he said, rushing to her side before I could even process it. His hand caught her elbow, steadying her as though she were the most precious thing in the world. “What’s wrong?”

She blinked up at him, pale cheeks flushed with just the right amount of color. “I… I don’t feel well. I think… I might collapse.”

For a fleeting second, his gaze flickered toward me. Something unreadable flashed in his eyes, hesitation, guilt, maybe even sorrow. But it was gone in an instant.

Sophia whimpered, leaning more heavily against him. “Alpha, please… don’t leave me. I feel like something is wrong.”

His arm wrapped around her, shielding her from a pain she probably didn’t even carry. And then his words came, sharp, cold, final.

“I’ll take Sophia to the hospital first. You can manage your checkup without me. You understand, don’t you?”

In the end, I went to the hospital alone. My legs shook beneath me as I walked the sterile halls, my wolf pacing restlessly in my chest, snarling at his abandonment. The nurse led me into the ultrasound room, and when the grainy image of my child flickered on the screen, tears spilled from my eyes.

A tiny bean. So small. So fragile. But alive.

My heart swelled with a love so fierce it nearly broke me in two.

Later, I sat in the hospital lounge, staring blankly at the television. A concert blared across the screen, music vibrating through the speakers. I found myself humming softly, trying to distract my wolf from the gnawing ache in my chest.

And then the camera panned to the audience. To the couples swaying hand in hand, faces lit with joy.

My humming died.

My eyes narrowed, my breath catching.

There they were. Stephen and Sophia. Featured as a couple, spotlight and a camera were pointing at them.

Then they tried to cover their faces, as if the cameras wouldn’t notice. But I noticed. The way his hand lingered on her back, the way her head tilted toward his shoulder.

I couldn’t believe it.

Sophia wasn’t sick. She was dancing. Smiling. Enjoying the world while I sat in a cold hospital chair with his heir growing inside me.

My stomach churned. Rage and grief mixed in my veins until I could barely breathe.

Hours later, on the drive back to the pack, my phone buzzed. A message. From Sophia.

I hesitated before opening it, but curiosity clawed me open.

It was a picture.

Her in the backseat of a car. Stephen’s arm wrapped around her waist, her head on his lap, both of them flushed and tired but glowing from joy.

My chest constricted as though claws had raked through it. My wolf howled in agony, her voice breaking into a thousand shards.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, stifling a scream.

When I reached the packhouse, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I called him. Desperately. My fingers shook, my wolf crying out to him.

Pick up. Please, pick up. I’ll forgive you. Just tell me it’s not true. Just tell me you’re mine. I’ll give you another chance. Moon Goddess, I’ll give him a thousand chances if he just comes back.

And then—he answered.

My breath hitched in relief. But what I heard shattered me beyond repair.

Moans. Soft, breathless, intimate sounds. A woman’s laughter. A man’s groan.

“Stephen,” Sophia’s voice gasped, raw and unrestrained.

The call ended.

And so did my world.

That night, I didn’t change out of my pajamas. I didn’t think. I simply walked back to the hospital, numb, my wolf silent and broken inside me. At the counter, my voice came out hoarse.

“I want to abort the pup,” I whispered. “Three weeks old.”

---

When morning came, I returned to the packhouse hollow, my body aching from sleeplessness. He was waiting at the table, a plate of breakfast prepared.

“Alicia,” Stephen—William—smiled. “I made your favorite. You should eat. For the baby.”

I walked past him without a word.

But his hand caught my elbow. The same hand that had touched Sophia, held her waist, stroked her skin. My stomach turned.

“You need to take care of yourself,” he said softly. “You’re carrying my brother’s heir. The future Alpha.”

I yanked my arm away, bile rising in my throat. “Don’t touch me.”

I climbed the stairs, my steps heavy, only to stop at the sight before me.

Sophia.

She stood there, radiant, glowing in full glamor. No trace of illness in her skin, no fragility in her stance. She was dressed as though she were the Luna already, basking in stolen glory.

She smirked when she saw me.

“You know, I purposely sent you that picture,” she said lightly, walking closer. “I wanted you to see it. I also answered Stephen’s phone that night. I wanted you to hear.”

My wolf snarled, but my body was frozen.

She leaned close, her perfume choking me. “I’m not sick, Alicia. I’ve never been dying. I faked it. I did it to get time with him, to make him mine again. And now, I will use every one of these months to seduce him, to mark him. To bind him to me forever.”

My vision blurred with tears. “You’re lying.”

She laughed, cruel and sharp. “Am I? He’s already married to me. Look.”

And she held up her hand. On her finger gleamed a moonstone ring. Larger, brighter, more extravagant than the one Stephen had meant for me.

“This is better, don’t you think?” she whispered. “After all, Stephen was always mine. And he always will be.”

Alicia’s POV

The invitation came on heavy parchment, sealed with silver wax stamped in the ancient crest of the Lycans. My hands trembled when I held it. The Lycans were the most elusive of our kind, rare, powerful, ancient. They did not mingle, they did not host, they did not waste their time on gatherings. For centuries they had kept to their own kind, observing us from a distance.

And yet, here was an invitation.

I knew why. The Thorndike Pack, my father’s pack, had always maintained a careful, respectful alliance with them. And as his daughter, I was expected to appear.

Still, my wolf stirred uneasily when I thought of it. Because I knew Stephen—William—would be there. The Alpha of Varrenhare Pack could hardly ignore such a summons, and of course he would drag Sophia to his side, playing the role of the doting husband.

My wolf snarled in my chest.

That night, I slipped into a gown unlike anything I had worn since Stephen’s death—or supposed death. Midnight silk clung to my body like water, hugging my curves, the back plunging low to reveal smooth skin that shimmered in moonlight.

The Lycans’ gathering was held in a great hall carved from stone, torches casting silver flames along the walls. Their aura filled the air, ancient, heavy, suffocating. Wolves hushed in reverence as the Lycans moved, silent and poised, their eyes glowing faintly even in human form.

When I entered, heads turned. My wolf lifted her chin, and I did the same.

I felt his eyes before I saw him.

Stephen.

His jaw slackened, his eyes drinking me in as if I had stolen the air from his lungs. For a heartbeat, the mask of “William” slipped, and I saw him—my Alpha, the one who had once promised to love me like fate itself.

Then Sophia’s hand curled around his arm, her lips trembling, her body pressing into his as if she were too weak to stand. The lie was disgusting, but he let it hold him. He didn’t move toward me.

I tore my gaze away.

The night proceeded with the usual pleasantries, exchanging words of respect, bowing heads to the Lycans who rarely showed themselves. But as with all wolf gatherings, tradition demanded more than pleasantries.

Two Alphas stepped forward to duel. They shed their clothes and shifted into massive wolves, snarls shaking the hall as their paws scraped the stone. Excitement rippled through the crowd, and the bidding began.

Wolves wagered gold, furs, jewels. Betas pushed forward heirlooms, warriors placed blades. Voices rose in a frenzy of competition.

And then my voice cut through them.

“I will bid,” I said.

All eyes turned to me.

From my clutch, I pulled it out—the bloodstained moonstone ring. The ring that Stephen had meant to give me the night of the cliff. The one I had found lying in blood, pressed against my palm as I wept.

Gasps echoed through the hall.

“This,” I said, holding it high, my voice steady though my chest ached. “The engagement ring of my deceased fiancé. The Alpha who was meant to be my mate. I offer this to the fight.”

The weight of my words sank into the silence. I felt Stephen’s eyes on me, burning, his fury trembling through the bond we once shared.

I didn’t care.

I placed the ring on the table for the weaker Alpha. The crowd roared in disbelief. To wager something so precious on someone destined to lose was madness. And that was the point.

The fight began, claws clashing, fur bristling.

And as expected, the weaker Alpha fell. The crowd erupted, the victor howled, and my ring was claimed.

I smiled. Chin high, heart bleeding, I turned and walked away.

The air shifted. He was there, blocking my path. Stephen—William—his face hard, his eyes blazing.

“Why did you do that?” he demanded. His voice was low, strained. “That was my brother’s ring. The symbol of his promise to you. How could you throw it away?”

I looked at him coldly, my wolf steady. “Because I’ve moved on. Your brother is dead. His promises are buried with him. The ring means nothing now.”

His mouth opened, but no words came. For once, Stephen Varrenhare—the Alpha who always had an answer—was speechless.

I left him standing there.

But Sophia didn’t let me leave.

She caught me in the hallway, fury twisting her perfect features. “You bitch,” she hissed, shoving me hard against the wall. “You think you’re so clever? Acting like some sorrowful widow in front of everyone. Stealing their pity, their eyes.”

Her nails dug into my arm as she pushed me into a darkened room. The door slammed shut, the lock clicked.

The darkness closed in. No light. No air. No escape.

My chest tightened, panic clawing up my throat. Memories flooded back—ten-year-old me locked in the cellar, it was all hazy, scratching at the walls until my hands bled, screaming for someone who never came.

“No… no!” I gasped, clawing at the door. My wolf thrashed, but the walls closed tighter. The air vanished. The darkness swallowed me whole.

I collapsed.

When they found me nearly an hour later, I was limp on the floor, breath shallow, my dress damp with sweat.

And Stephen? Not a single call. Not a single message. Later I learned Sophia had told him I went out to grieve. And he believed her. Like an idiot.

---

When I returned to the packhouse, the sight that greeted me made my stomach lurch.

A crowd had gathered. Stephen’s parents, Sophia, and him. In the center stood Stephen, holding a set of papers.

My wolf bristled. Then I saw what they were.

Abortion documents.

My body froze.

“How dare you,” Stephen snarled, his eyes blazing. “How dare you destroy the heir of my brother?”

Laughter bubbled bitter in my chest. It was ridiculous. Even now? He was still pretending? Still clinging to this pathetic ‘William’ lie?

Sophia stepped forward, venom dripping from her lips. “You vile woman. You murdered an innocent pup. You never wanted that baby. You just wanted the excuse to play the grieving widow.”

My would-be mother-in-law’s hand cracked across my cheek. “Murderer!” she spat.

The room spun. The betrayal cut deeper than claws.

And then, Stephen’s hand followed. His slap resounded in the silence, and my head snapped to the side.

The sting burned, but my wolf didn’t whimper.

I straightened slowly, tasting blood on my lip. “Why are you so affected, William? Why do you care so much for a child that was never yours? You’re not my alpha. You’re not my fiancé. You’re nothing but his twin.”

His eyes blazed with denial, fury, pain he couldn’t hide.

I didn’t wait for his response. I turned to all of them—his mother, Sophia, the same people who judged me with sharp eyes.

“I am done,” I said coldly. “I want no ties to Varrenhare Pack. My love died with the bloody moonstone ring I wagered tonight. And with him, so did my heart.”

Silence fell. And I walked away.

Alicia’s POV

The sound of a knock pulled me out of my shallow sleep that night. My eyelids were heavy, raw from crying until dawn, but I sat up anyway. My wolf stirred faintly in my chest, restless, uncertain. The door creaked open before I could even answer.

“Licia,” a voice said, low and familiar.

It was William—or at least, that’s who I was supposed to believe he was. But my gut twisted every time I looked at him. His eyes didn’t carry the calm steadiness of William’s gaze. They burned too sharply, too much like Stephen.

He stepped into my chamber, his broad frame filling the doorway. He had the nerve to look weary, disheveled even, as if he were the one haunted by grief.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” he murmured, not meeting my eyes at first. His jaw clenched, his fists flexing at his sides. “I shouldn’t have… struck you. My anger got the best of me.”

I said nothing. My throat was still raw from swallowing back too many words.

He moved closer, voice low but clipped with controlled emotion. “I’m mourning the baby in my brother’s stead. You understand that, don’t you? Stephen would never want you to give up his pup. He would want me—his twin—to protect what’s his.”

My wolf bristled at the way he said protect. Protect? No. He was just lying before my face, even until now.

Still, I didn’t speak. I folded the blanket tighter around me and turned away, staring at the wall.

“Alicia,” he tried again, softer now, almost coaxing. “I regret it. You should rest.”

He reached forward, and before I could pull away, he tugged the blanket higher over me, tucking me in as though I were a fragile child. His hands lingered at the edge of the quilt.

“I heard you like it this way,” he said. His tone was oddly careful, as though he thought playing tender might erase the sting of his slap.

I bit down hard on my tongue until I tasted copper. He was still pretending. Pretending to be William. Pretending like he was dead. All for a damned woman.

When he finally left, the door clicked shut with a finality that made my chest ache. I lay awake for the rest of the night, staring into the dark, too numb even to cry.

The next morning, the walls of the pack house rattled with noise. I jolted awake to shouting, hurried footsteps, and the sound of Sophia’s sobs echoing down the corridor.

When I opened my door, I was met with accusing eyes. Wolf servants, warriors, even the elder maidens all stood gathered, whispering venom under their breaths.

“She burned them.”

“All of it—down to ash.”

“Even the rare herbs we struggled to find.”

My stomach dropped.

Sophia appeared then, draped in her pale robe, tears streaking down her face. She looked pitiful, like a wounded pup clinging to its mother. And yet, when her gaze met mine, there was a flicker, just a flicker, of triumph before she buried her face into the Alpha’s chest.

“She… I saw her,” Sophia wailed. Her voice cracked like that of a toddler’s tantrum. “I saw Alicia destroy my medicine with my own eyes.”

My lips parted in shock. “That’s a lie!” I shouted, but my voice was drowned by gasps, growls, and whispers.

The Luna mother turned on me, eyes wide with horror. “How could you? You attempted to end Sophia’s life by burning all her medicines? Evil child! Have you not done enough?”

Murderer. That was the word that floated around the hall. It clung to me like shackles.

I wanted to claw the truth out of Sophia’s throat. I wanted to scream until the roof caved in. But before I could, the Alpha—Stephen, wearing William’s name like a stolen pelt—raised his hand. The room fell silent.

His expression was grim, cold. “Lock her in her room. No food. No water.”

My wolf snarled in my chest, but I was frozen. Two servants grabbed my arms before I could move, their grips iron-strong.

Sophia’s sobbing grew louder, more dramatic. She clung tighter to him, shaking her head. “Please, Alpha… please don’t punish her. She’s grieving. She only lost her mate. She didn’t mean it. Don’t do this to her. I’m fine—we’ll find other herbs. Please, let her go.”

Her voice was gentle, saintly. The perfect act.

But Stephen’s jaw tightened. He looked down at her with mock concern, then back at me with stone eyes. “No, Sophia. Alicia must learn. Her behavior is dangerous, alarming. She wished to hasten your illness by destroying your medicines.”

My chest heaved with rage. “You liar!” I spat. “You know I didn’t touch them!”

“Take her,” he ordered.

I was dragged across the hall, kicking and thrashing, but the warriors were stronger. They slammed me into my chamber, locked the door, and left me in silence.

For two days, I had nothing. No food. No water. No one came.

The first night, I clawed at the door until my nails cracked. By the second, my throat was so parched I couldn’t scream anymore. My wolf whimpered inside me, weak from hunger.

I lay on the cold floor, trembling, seething. Tears burned hot down my cheeks.

I will make him pay.

I will make him feel tenfold the hunger, the helplessness, the rage he has made me feel.

It was the only thought that kept me alive.

On the second night, the lock clicked. The door creaked open.

Two wolf servants stood there, their faces stern. “Get up.”

I blinked at them, dazed. “What—”

“Alpha’s orders,” one said. “Sophia wants you to cook dinner.”

My body trembled as they dragged me down the corridor. My legs felt like sticks of brittle wood.

The kitchen reeked of firewood and raw meat. They shoved me toward the counter. “Cook,” they barked.

I swallowed hard. My stomach twisted painfully at the sight of food. My body wanted to collapse. But the warriors loomed close, ready to force me if I refused.

My hands shook as I picked up the knife, slicing vegetables, stirring broth. Every movement was heavy, hollow. The dishes I prepared were the ones I used to make for Stephen—meals he once praised with a smile that used to mean something.

Now, all I could taste was bitterness.

When the stew simmered and the roasted meat was plated, I caught my reflection in the pot’s surface. Hollow cheeks. Bloodshot eyes. A ghost of who I used to be.

And in that moment, I swore silently to myself:

This was not the end.

They could starve me, beat me, chain me. But I would not break.

And one day… he would learn what it meant to be locked in hunger.