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.'

The Skyler Pack stood before me, a sea of judgmental faces, their gazes sharp with disgust. My body was stiff, my nails digging into my palms as the elders delivered their verdict.

“You are hereby exiled from the Skyler Pack, Cheryl.” The elder’s voice rang through the hall like a final nail in a coffin.

I swallowed hard, refusing to let them see the fear clawing at my chest. I wouldn’t beg. I wouldn’t plead for a place among people who had already discarded me. I lifted my chin, staring at them defiantly.

“Fine,” I said, my voice stronger than I felt. “You can have your pack. I never belonged here anyway.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, but before I could turn to leave, a deep, firm voice cut through the tension.

“No.”

Vander stood tall beside me. His presence was a force of its own, commanding attention, demanding respect. His silver eyes burned with something fierce, something protective.

“This is wrong,” Vander said, his voice steady. “You’re casting her out based on nothing but rumors and lies. If this is how the Skyler Pack treats its Luna, then maybe it’s not worth being part of at all.”

Luther’s face darkened. “This is not your concern, Vander.”

Vander let out a cold chuckle. “Not my concern? She carries my child.” His words echoed through the room like a storm breaking.

Gasps filled the space. Whispers spread like wildfire.

Luther’s hands curled into fists. “You expect me to believe that?”

I felt the weight of every stare, the pressure closing in on me, but I met Luther’s gaze without flinching. “Believe what you want,” I said. “But you lost the right to question me the moment you left me to rot.”

Luther took a step forward, fury burning in his eyes, but before he could speak, the elder cleared his throat, regaining control of the room.

“Regardless of who the father is,” the elder said, his voice neutral, “there is a law that cannot be ignored.”

A silence settled over the room. My stomach twisted.

“The child of an Alpha belongs to the pack. Whether you are exiled or not, Cheryl, once you give birth, the heir must be brought back.”

My heart stilled. No.

This couldn’t be happening.

I had lied to protect my child, to sever my ties with the Skyler Pack. But now—now I was bound to them in a way I couldn’t escape.

Luther’s lips curled into a smirk. “Looks like you can’t run, Cheryl.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to fight, to deny it, but I had already claimed Vander as the father. There was no way out of this.

Vander’s hand found mine, his touch grounding me. “We’re leaving,” he said, his voice final. “And no one will come near her without going through me.”

The elders said nothing, but their silence was an answer in itself.

For now, I was free. But not for long.

Weeks have passed.

I had left the Skyler Pack behind, settling in a quiet town miles away. I told myself it was a fresh start. A new beginning.

But the past followed me like a shadow.

Everywhere I went, there were whispers. The small town wasn’t as disconnected from pack politics as I had hoped. My name was on everyone’s lips.

“She was thrown out of her own pack.”

“She cheated on her mate with his stepbrother.”

“She’s nothing but a disgrace.”

Catherine made sure my name was dirt. I could hear her voice in the rumors, the way she twisted the truth to paint herself as the victim and me as the villain.

“She’s a whore,” someone muttered as I passed.

I clenched my fists but kept walking.

They didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know what I had endured.

But it didn’t matter. The world had already decided who I was.

I kept my head down, focusing on work, trying to survive. I worked at a small café, blending into the background, avoiding unnecessary attention. But even here, the whispers followed.

I caught people staring. Judging. I pretended not to care, but every glance was a dagger, every hushed conversation another wound.

The worst part? I was alone.

Vander had promised to stand by me, and he did, but his responsibilities kept pulling him away. He had his own pack, his own problems. He couldn’t always be here, protecting me.

I had to be strong.

But strength didn’t stop the nightmares. The fear.

One evening, as I walked home from the café, a chill crept down my spine. The feeling of being watched.

I glanced over my shoulder.

Two men. Strangers. They didn’t move, but I felt their eyes on me.

My pulse quickened. I gripped my coat tighter, my fingers trembling.

They didn’t follow, but I knew better than to ignore my instincts.

I reached my apartment, locked the door behind me, and exhaled.

It’s fine. I’m imagining things. I turned—and froze.

A letter sat on the floor, just inside my door.

My blood ran cold. I hadn’t heard anyone slide it under.

With shaking hands, I picked it up, unfolding the paper.

Only one sentence was written.

[Return before the birth, or we will take the child ourselves.]

I dropped the letter, my breath coming fast.

They were watching me. They were waiting.

And no matter where I ran, they would find me.

My stomach twisted in fear, my hand instinctively pressing against my belly.

They weren’t going to let me go. I wasn’t free.

I was trapped. And this time—there was no way out.