Third Person’s POV

The evening sun dipped low, casting a golden glow across the dusty training field near the packhouse. Alpha Chester stood tall beside a polished black vehicle, his arms folded across his chest as he quietly observed Princess Stella, who sat stiffly in the driver’s seat, visibly tense.

“Take it easy,” Chester instructed, his tone steady yet commanding. “You need to feel the car’s rhythm—it’s not working against you.”

Stella clutched the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles had turned pale. “I swear, Alpha, this thing is a beast!” she exclaimed with a slight pout, glancing anxiously in his direction.

A faint smile curled Chester’s lips. “It’s just a machine, Princess. Treat it like you do everyone else—be confident and in control.”

Though visibly frustrated, Stella gave a small nod and hesitantly pressed the gas pedal. The car jerked forward, catching her off guard. She shrieked in alarm and yanked the wheel sharply, narrowly avoiding a large rock on the dirt path.

“Pay attention!” Chester barked, his hand hovering near the steering wheel, ready to take over if things got worse. “Keep your eyes forward!”

But fear overwhelmed Stella. When she spotted the towering tree straight ahead, her panic surged, and she froze. Her grip on the wheel tightened, and instead of hitting the brakes, she mistakenly slammed her foot down on the gas.

“Alpha!” she cried out, voice high with terror.

Chester cursed under his breath. Without hesitation, he lunged forward and grabbed the wheel. At the very last moment, rather than allowing the vehicle to crash head-on into the tree—which could’ve seriously harmed Stella—he turned the wheel abruptly.

Right toward Everett.

She had been standing just several feet away from the tree, unaware of the unfolding chaos. The screech of tires tearing across the dirt snapped her attention to the danger.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The vehicle hurtled toward her with frightening speed.

She didn’t even have time to scream before the impact struck, sending her body sailing through the air.

Blinding pain surged through her as she slammed into the earth. Her skull struck the ground with a sickening thud, but it was the violent, stabbing pain in her lower torso that left her gasping for air.

Blood.

She could feel it, warm and sticky, rapidly spreading beneath her. She instinctively moved trembling hands to her abdomen, dread building in her chest.

No.

This couldn’t be happening. Not again.

Even before the true depth of the pain settled in, she knew. She was losing her baby. Again.

A broken, muffled sob escaped her throat. Her breathing came in fast, uneven puffs. Inside her, her wolf whimpered faintly—powerless, crushed, unable to do anything.

Her vision began to dim, yet through the blur and spinning world, she could still see Chester’s form.

For a fleeting moment, relief sparked inside her.

But it vanished in an instant.

He wasn’t beside her. He hadn’t even glanced in her direction.

“Are you hurt, love?” Chester’s voice, soft and urgent, reached her ears—but it wasn’t meant for her.

He was crouched next to Stella, gently inspecting her arms for any cuts, his fingers brushing against her skin tenderly. Stella, who seemed barely scraped.

“Someone get the physician! She’s injured!” Chester shouted in panic.

Everett’s insides twisted. Injured? For minor cuts?

A bitter, broken sound left her lips—part sob, part laugh—as she stared in disbelief. Her entire body ached, her vision dimmed by pain, but she made herself watch him. Really see who he was.

This was the man she once gave everything to. The man she loved. The man she once trusted with her heart. And now he was comforting another, while she lay bleeding out alone.

Her wolf’s whine echoed again. But this time, it wasn’t merely from pain—it was from the sting of betrayal.

“Alpha!” another voice shouted—Beta Julian. He ran up, his face pale and stricken as he saw Everett lying in a pool of blood. “Alpha, Everett needs urgent help! She’s bleeding out—”

“Handle it,” Chester cut in coldly. His tone was sharp, dismissive. “I have more important things to deal with right now.”

He never even spared her a glance. In that moment, something inside Everett fractured—not just her body or her womb, but her very spirit. The part of her that had clung to the hope he might still care—died.

A sob clawed at her throat, but she forced it back down. She had shed enough tears over Chester. She had wasted enough of her soul on someone who never really saw her.

Her fingers quivered as she reached deep within herself, summoning what little strength she had left.

Her father.

As her mind began to slip and the world dimmed around her, she sent a desperate message through the pack bond, hoping—just hoping—he would hear it.

“Dad… I was wrong about you. I regret believing their lies. I should’ve known better… If only I had more time, I would spend it with you.”

In her final conscious thoughts, she felt a fleeting warmth, as if her father's presence answered from afar. But she knew it wouldn’t be enough.

“I’m sorry… I don’t think I’ll get the chance to see you again.”

Third Person’s POV

The packhouse was cloaked in an unsettling stillness as Alpha Chester returned, his steps echoing in the silence. Though the air was still saturated with the familiar scent of his dominance, something felt wrong—off-kilter. It didn’t take him long to pinpoint the absence that irked him: Everett’s scent. It was missing, like a melody gone silent. His brow furrowed as he walked into the bedroom they once shared, expecting her to be curled up in the blankets—vulnerable, broken, and where he believed she belonged. But the bed remained untouched, the covers smooth and undisturbed.

She wasn’t there.

Chester’s teeth ground together, annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. He would address her disobedience later. At the moment, more pressing matters demanded his attention.

He released a breath of irritation, turning toward the sturdy wooden dresser. With a swift pull, he opened a drawer and reached inside, his hand seeking out a velvet box that housed a necklace meant for Stella. She had complained once more about wanting new jewelry, and Chester, eager to quiet her constant demands, had intended to give her the piece that very night. But instead of the soft touch of velvet, his fingers brushed against a rigid edge.

A folder.

His expression darkened with curiosity as he pulled it out and flipped it open. Sharp golden eyes scanned the document inside—and then his body stiffened.

It was a medical report.

A pregnancy confirmation.

Chester’s grip on the paper tightened as he devoured the information with growing disbelief. The date was recent. Only a few days old. Everett had been pregnant. Again.

A savage curse slipped from his lips as he crumpled the paper in his fist. No. She couldn’t be allowed to keep this child. He had already taken measures to ensure their first child would never see the world. There was no room for mistakes. Not now.

His breaths came harder and faster, chest heaving. He had controlled everything—her place, her behavior, her silence. He had manipulated her world so she would never rise above what he deemed her worth. And yet, behind his back, she had dared to carry his child? Without telling him?

Fury roared through him like wildfire. She had to return. Immediately.

He yanked out his phone, fingers dialing her number with force.

Ring.

Ring.

No answer.

A low growl vibrated in his chest. He redialed. Still nothing.

Snarling, Chester switched to a different number, calling a healer from the western territories—someone Everett had known and visited in the past. When the call connected, a soft yet wary voice greeted him.

“Alpha Chester, good evening.”

“Where is she?” he demanded, his tone sharp and unrelenting.

A pause.

“Are you asking about Everett?”

“No, the Moon Goddess herself,” he snapped, the sarcasm sharp. “Of course, Everett! Get her on the line. Immediately.”

Another beat of hesitation. Then the healer replied, voice shaky, “Alpha… she was here. She arrived about thirty minutes ago and was resting in the ward. But when I went to check a few minutes ago… she was gone.”

Chester’s jaw locked, the muscles twitching in his fury.

“Gone?” he echoed coldly.

“I-I don’t understand it myself,” the healer stammered. “She was there… I swear. But now the bed’s empty.”

Chester’s snarl was deep and vicious, barely contained. His wolf paced under his skin, furious and wild.

Everett had vanished? That wasn’t acceptable.

He inhaled deeply, trying to maintain control. “The pregnancy report I found—was it accurate?” he asked, voice low and dangerous. “She really is pregnant?”

The silence that followed was telling.

“She hadn’t told you yet?” the healer finally asked.

Chester said nothing. He didn’t need to. The answer was written in the silence.

“Yes, Alpha. Everett’s pregnancy was confirmed last week. And… the baby is doing well.”

Those words hit him like a punch to the gut.

His child. Another heir. Alive.

No. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. Not again.

Before he could speak, the healer continued, almost too casually, “I assumed she had told you by now. About the pregnancy. And… that her hearing returned.”

Chester’s heart missed a beat. “What did you just say?”

“She regained her hearing. It happened about seven days ago. You weren’t aware?”

The world tilted beneath Chester’s feet.

She could hear.

For an entire week.

The weight of realization crashed into him with bone-shattering force. Everett had heard everything. Every cruel dismissal. Every cold word he’d thrown at her. Every affectionate whisper meant for Stella while Everett had been bleeding out just feet away.

His throat went dry. It wasn’t just the pregnancy.

That wasn’t the end of it.

As if fate decided to add insult to injury, the television mounted on the wall flickered to life. The screen filled the room with the drone of a news broadcast. Chester barely acknowledged it—until a headline blazed across the screen in bold letters.

PRINCESS Everett IN CRITICAL CONDITION FOLLOWING SHOCKING ACCIDENT

His lungs locked. His pulse thundered in his ears.

His gaze snapped to the screen.

A hospital bed. A young woman lying still, unconscious, hooked up to machines. Her long dark hair fanned across the pillow. Her pale face etched with pain.

Everett?

No. It couldn’t be.

Everett was an omega. She had no royal lineage.

But the face on the screen…

The resemblance was uncanny.

Too uncanny.

And her name—

Everett.