Chapter 4 Chapter 4

SERAPHINA'S POV:

The human hospital was sterile and smelled of antiseptic, a stark contrast to the earthy scents of the pack. A tired-looking doctor stitched the gash on my forehead, his touch impersonal and blessedly ignorant of the war raging inside me.

As I waited, my phone buzzed. It was a notification from the 'PackNet,' the secret news network for our kind. The headline was a blast of pure poison:

"Bloodmoon's Disgraced Luna Rejects Alpha After Rogue Tryst Revealed. Sources Confirm Omega Carried Illegitimate Pup."

They were painting me as the villain, the adulterer. They had twisted my act of liberation into a confession of guilt. The lies spread faster than fire.

Before I could even process the fresh wave of betrayal, the door to my private room burst open. A woman with Kaelen's sharp cheekbones and cold, blue eyes stormed in. It was his mother, Elara, the pack's formidable female elder. I recognized her immediately from the one time we'd met, her eyes filled with the same disdain for my supposed Omega blood.

Her hand cracked across my face before I could react. The force of the blow snapped my head to the side, my cheek stinging.

"You filthy whore," she hissed, her voice low and vibrating with fury. "You have brought nothing but shame to my son and this pack. You dare to carry a Rogue's filth in your womb and try to pass it off as Bloodmoon blood?"

She didn't wait for an answer. Two hulking pack warriors grabbed my arms, their grips like iron. They moved with the chilling efficiency of wolves among sheep, a low growl and a flash of their eyes enough to paralyze the human staff with primal fear. They dragged me from the hospital without anyone daring to intervene.

They took me to the pack's place of punishment-a stone chamber deep beneath the Alpha's house. The walls were not bare stone. They were inlaid with intricate patterns of pure silver.

The moment I was shoved inside, my skin began to burn. Silver is anathema to us, a substance that sears our flesh and unravels our healing abilities. The air itself felt corrosive, making it hard to breathe. They forced me to my knees on the cold, silver-etched floor. The pain was immediate and excruciating, like kneeling on hot coals.

Through the mind-link, I felt Elara connect with her son. Her thoughts were a torrent of rage. "I have the Omega bitch in the Silver Cell. She has disgraced our name!"

I tried to scream, to send my own thoughts, to tell Kaelen the truth. "Kaelen, it's a lie! She's lying! Help me!"

His voice, when it finally came, was not a rescue. It was a placating whisper, meant only for me, his thoughts distracted and frayed as he dealt with the fallout of the party. "Just be patient, Seraphina. Let my mother vent her anger. I will make it up to you later. I promise."

He thought this was just a punishment for the public scene. He had no idea. He didn't believe me. He was letting this happen.

The door slammed shut, plunging me into semi-darkness. Hours passed. The silver burned my knees, my hands, anywhere my skin touched the floor. The heat in the room was unbearable, a dry, suffocating heat that leached the strength from my body.

Then, a sharp, twisting cramp seized my lower abdomen. It was a pain far worse than the silver. I looked down. A dark stain was spreading across the light fabric of my dress.

Blood.

"No," I whimpered, the sound swallowed by the stone walls. "No, no, please no."

I hammered on the heavy wooden door, my fists raw. "Help! Please, help me! The pup! It's your son's pup!"

From the other side, Elara's voice was like ice. "A Rogue's bastard is better off not being born. Let it burn out of you."

Then, silence. She was gone.

I was alone. The cramps intensified, coming in waves, each one a brutal attempt to expel the tiny life from my body. I writhed on the floor, the silver searing my skin as I bled, the life I had fought so hard to protect slipping away. I cried until my throat was raw, and then I had no more strength to cry. I lay in a pool of my own blood and despair, and eventually, the world faded to black.

I woke up on the cold, metal table of the Healer's room. The pack warriors had brought me here. Elias, the Healer, stood over me, his face a mask of grim resignation. There was no need for the silver scalpel this time. It was too late.

I felt a dull, empty ache inside me. A hollowness where that tiny flicker of life had been. My pup was gone.

A final, faint whisper touched my mind. It was Kaelen.

"I'm sorry you were treated so harshly. You've been through a lot. Rest now."

He was still placating me. Still treating me like a naughty child who had been disciplined. He had no idea what his mother, his pack, and his own callousness had truly cost me.

A single tear, the very last one I would ever shed for him, slid down my cheek. The love was gone. The hope was gone. The pain was all that remained.

And in that absolute, soul-crushing emptiness, something new was born. A cold, hard fury.

I gathered the last remnants of my strength, the dormant power of my ancient bloodline. I opened my mouth and let out a sound I had not made since I was a child. It was not a scream of pain.

It was a howl.

A long, clear, and piercing wail tore through the sky, echoing beyond the borders of the Blood Moon Domain. It was the dying cry of the White Wolf-a sacred summons audible only to those of the highest and most ancient bloodlines.

It was a call for my family. A call for my clan. A call for retribution.