Chapter 6

Elara POV:

The heavy oak door of the Alpha's house swung open before I even touched it. I had just concluded my meeting with the Silver Moon envoy, a silent warrior who had confirmed my transport was ready. My heart was a cold, hard stone in my chest.

Lyra was waiting for me in the living room. She was lounging on the velvet sofa as if it were her throne, one leg casually crossed over the other. The pup was nowhere in sight.

She gestured to a set of official-looking papers on the coffee table. "The Elders have drawn up the documents," she said, her voice smooth as honey laced with poison. "All it needs is your signature. I thought I'd save you the trip."

I let out a small, humorless laugh. "You seem to be in a hurry."

Her mask of civility cracked. "He's mine, Elara. You're just dragging this out. What do you want? Money? A house on the edge of the territory? Name your price."

I walked closer, my eyes fixed on the papers. I picked them up, my fingers tracing the embossed seal of the Bloodstone Pack. "You seem to have forgotten something, Lyra. A rather important piece of ancient pack law."

She frowned, her confidence wavering for the first time. "What are you talking about?"

"The law is clear," I said, my voice quiet but firm. It was a lesson my mother, a true Luna, had taught me long ago. "During a mate's pregnancy, the male has no right to initiate a rejection. It is forbidden by the Goddess herself. Unless," I paused, letting the word hang in the air, "the female agrees to it."

Her face went pale. She had no idea. This rogue, who knew only the law of survival, was ignorant of the sacred traditions that held our world together.

I watched the shock and fury war in her eyes. Then, with a flick of my wrist, I picked up the pen from the table. The ink flowed smoothly as I signed my name, Elara Silvermoon, on the line designated for the female mate. My handwriting was firm, without a single tremor.

I tossed the pen down. "There. He's all yours. I don't want him."

The rage in her eyes exploded. With a guttural snarl, she lunged at me. Her hand cracked across my face, the force of the blow sending a ringing sound through my skull.

"You bitch!" she screamed. "You pathetic, rejected Omega!"

I stumbled backward, my balance thrown off. The sharp corner of the heavy oak coffee table dug cruelly into my side, right where my belly was just beginning to swell. A blinding, searing pain shot through me. It felt like my insides were being torn apart. I gasped, my hand flying to my stomach, a sudden, terrifying wetness spreading through my dress.

My baby. Oh, Goddess, my baby.

Lyra saw the blood. A flicker of pure, calculated evil crossed her face. In a movement so swift I almost missed it, she snatched her own pup from its bassinet in the corner, and with a horrifying lack of care, tossed the infant onto the thick, plush rug on the floor.

The pup, startled and unharmed by the soft landing, let out a piercing wail.

Lyra immediately threw herself to the floor, scooping the crying baby into her arms. "My baby! My baby!" she shrieked, her voice a symphony of fake hysteria.

At that exact moment, the front door burst open. Damien stood there, his eyes wide.

"She tried to kill him!" Lyra sobbed, pointing a shaking finger at me. "Elara pushed me! She tried to kill my son out of jealousy!"

Damien's gaze fell on Lyra, clutching her screaming child, and then to me, collapsed against the table, with blood blooming on my dress.

He didn't hesitate. He didn't ask a single question.

Without a single glance in my direction, he scooped Lyra's pup into his arms and sprinted out of the house, shouting for the Healer. He never even saw me slide to the floor, a pool of my own blood spreading around me, the life of his true heir draining away.