Mira’s POV
Looking back now, I felt stupid. For years, I had believed Bianca, Samantha, and Cassandra genuinely cared about me.
Whenever they visited Windbloom Pack, they always seemed so friendly.
At first, I had even felt guilty toward them. After all, I was the one chosen to become Luna.
The Moon Goddess had blessed Alpha Dylan with four mates, yet only one could sit beside him as Luna. That woman had been me.
I remembered wondering if they hated me. Instead, they welcomed me with smiles.
Bianca often brought gifts from Heaven’s Path Pack. Samantha would tell me stories from her travels. And Cassandra…
My chest tightened.
Cassandra was the one who spent the most time with me. When the pregnancy became difficult, she practically moved into Windbloom territory.
She brought fresh fruits every morning. She helped arrange my pillows whenever my back hurt. She sat beside me for hours during the days when the nausea became unbearable.
Sometimes she even fed me herself.
“You need to eat, Mira.” I remembered her gently placing sliced fruit in front of me.
“The babies need nutrients.”
Back then, I thought she was being caring. Now I knew the truth. The babies were the reason.
I laughed bitterly.
The sound echoed through my empty bedroom.
The realization made every memory feel filthy.
Every act of kindness suddenly had strings attached. Every smile carried hidden intentions.
Every visit had a purpose. I wasn’t a friend.
I was an incubator. A convenient womb carrying what belonged to them.
Earlier, after leaving Dylan’s office, I had passed by one of the guest lounges.
The three women were there. Talking together. That was when an idea had formed in my mind.
So I had quietly left my spare phone underneath one of the couches. Then I called it using my main phone. Muted my side. And walked away.
Now, sitting alone in my room, I stared at my screen.
The call was still connected. Their voices flowed through the speaker.
I listened. And slowly felt my heart die all over again.
“Oh, I can’t wait.” The first voice belonged to Samantha.
“We’re finally meeting them soon.”
“I know.” That was Bianca.
“I wonder which one will look the most like Alpha Dylan.” A soft laugh followed.
Then Cassandra spoke. “I hope my baby gets my eyes.”
The three women giggled. My fingers tightened around the phone.
The conversation continued for several minutes. Then Cassandra suddenly asked a question.
One that made the room turn ice cold.
“So.”
A pause.
“Who do you think will be the next Luna?”
Bianca hummed thoughtfully. “What do you mean?”
Cassandra laughed. “Oh, come on.”
“We all know what’s going to happen.”
Another pause. Then she continued.
“For sure after giving birth she’ll look fat and haggard.”
My breath caught.
“Alpha Dylan hates that kind of body the most.”
The words stabbed deeper than they should have.
“For sure she’ll be abandoned after giving birth.”
Then Bianca laughed. “Probably.”
My eyes burned.
“Personally, I think it’ll be me.” There was confidence in Bianca’s voice. The kind of confidence that came from knowing she was desired.
“Heaven’s Path Pack is the strongest alliance among us.”
She sounded pleased with herself. “And Dylan likes my body the most.”
The women laughed again.
I felt sick.
Then Samantha immediately protested. “No way.”
“You wish.”
“What?” Bianca challenged.
Samantha scoffed. “Whoever gives him the baby boy will become Luna.”
“That’s how these things usually work.”
The conversation became playful. Almost like friends arguing over a prize.
Meanwhile, I sat frozen on my bed. My hand instinctively moved to my stomach.
There will be no heir.
The thought appeared suddenly.
Because these babies would never be born.
Slowly, I stood. The movement immediately made my back ache. Another lovely side effect of carrying triplets.
I walked toward the mirror. And stopped.
For several seconds, I simply stared.
The woman staring back barely looked familiar.
My face had become rounder. My waist had disappeared months ago. My ankles were swollen. My pregnancy dress stretched tightly across my enlarged stomach.
I remembered crying one night after trying on an old dress. It hadn’t fit anymore.
I had locked myself in the closet and stared at my reflection for nearly an hour.
Alpha Dylan had eventually found me. “What are you doing in here?”
I remembered looking away. “I look horrible.”
Immediately, he had wrapped his arms around me. Pulled me against his chest.
“You don’t.”
“I’ve gained so much weight.”
“So?”
“I don’t even recognize myself.”
He had kissed my forehead. Then my cheeks. Then my lips. Every touch had felt sincere.
“I love every version of you, Mira.”
My chest tightened painfully.
“I don’t care about your weight.”
Another kiss. “You’re carrying our babies.”
One more. “You’re beautiful.”
At the time, I had believed every word. Now I wanted to scream. Because it had all been fake.
The truth was much uglier. He wasn’t admiring his wife. He was protecting his surrogate. Protecting the vessel carrying children that belonged to another woman.
A sudden knock interrupted my thoughts. I quickly wiped my eyes.
The door opened. And the last person I wanted to see stepped inside.
Alpha Dylan.
The sight of him immediately made my stomach churn. He looked exactly the same. The same eyes that had looked me in the face and lied for years.
He carried a tray. A glass of milk. And a plate of my favorite cookies.
His smile softened when he saw me. “There you are.”
His voice was gentle. Every part of me hated that it still affected me.
“I was looking for you.” He walked toward me.
Holding out the tray. “Here.”
His smile widened. “I know you’ve been craving these.”
“Mira?”
I realized I had been staring.
His brows furrowed. Concern immediately appearing on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
I almost threw the documents in his face. Almost demanded answers. Almost asked him why.
Instead, I simply looked at him. Really looked at him.
And for the first time since becoming his Luna, I saw a stranger standing in front of me.
The mate bond should have comforted me. Instead, it made me want to scrub my skin raw.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
The smile immediately returned to his face.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.”
Exactly what a devoted husband would say.
But now I knew the truth. And the truth was far more horrifying than hatred.
Because Dylan didn’t hate me. He simply didn’t see me as a person at all.
