"That ring," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the baby's soft whimpering. “Really looks familiar.”
But that wasn’t the end, it was the flash of gold around the infant's tiny wrist that made my knees nearly buckle. A delicate chain bracelet with small daisy charms—the exact same limited-edition piece Vincent had given me for my birthday last year. The same bracelet he'd said was one of only three in existence worldwide.
The same bracelet I'd treasured as proof of his thoughtfulness, his love.
A sharp, stabbing pain shot through my abdomen, so sudden and intense that I had to grip the edge of the podium to keep from doubling over. The twins—my secret, my hope, my future—seemed to recoil inside me, as if they too could sense the betrayal unfolding around us.
"Constance?" Vincent's voice cut through my shock, but when I looked up at him, I saw no concern in his eyes. Only irritation. "Are you alright?"
I straightened slowly, one hand instinctively moving to my still-flat stomach. "That bracelet," I said, my voice growing stronger. "The one on the baby's wrist. Where did you get it?"
Vincent's jaw tightened, and I saw something flicker across his face—guilt, perhaps, or just annoyance at being questioned. "Does it matter? It's just a piece of jewelry."
"Just a piece of jewelry?" The words came out sharper than I intended, carrying across the ballroom's sound system. "You told me it was limited edition. One of only three in existence. You said it was special, just for me."
Sandra shifted the baby in her arms, and I caught the way her lips curved into the faintest smile. Not embarrassed, not apologetic—satisfied.
"Constance," Vincent said, his voice dropping to a low hiss as he stepped closer to me. His fingers wrapped around my wrist with surprising force, his grip tight enough to leave marks. "You're making a scene."
The pain in my abdomen intensified, a cramping sensation that made me gasp. The babies could feel my distress, my heart rate spiking with each revelation. I tried to pull away from Vincent's grip, but he held firm.
"Let go of me," I said quietly, but he only tightened his hold.
"Listen to me," he whispered, his face inches from mine, his Alpha authority pressing down like a weight. "You need to calm down and handle this with grace. A proper Luna doesn't throw tantrums in front of the entire pack."
His words hit me like a slap. A proper Luna. As if I hadn't spent seven years proving myself worthy of that title. As if I hadn't poured my heart, my skills, my very soul into this pack and this man.
"Handle what with grace?" I asked, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "Your affair? Your child? Or the fact that you've been lying to me for months?"
Vincent's eyes flashed dangerously. "It's not what you think. Sandra needed help, and I provided it as her Alpha. If you can't understand that, if you're too jealous and petty to see the bigger picture, then maybe you're not ready to be Luna after all."
The murmur of voices from the audience grew louder, and I caught fragments of whispered conversations. Elder Malcolm's voice carried clearly over the others: "Always knew she wasn't suitable. Too emotional, too common."
Another elder chimed in with barely concealed glee: "A real Luna would handle this with dignity. This outburst just proves what we've always said about her breeding."
The neighboring pack representatives exchanged shocked glances, some looking horrified at the public spectacle, others leaning forward with the fascination of witnessing a complete social disaster. Alpha Morrison from the River Valley Pack shook his head in disgust, while Luna Catherine covered her mouth in apparent dismay.
Sandra chose that moment to step forward, her expression a perfect mask of concern. "Please don't blame Alpha Vincent," she said, her voice carrying just the right note of martyred nobility. "I never meant for any of this to come out tonight. I just wanted to thank him for all his kindness during such a difficult time in my life."
She bounced the baby gently, and he gurgled, his tiny fist waving in the air. The sound was innocent, pure—and it cut through me like a blade.
"Kindness," I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. Another cramp seized my abdomen, and I pressed my lips together to keep from crying out. The twins were reacting to my stress, my heartbreak, my rage.
I looked at Vincent—really looked at him. The man I had loved for seven years, the man I had given everything to, the man whose children I was secretly carrying. His face was set in hard lines, his eyes cold and dismissive. There was no apology there, no regret, no love.
Only the expectation that I would swallow this humiliation and smile.
The ballroom fell into an expectant hush as I slowly, deliberately, reached for my left hand. The engagement ring—the supposedly unique, custom-designed symbol of Vincent's love—felt heavy on my finger. I twisted it once, twice, feeling the smooth metal slide against my skin.
Then I pulled it off.
The silence was deafening as I held the ring up, letting the light catch the diamond one last time. Vincent's eyes widened, and for the first time since this nightmare began, I saw genuine alarm cross his features.
"Constance, don't—"
"Don't what?" I interrupted, my voice carrying clearly through the ballroom's sound system as I stepped closer to the microphone. "Don't embarrass you? Don't make a scene? Don't react like a human being who's just discovered her entire life has been a lie?"
I held out the ring toward him, my hand perfectly steady despite the chaos in my heart. "I believe this belongs to you. Or perhaps to Sandra, since she seems to have the matching set."
Vincent's face flushed red, but he made no move to take the ring. The audience was completely silent now, hundreds of pairs of eyes fixed on this public dissolution of what should have been a sacred bond.
I turned to face the crowd, my chin held high, my voice clear and strong. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm afraid there's been a change of plans tonight."
The microphone amplified my words, carrying them to every corner of the grand ballroom. I could see the shock on faces throughout the audience, the way some leaned forward in their seats, hungry for drama, while others looked genuinely distressed.
"The marking ceremony is canceled," I announced, my tone as calm and composed as if I were discussing the weather. "It seems our Alpha already has a family to attend to, and I wouldn't want to interfere with such a beautiful arrangement."
I paused, letting my gaze sweep across the crowd before settling on Vincent and Sandra. The baby had gone quiet in her arms, as if even he could sense the gravity of the moment.
"I'd like to congratulate Vincent and Sandra on their double blessing," I continued, my voice dripping with icy politeness. "A new relationship and a beautiful son. How wonderfully convenient that it all worked out so well."
The ring slipped from my fingers, hitting the marble stage with a sharp, metallic ping that echoed through the silent ballroom like a gunshot.
