The weight of my pregnancy was nothing compared to the suffocating weight of betrayal. Every breath I took felt like a struggle, a battle against the rage simmering beneath my skin.
Lying in bed beside Dorian was a test of endurance. His arm draped over my waist, his body warm against mine, as if he hadn't shattered everything between us. I used to find comfort in his embrace—now, it made my stomach churn.
His scent, once intoxicating, now felt like poison seeping into my lungs.
I counted the days. Two. Maybe three. That was all I needed before I could finally sever this twisted bond.
As if sensing my revulsion, Dorian stirred, tightening his grip. His lips brushed against my shoulder. "How are my little warriors today?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
I swallowed back the bile rising in my throat. I couldn't even pretend anymore.
"They're restless," I replied flatly, shifting away from him.
He chuckled, oblivious. "Just like their father."
I forced myself to remain still as he pressed a kiss to my temple. Lies. All lies.
Morning came with a familiar, almost mocking ritual—breakfast in bed. Dorian carried in a tray with fresh fruit, warm pastries, and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, his golden eyes glowing with warmth.
"Good morning, my love," he murmured, setting the tray beside me. "I thought you could use a little pampering."
Once, this would have melted me. Now, it felt like a well-rehearsed act.
I forced a small smile and nodded, pushing a strawberry around my plate with a fork. "Thank you, Alpha."
He stiffened for the briefest second at my formal tone but recovered with a chuckle. "Come now, Luna. No need for titles between us."
I said nothing. Just watched him, trying to see through the facade.
A bouquet of white roses sat beside the tray, their scent delicate and sweet—just like the ones he used to send me when we were newly mated. How many times had he given Beatrice flowers like these?
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "The pups aren't giving you trouble, are they?"
"I'm fine," I replied, swinging my legs off the bed. "I have an appointment with the midwife today. I'll be out for a while."
He leaned in and kissed my forehead. "You're beautiful," he said, watching me expectantly. "Our pups are going to be strong."
I said nothing, simply taking a sip of my tea to mask the bitterness on my tongue.
"Let me know if you need anything, love."
I nodded, swallowing the bile rising in my throat.
His phone vibrated on the nightstand. His body tensed for half a second before he swiftly turned it over.
A name flashed across the screen. Beatrice.
He didn't think I'd noticed. But I did.
I saw everything now.
I had an appointment with the pack midwife, a routine checkup to ensure my twins were healthy for delivery.
The pack clinic was warm, the scent of herbal remedies and clean linen filling the air. The midwife, an older she-wolf with gentle hands, checked my vitals, murmuring reassurances about my pups' strong heartbeats.
Then, as I sat waiting for her to finish making notes, the door opened. James, the midwife’s husband and an old friend of Dorian’s strolled in—a man who had once been part of the Alpha’s inner circle.
“Luna,” he greeted with a smile. “It’s been a while.”
I returned the greeting politely, expecting small talk about the pups or pack affairs. Instead, he laughed and shook his head.
I was greeted by His laughter filled the room as he spoke animatedly.
“Ah, it’s a small world, isn’t it?” James grinned. “To think, Beatrice and Dorian were practically inseparable as pups. The whole pack thought they’d be mated, you know? Then you came along, and the Goddess had other plans.”
The room tilted.
A dull roar filled my ears.
I stared at James, my hands clenching the arms of the chair.
“Oh, how the Moon Goddess works in mysterious ways," he continued, oblivious to my stiff posture. "Instead, she mated Beatrice to Jake. What are the odds, right?"
My stomach churned. Seven years. Seven years of devotion. Seven years of lies. How long had they been sneaking around behind my back? Had it ever truly stopped?
I barely made it to the nearest waste bin before I threw up.
“Oh dear," the midwife fretted, rushing over. "It’s just the pregnancy, dear. Happens to all expecting mothers.”
I wiped my mouth, nodding mechanically. Pregnancy. Sure. Let’s blame it on that.
The pain in my belly grew sharper, but I ignored it, making my way back home.
I pressed a hand to my belly, feeling the faint movements of my pups. The only part of this life I had left to hold onto.
On a whim, I decided to stop by the marketplace to pick up a few last-minute things for my pups. Tiny blankets. Soft onesies. Anything to remind me that, no matter what happened, I had something—someone—worth fighting for.
Then, I saw them.
Dorian and Beatrice, standing side by side in one of the high-end baby boutiques.
For a moment, I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. They were laughing—Dorian holding up a onesie, Beatrice rolling her eyes in mock exasperation.
I forced my feet forward.
“Dorian," I called, my voice perfectly controlled.
His entire body stiffened before he turned to me with a too-easy smile. “Luna, what a surprise.”
My eyes flickered to Beatrice, who was already scowling.
“What are you two doing here?” I asked, tilting my head slightly.
Dorian didn’t miss a beat. “Beatrice is helping me pick out a surprise for the boys.”
Beatrice’s scowl deepened, but she grudgingly nodded. "Yes," she said stiffly, arms crossing. "Alpha Dorian wanted a second opinion."
Liar.
Something flashed in her eyes—resentment, irritation at having to play along.
I glanced at the items in their hands—clothes too small for my twins.
The world slowed, my mind sharpening like a blade. Beatrice had no reason to be here, no reason to be helping my mate choose gifts for our sons.
But she was.
And she was angry about having to pretend otherwise.
For a moment, a foolish part of me clung to the possibility that Dorian was being forced into this, that maybe he wasn’t willingly betraying me.
But then Beatrice turned to him, her hand brushing his arm—a touch too familiar, too practiced. And my mate?
He didn’t even flinch.
A cold realization settled over me. He wasn’t trapped. He wasn’t being manipulated. He had chosen this. Chosen her.
Something inside me snapped.
I smiled at Beatrice, slow and deliberate. “How thoughtful of you,” I murmured. “The Beta must be proud to have such a considerate mate.”
Beatrice stiffened, and for the first time, Dorian's easy demeanor cracked.
I didn’t give them the satisfaction of waiting for a response. Instead, I turned on my heel, my mind whirling.
The time for hoping, for pretending, was over.
I still had one reason to stay—my pups. But once they were here?
Nothing would keep me in this nightmare.
Nothing.
