Chapter 1

My Alpha, Charlie—the man who once claimed to love me deeply—was now indulging himself in unspeakable games of lust at The Velvet Bite, the wolves' most depraved and forbidden brothel.

There, he entertained himself with barely eighteen-year-old women, all alluring and seductive, their laughter ringing in the air.

"Harder, come on! My mighty Alpha…"

"Ah! If you go any rougher, I might not be able to take it!"

Hearing the obscene voices through the phone, I ended the call without hesitation.

By then, I had already returned to my birthplace, the Silvermoon Pack. It was where I belonged, a place I hadn't set foot in since my "relationship" with Charlie began.

As Silvermoon Pack's princess, I had once believed I could sacrifice everything for Charlie—even my identity, even my pride.

But now, I finally saw how blind I had been.

When the pack doctor learned about my decision to undergo an abortion, confusion clouded his eyes. "Princess Eve, this child is the first bloodline to unite the Ironclaw and Silvermoon Packs. It's a rarity! Are you sure you want to terminate the pregnancy? If your fiancé finds out, it might worsen his condition."

I gave a bitter smile, my gaze lowering to my abdomen. "If I tell him I'm pregnant, he might truly succumb to his illness."

After all, he was still hopelessly lost in the arms of those young, beautiful women at the brothel.

It was impossible to comprehend. The man who had once begged and cried for my hand in marriage was now faking an illness to deceive me.

Unable to persuade me, the doctor reluctantly prepared the surgical paperwork. Yet, he insisted on calling Charlie.

"Princess Eve, the child isn't just yours. Even if Alpha Charlie's sick and doesn't want the child, he should be here to sign the papers and support you through the procedure. What if there's been some misunderstanding?"

I didn't stop him. Deep down, I knew this child had been the strongest bond between us—a bond I had cherished, knowing how hard it was for me to conceive.

When I was diagnosed with PCOS, Charlie had been unwavering. He claimed he loved me enough to defy his parents, fighting them fiercely to marry me. Now, as I chose to part with the child, he should at least be here to say goodbye.

But when the call connected, his cold laughter echoed through the phone. "Eve's pregnant? That's impossible! How much did she pay you to break your medical ethics and play along with this charade? If she thinks using a child to force me into marriage will work, tell her not to waste her time. Who's to say the kid is even mine?"

The dial tone rang in my ears, his dismissive laugh lingering in the silence of the operating room.

I signed the papers myself, closing my eyes as the ink dried.

When I woke up after the procedure, my phone was flooded with messages—from Charlie.

Charlie: [Eve, I didn't think you'd care so little about me. I'm sick, and you still push me into marriage? You, the princess of the Silvermoon Pack, resorted to tricks with a child to deceive me? From now on, we're done! Move out. I don't want to see you anymore.]

The house we lived in was renovated from the money my parents had given us. Yet, he thoughtfully arranged a shabby, empty house on the outskirts of the Ironclaw territory for me, going so far as to clean it himself.

Charlie: [It wouldn't be appropriate for you to go back to the Silvermoon Pack so soon. I've already paid the rent for a year. You should stay there for now.]

I glanced at the bloody remnants of what could have been my child and replied calmly: [Thank you.]

He wasn't fit to be a father.

During the three days I spent recovering in the hospital, he didn't show up once. But his social media was flooded with updates: parties, alcohol, and wolf girls clinging to him, making up for every wild moment he thought he had missed because of me.

I knew he posted them for my sake, so I gave him what he wanted and liked every single post.

On the day of my discharge, as I completed the paperwork, I saw an unexpected scene: Charlie and the pack doctor pushing a gurney down the hallway, rushing toward the emergency room.

What was the Alpha of the Ironclaw Pack doing in a Silvermoon hospital? It made no sense.

Charlie's gaze swept over me for a fleeting moment before he quickly looked away, pretending not to recognize me. Yet the frantic shout of the emergency doctor reached my ears loud and clear.

"Prepare rare Rh-negative blood in Operating Room One! The patient has a ruptured corpus luteum and severe internal bleeding—urgent transfusion needed!

"What? The blood bank is out of stock?"

As the phone call ended, the doctor hurried to Charlie's side and whispered something in his ear.

Charlie stopped abruptly. In the next moment, he turned and strode toward me, desperation flashing across his face.

"Eve, if you're willing to donate blood for Lisa, I'll forget about you stalking me!" His voice was urgent, but his tone was laced with a sickening command.

I froze, then let out a bitter laugh. "I'm not stalking you."

"Enough with the excuses! Saving a life is what matters now!"

He grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the doctor. "She's Rh-negative. Take as much as you need!"

I struggled to break free, his grip tightening as he forced me forward. My voice was cold when I asked, "You said you'd cut off all ties with me. So how do you know my blood type?"

I stared at him, waiting for an answer.