Chapter 2

Kamrynn 

When I wake, the world is a blur of pain and darkness. My body feels as if it’s been shattered into a thousand pieces. But this pain is different. It isn’t just from the bruises or the beating. It’s deeper. Something sharp and unnatural twists inside me, tightening its grip on my stomach. I can feel something wet between my legs, sticky and warm.

Blood.

I gasp, panic flooding my chest. My arms are chained to the bed, and I’m too weak to even pull against the restraints. The metal bites into my skin as I shift, trying to move, trying to understand what’s happening. My stomach churns violently, and the pain intensifies, making me want to scream.

Please, not again. Not another one.

I close my eyes, willing the terror to go away. I know what this is. I know what it feels like when a child is lost, when your body rejects the life inside it. In the nine months that I’ve been Calvin’s slave, I’ve lost three children. Three tiny lives that I couldn’t protect, and each time, I’ve kept it secret, terrified of what he would do if he found out.

But this time feels different. Worse. I wasn’t even sure if I was pregnant again, but I knew my body, and it’s not time for my period yet. There’s too much blood. It can’t be that. My heart hammers in my chest as the fear coils tighter around me.

Please… not again.

The door creaks open, and I hear the familiar sound of soft footsteps approaching the bed. I don’t even have to open my eyes to know it’s Lysaa. Her presence is like a tiny flicker of warmth in the coldness that surrounds me. She’s the only one in this place who shows me any kindness, and her gentle touch is the only thing that’s ever made me feel human anymore.

“Oh, Kamrynn,” Lysaa’s voice is barely a whisper, but I can hear the sorrow in it. She’s seen me like this too many times before. “He did it again, didn’t he?”

I force my eyes open, blinking against the blur of pain. Lysaa stands beside me, her round face full of pity, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Her usual cheery demeanor is gone, replaced by a sadness she tries so hard to hide. Her hair is falling loose around her face, and her hands tremble as she reaches out to brush the sweat-dampened hair from my forehead.

“I think I’m…” My voice cracks, barely audible. “I’m bleeding, Lysaa. There’s so much blood.”

Her eyes widen in alarm, and she looks down at me, her gaze drifting to the dark stains on the bed beneath me. She hesitates, glancing toward the door as if she’s afraid someone might overhear. “You don’t think—”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, swallowing back the rising fear in my throat. “It’s not time for my period. I— I don’t know if I’m pregnant, but I can’t… I can’t lose another one.”

Lysaa bites her lip, torn between fear and compassion. I can see the conflict in her eyes. She knows what I’m asking of her. She knows the risk. If Calvin finds out, if he even suspects that something’s wrong… 

“The Alpha will be furious,” she says softly, shaking her head. “If he finds out, Kamrynn…”

“Please.” My voice cracks with desperation. “Lysaa, I’m scared. I can’t— I can’t do this again.”

She looks down at me, her eyes brimming with tears, and for a moment, I think she might refuse. But then she nods, wiping at her eyes quickly. “I’ll get the doctor,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “Just hold on. Please, just hold on.”

I let out a shaky breath as she hurries from the room, the door closing softly behind her. The pain in my stomach twists tighter, and I bite down hard on my lip to keep from crying out. My mind spins, the memories of the previous miscarriages crashing over me like waves. The tiny bits of hope I’d dared to feel—each one torn away from me, lost to the darkness that has consumed my life since the day Sherelle died.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it all out, but the pain doesn’t go away. It only gets worse, spreading through me until it’s all I can feel. And as the darkness starts to pull me under again, the nightmare begins.

***

Sherelle is standing in front of me, her body drenched in blood, her skin pale and lifeless. The gash in her neck is wide and deep, still oozing thick, black blood down her chest. Her eyes are hollow, empty, yet somehow, they still hold a look of betrayal that pierces through me like a knife. 

 The wound on her stomach is open, raw, and empty. Her hands cradle her belly, her lips twisted into a sneer.

“You took everything from me,” she hisses, her voice distorted and unnatural. “You always wanted what was mine.”

I try to speak, to tell her it’s not true, but the words won’t come. I’m frozen in place as she steps closer, her blood-streaked fingers reaching for me.

“You killed me,” she whispers, her eyes boring into mine. “You wanted him, didn’t you? You wanted Calvin so badly that you ripped him away from me. You stole my mate. My life. My child.”

“No,” I choke out, my voice trembling with fear. “I didn’t. I swear I didn’t…”

But Sherelle’s face contorts with rage, her hand wrapping around my throat, cold and wet with blood.

“You killed me, Kamrynn. You took everything from me.”

I try to scream, but there’s no sound.

I wake with a gasp, my heart pounding, my chest heaving as I struggle to pull myself back from the nightmare. The room is dimly lit, and the sound of soft murmurs reaches my ears. I blink, trying to focus, my vision blurry from the tears still clinging to my lashes. 

Lysaa is there, sitting beside the bed, holding my hand. And standing next to her is a woman with graying hair and sharp, intelligent eyes. Dr. Thorne. The Pack’s doctor. She’s been here before—she was Sherelle’s doctor during her pregnancy. She’s seen everything.

“She’s awake,” Lysaa whispers, her voice filled with relief.

Dr. Thorne turns to me, her expression grim as she moves closer to the bed. Her face is etched with concern, and I can tell that whatever she has to say, it’s not going to be good.

“How are you feeling, Kamrynn?” Dr. Thorne asks, her voice calm but direct.

I blink up at her, struggling to find the words. “I don’t… I don’t know,” I whisper. “There’s… blood. Am I…”

“You’re not miscarrying,” she says quickly, as if trying to soothe the panic she can see in my eyes. “There’s been some light spotting, but it’s not a miscarriage.”

I let out a shaky breath, relief washing over me for a moment. “Then… then what is it?”

Dr. Thorne’s expression hardens. “It’s the result of trauma,” she says bluntly. “The beating, the… forced intercourse. Your body is reacting to the brutality it’s endured. You’re pregnant, Kamrynn. But if you continue like this, if this continues…”

I can hear the unspoken warning in her voice, and it makes my stomach churn. I glance over at Lysaa, her face pale as she listens in silence, her hand still clutching mine tightly.

“If the Alpha keeps… treating you this way, you’ll lose the baby,” Dr. Thorne says softly. “And with the state your body is in, if you lose this child, Kamrynn, you may never be able to have another...”