Chapter 14

Loretta's POV 

I stood before the full-length mirror in my private chamber, the soft glow of candlelight caressing every curve of my body. I adjusted my delicate lingerie for what felt like the hundredth time that evening—a garment of intricate lace and satin that Grace had insisted was perfect for tonight. Earlier that day, we had spent hours shopping, laughing, and choosing pieces that promised to highlight my best features. And though I had felt a spark of confidence then, now, as I examined my reflection, an undercurrent of nervousness threatened to overwhelm me.

Tonight was the night, Grace had told me without a hint of doubt. I had to make love to Sebastian—if not for passion, then for survival. Grace had explained that conceiving his child would secure my position as Luna, solidifying my place in the pack. It was a cold, calculated bargain, one that left me feeling more like a pawn than a partner. The thought of this arrangement gnawed at me, yet I knew I had little choice in the matter.

I smoothed down the lace at my collar and took a deep breath, trying to banish the doubts that fluttered in my mind. What if Sebastian rejected me, or worse, treated me with the indifference and cruelty whispered about behind his regal facade? I recalled every rumor of his merciless behavior, every cold glance that betrayed a heart not given to tenderness. The thought of his touch, devoid of genuine affection, sent a shiver down my spine.

The quiet rustle of footsteps alerted me to his approach. I turned, offering a smile that I hoped masked the storm of uncertainty within. The door creaked open, and there he stood—Sebastian, his eyes momentarily widening in surprise as they took in the scene before him. The room was transformed by a cascade of rose petals, their fragrance mingling with the soft, ambient light, and there I was, poised as if I were the heroine in a grand romance.

But as his gaze met mine, I saw it: the absence of a spark, the unmistakable void of desire. His eyes, though polite, held a distant, detached look—as if he were merely fulfilling an obligation rather than indulging in passion. The realization struck me like lightning. 

He did not want me. 

Not truly. 

I felt a sharp pang of disappointment, a bitter contrast to the image I had so desperately tried to craft.

I swallowed my hurt and forced my smile into place. There was no room for vulnerability in this performance; I had to keep up the act. Every graceful movement, every soft word, was a carefully practiced step in a dance of duty. As we moved together, the intimacy we shared felt hollow—a mechanical, duty-bound ritual devoid of warmth or real connection. There was no tenderness in his touch, only the chill of necessity.

In the quiet aftermath, as we lay entwined in the stillness of the room, I felt a profound emptiness. I was trapped in a loveless marriage, a life dictated by obligation rather than desire. And though my heart ached with loneliness and fear, I resolved to maintain the facade. For tonight, at least, I would play the part assigned to me, even as every fiber of my being yearned for something real—a love that I feared might forever remain just out of reach.

Little did I know that my step had been blessed by the Moon goddess with an offspring growing within me. Not until Grace pointed out a suspicion a few weeks later.

I sat alone in my room, the silence punctuated only by the steady tick of a clock. Clutched in my trembling hand was a small piece of paper—the words "pregnant" and "positive" boldly printed as if to announce a fate I had never chosen. At first glance, they might have filled me with hope, but now they stirred a tangled storm of emotions: excitement, fear, and an overwhelming anxiety that churned in my chest.

Almost instantly, the promise of new life turned bitter. My thoughts spiraled to the father of my child—Sebastian. The man I was bound to in marriage, the man I had trusted to be my steadfast partner, had betrayed me. Not only was he entangled in a sordid affair with Alicia, but he was also chasing after my own sister, Eleanor. The sting of his infidelity and the betrayal of family cut deeply, leaving me reeling with anger and disbelief. How could he dismiss all that I had sacrificed? How could he treat me as if I were nothing more than a convenient accessory in his life?

Rage welled up inside me, fierce and unyielding. Every hope I had nurtured, every effort to be a devoted wife and Luna, now felt like a cruel joke. I had given everything to secure my place in this strange, treacherous pack, and yet it seemed no matter what I did, I would never be enough for him. The very thought of Sebastian’s indifference, coupled with the constant, unrelenting reminders of my inadequacy—especially from Eleanor, who seemed to revel in my misery—pushed me over the edge.

Determined to reclaim some semblance of control over my life, I rose from the chair with a resolve that surprised even me. I decided then and there that I would no longer allow myself to be trapped in this degrading charade. I would not be the miserable, pregnant Luna, tethered to a man who cared little for me, nor would I let the ghosts of betrayal dictate my future. I needed freedom, and that meant taking matters into my own hands.

I made my way to the hospital with a cold, determined purpose. My plan was as clear as it was desperate—I would terminate the pregnancy, severing the final tie that bound me to Sebastian and the twisted life I no longer wished to lead. Each step toward the hospital was heavy with the weight of my decision, yet also filled with a flicker of hope for a fresh start.

In the sterile, impersonal confines of a hospital room, I approached a nurse and laid out my plan with a voice that trembled only slightly. I expected understanding or at least the possibility of help. Instead, the nurse shook her head and said softly, "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but it's against hospital policy to perform abortions. And it's

also against the law in our pack."