Dressing like a cheap slut!

I let out a soft moan as his touch ignited my senses, his fingers roaming freely over my body, drawing out every ounce of desire within me. My body arched instinctively, pressing eagerly against him.

Unable to hold back, I whispered breathlessly, "Please, Areen, don’t make me wait. I need you now."

The longing within me was unbearable, my legs parting instinctively as I bit my lip, gazing at him with smoldering intensity.

A smirk played across Areen’s lips as he stepped closer, each movement deliberate, charged with tension. Leaning in until his breath tickled my ear, he murmured huskily, "Your body doesn’t tempt me, my ugly wife."

The words hit me like a cold slap. My eyes flew open, and the dream shattered. Reality came crashing down. I was back in my room, drenched in sweat, haunted by yet another fantasy that could never be real.

I wiped my forehead and let out a bitter laugh, mocking myself. "I dream about the man who despises me, the man who happens to be my husband."

Dragging myself out of bed, I stood before the mirror. My long hair framed my face, cascading down my back. Emerald-green eyes stared back at me, filled with sorrow. I was beautiful by most standards, but to Areen, I was ugly.

"Why?" The question was always there, gnawing at me.

A sudden knock broke my thoughts, making me jump. My hand flew to my chest as my heart raced.

"Lina! You scared me," I said, exhaling sharply.

Lina, one of the servants of the Salvatore house, stood in the doorway. She bowed her head respectfully. "I’m sorry, Luna."

I frowned. "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? I’m not—" My voice faltered.

Her smile was gentle, yet her eyes held unwavering belief. "You are the Luna of this pack. Nothing will change that."

Sadness engulfed me, and I fidgeted with my fingers. "Two years, Lina. It’s been two years, and Areen hasn’t marked me as his mate. How can I be Luna?"

Lina stepped closer, taking my hand in hers. Her grip was firm but comforting. "One day, Alpha Areen will love you. I know it."

Tears threatened to spill, but I blinked them away. I knew her words were meant to console, but they only deepened the ache in my heart.

Changing the subject, I asked softly, "Did you need something?"

Lina hesitated before replying, "Dr. Shailav has asked to see you for your regular check-up."

I nodded, and she left quietly. Alone again, I clenched my fists and whispered, "Please, let there be good news this time."

After a quick bath, I dressed in a flowing pink gown and headed to Dr. Shailav’s office. The air was heavy with anticipation as I knocked on the door.

"Come in, Eva," his calm voice called out.

Dr. Shailav sat behind his desk, reviewing a stack of reports. His sharp features and serious demeanor were as imposing as ever.

"Is everything alright?" I asked, my voice trembling with hope and fear.

He removed his glasses and sighed. "Eva, I’m sorry, but… you’re not pregnant."

The words echoed in my ears, each syllable chipping away at the fragile hope I had clung to. My chest tightened, and tears blurred my vision.

"I—I can’t keep doing this," I whispered, my voice cracking.

Dr. Shailav leaned forward, his tone gentle. "Eva, you’re putting too much pressure on yourself—"

"Don’t!" I snapped, cutting him off. "I trusted you to help me. I thought you were my friend. But all you’ve given me is failure!"

I stood abruptly, my hands trembling. "If I can’t get pregnant, Areen will never love me. I’m nothing without him!"

Dr. Shailav’s expression softened, his voice filled with quiet urgency. "Eva, having a child won’t make him love you. Don’t lose yourself chasing something that isn’t real."

"You’re wrong!" I cried, tears streaming down my face. "He comes to me. He makes love to me. That means something!"

"That’s not love," he said firmly. "That’s lust, Eva. And when it fades, he leaves you like you’re nothing."

The truth in his words stung more than I could bear. Desperation clawed at me, and I grabbed his collar. "Help me. Please. There must be a way!"

Dr. Shailav hesitated before reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small vial, its contents shimmering faintly.

"What is this?" I asked, clutching it like a lifeline.

"A potion," he said quietly. "It’s made from the essence of a white wolf. It’s said to enhance fertility, but—"

I didn’t let him finish. A surge of hope overwhelmed me as I clutched the vial tightly. "This is it. This will work!"

"Eva," he warned, his tone grave, "there could be consequences. Don’t overuse it."

But his caution fell on deaf ears. That night, I prepared myself with meticulous care. Dressed in black lace, my heart raced with a mixture of fear and determination.

"Tonight, he will see me," I thought.

The door burst open, and Areen strode in, his presence dominating the room. My pulse quickened as our eyes met, his dark gaze unreadable.

I stepped closer, letting the gown slip from my shoulders. "Am I beautiful?" I asked, my voice trembling with vulnerability.

His expression hardened, and his voice cut through the air like ice. "What are you doing, Eva? Dressing like a desperate whore?"

His words sliced through me, leaving wounds far deeper than I cared to admit