12

Scarlett

The next day arrived with a gentle knock at my door. For a moment, my heart raced, fearing it might be Vanessa returning with more cruelty. But when the door opened, I saw Alisha’s familiar face instead.

“Luna, may I come in?” she asked softly.

“Yes, please,” I called out.

“Good morning, Luna.”

Alisha entered, carrying a tray laden with a steaming bowl of soup and various other dishes. I sat up in bed, surprised by the formal service.

“Why are you bringing food to my room?” I asked, watching as she carefully set the tray on the nearby table. “I usually eat in the dining hall.”

“Alpha’s orders, Luna,” Alisha explained, her voice gentle. “He wants you to remain in your chambers today. With the Northern pack delegation arriving...”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Ah, of course. He doesn’t want me seen during the diplomatic visits.”

“I thought you might be angry,” Alisha said carefully.

“Angry?” I shook my head, a sad smile playing at my lips. “No. I’m relieved, actually. I have no desire to be paraded around as his Luna.”

Alisha helped me prepare for the day with our usual routine—a warm bath, carefully drying off, applying cream, and selecting a flowing gown that felt comfortable against my skin.

“You look beautiful, Luna,” she said, adjusting the fabric around my shoulders.

“Thank you.” I settled onto the plush sofa as Alisha served my breakfast. The first bite of soup flooded my mouth with warmth and flavor, drawing an appreciative sigh. “This is delicious.”

“I knew you’d enjoy it,” Alisha beamed, her perfect white teeth showing as she smiled.

After I finished, she gathered the dishes back onto the tray. “I’ll leave you to rest now, Luna. Please take care.”

“Thank you, Alisha.”

I returned to my bed, listening to the distant sounds of carriages and voices as the delegation presumably arrived. The gentle hum of activity eventually lulled me into an unexpected sleep, not knowing that my peaceful morning would soon turn into a nightmare.

I didn’t know when I slept off, but the knock on my door woke me up. I rolled on my bed before answering.

“Who?”

“Luna, I brought your lunch.” The words barely registered as Sarah, one of the newer maids, placed the tray beside my bed. Where was Alisha? She always brought my meals.

“Where’s Alisha?” I asked, fighting down a sudden unease.

“Sent to town on errands, Luna. Just for today.” Sarah smiled, but something felt wrong about the curve of her lips.

I stared at the bowl of soup, steam rising in innocent spirals. My stomach growled—I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Surely, I was being paranoid. Yet Alisha’s warnings echoed in my head: Watch your food. Don't let anyone but me attend to you.

But I was so hungry, and the baby...

The first spoonful tasted fine. Normal. By the third, my stomach began to cramp.

Something was wrong.

The pain hit like lightning, sharp and sudden. I doubled over, the bowl clattering to the floor. “No,” I gasped. “No, no, no...”

Then I saw the blood.

My scream shattered the afternoon silence. I clutched my belly, as if I could somehow hold my child safe inside through will alone. “Help! Somebody help!”

The cramping intensified, each wave worse than the last. More blood. Too much blood.

“My baby,” I sobbed. “Please, not my baby...”

Guards burst through the door. Someone was shouting for the doctor. I could hear running footsteps, voices raised in alarm. Through my tears, I saw Sarah standing in the corner, her face a mask of false concern.

They planned this.

The thought came with crystal clarity just before another wave of agony tore through me. I saw Vanessa’s smirking face, heard her words from weeks ago: “...carrying a bastard no one will ever love."

The room began to spin. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision. The last thing I saw was the doctor rushing in, his face grim.

“Save my baby,” I pleaded, before consciousness slipped away. “Please...”

---

I woke to silence.

Even before I opened my eyes, I knew. The hollow emptiness in my body told me everything. When I finally looked, Dr. Matthews sat beside my bed, his aged face heavy with sorrow.

“I’m so sorry, Luna,” he whispered. “We did everything we could.”

A sound escaped me then—not quite a scream, not quite a sob. Something primal, raw, like my soul was being torn apart.

“The poison was quite sophisticated,” he continued quietly. “Designed to... to target...” He couldn’t finish.

Poison. The word echoed in my mind like a death knell.

“Leave,” I managed. “Please.”

“Yes, Luna. Please take heart.”

Once alone, I curled into myself, one hand pressed against my now-empty belly. No kick would answer my touch. No flutter of movement would comfort me in the dark hours. My child—my last light, my only joy—was gone.

Grief rose like a tidal wave, threatening to drown me. But behind it, something else began to burn. Rage. Pure, molten rage.

They had taken everything from me. My mate. My freedom. And now my child. I stared at the ceiling, tears drying on my cheeks.

“I swear,” I whispered to the empty room, to my lost child, to whatever gods might be listening, “they will pay for this. Every last one of them.”

“I will make sure I kill them.”

I was weak, but I couldn’t stop the tears. My tears. My everything is gone. They all killed my child.

“Oh no.” I heard a voice inside my room. There was no need to turn around to know who it was. It was her, Dickson’s primal mistress, Vanessa. “I’m so sorry for your loss, darling.”

How? When? How did she know I lost my child?

“You killed my baby?” I whispered. My voice trembled, but the rage and anger in me burned more. I needed revenge. I needed to kill them to make them know the taste of death.

“What the heck are you talking about?” she asked, her face innocent, but her voice betrayed her. I knew right away she was the one.

“Where is Sarah?” I asked. “She works for you, right?”

“Are you feeling unwell?” Vanessa’s voice dripped with mock concern, her lips curving into that familiar serpentine smile. “The loss of your... unfortunate child seems to have affected your mind. Sarah? I don’t recall any maid by that name.”

The calculated innocence in her tone made my blood freeze. This was the cruelest part of her game—not just taking my child, but trying to make me doubt my own sanity. She was attempting to erase the evidence of her crime as easily as she had erased my baby’s existence.

“Perhaps you’re confused,” she continued. “Grief can do such terrible things to one’s memory.”

“What!” I snapped. “What do you mean?”

“Read my lips and stop embarrassing yourself. No maid bears the name Sarah.”

My body trembled with exhaustion, every muscle screaming in protest as I tried to stand. The poison had left me hollow, drained of everything but grief and rage. I could barely hold myself upright, let alone face her—this woman who had orchestrated my child’s death.

But deep inside, something shifted. A dark, primal force clawed its way up from the depths of my despair, filling my veins with liquid fire. This wasn’t just anger anymore. This was the fury of a mother robbed of her child, the vengeance of a wolf with nothing left to lose.

My hand moved on its own, reaching for the crystal flower vase on the bedside table. Time seemed to slow as my fingers grasped its delicate neck. The sound of shattering glass filled the room like breaking ice, and I found myself holding a jagged shard, its edge glinting in the afternoon light. Blood trickled down my palm from the cut, but I welcomed the pain. It reassured me that I could still feel, that I was still alive.

And if I was alive, I could make her pay.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Vanessa stammered, her eyes widening as she moved back.

“I will make you taste what it is like to beg for death, bitch,” I snapped. I could feel the blood dripping, but I didn’t care. I no longer cared. Today, I must take this bitch down.

She was about to open the door and run, but before she could, I grabbed her hair and shoved her onto the floor. She was weaker than I thought.

“How dare you!” she roared. “Dickson won’t let you get away with this if you dare hurt me.”

I sneered, a mocking tone laced in my voice. “Do you think I care about him? You killed my child,” I screamed. “You killed my only source of joy. I will make you regret it.”

“I didn’t,” she replied. “Please, trust me.”

“Why should I do that?” I questioned. “Why should I trust you, bitch, when all you do is inflict pain on me? All you do is make sure I know my place. You killed him. Go join my baby.”

“Please,” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t do this.”

I didn’t listen to her pleas. Her screams echoed through the room, but none of the guards came in. I guessed she must have discharged them because she wanted to torment me.

How convenient," I whispered, laughing at her foolishness. “Dismissing the guards... your final mistake. You thought you were clever, coming to torment a grieving mother you believed too weak to fight back. But you’re wrong. Nothing beats a mother’s revenge. Nothing beats a mother’s love.”

“Ah,” she groaned. Without blinking an eye, I slashed her throat with the broken glass.

“Farewell, Vanessa.”

I rose to my feet, watching as blood oozed from her neck. A satisfied smirk plastered on my face.

Someone banged on my door. Another person to die. “What did you do?” I heard a dangerous growl behind me. “How dare you do this?”

I turned around to meet the gaze. With a smirk, I responded, “What do you think? She deserved to die.”

“You…”