𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝;
"Cancer and Moon Fever?" The words barely escaped my lips, a brittle whisper breaking the suffocating silence.
The room felt colder, smaller. My chest tightened as I processed the doctor's expression—pity laced with resignation. It wasn't just bad news; it was a death sentence.
"Your condition is critical, Luna Elizabeth," he began, his voice measured, like a man carefully placing fragile glass on a shaky table. "With the cancer and now Moon Fever, your body is... struggling. It's unlikely you'll survive more than a week."
The words hit me like a tidal wave, leaving me floundering in shock. My hand instinctively found my swollen stomach, pressing against it as if I could shield my unborn child from this cruel reality. "And my baby?" I demanded, my voice trembling but rising. "What about my child? My mate's child?"
He hesitated. The hesitation killed me.
"I'm afraid of the complications…" His words trailed off, but the implication was clear.
"No!" I snapped, my voice cutting through the thick tension. "I'm carrying the royal heir. My child is the future of this pack. This—this can't be happening."
"I wish there were another way, Luna," he said quietly, his eyes heavy with guilt. "But you must decide. Your life or the child's."
I stared at him, stunned, a thousand thoughts clashing in my mind. Save myself and lose the life growing inside me? Or sacrifice everything for a chance to let my baby live?
Tears blurred my vision. Images of Gabriel, my mate, flashed in my mind—his smile, his laugh, the way his hand lingered protectively on my stomach. How could I tell him that I might leave him to raise our child alone? How could I take away the one dream we'd shared since the moment we found each other?
"There has to be another way," I whispered, desperation clawing at my voice. "Please. Anything."
The doctor looked at me for a long moment before exhaling deeply. "There is… one option," he said, leaning forward. "But it's dangerous. Forbidden."
I straightened. "Tell me."
"It's an ancient ritual," he said, his voice lowering. "The Soul Binding Ritual. It requires your mate to bind a part of his soul to yours. It could give you the strength to survive, to fight off the illness. But…"
"But what?"
"The bond is irreversible," he continued. "And if it fails, you both could die—or worse, lose your identities entirely. The risks are enormous, Luna. No one has attempted it in centuries."
I clenched my hands into fists, the weight of his words crushing me. "And if it succeeds?"
"Then you might live," he admitted. "Both of you. But the process is… agonizing."
"Agony is nothing compared to losing my child," I said firmly, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. "What do I need to do?"
"There's also a potion," he said hesitantly. "The Forbidden Potion. It amplifies the ritual's effects but is highly unstable. Wolfsbane and dragon's blood are just some of the toxic ingredients. The potion itself could kill you—or save you. But no one knows for sure."
My heart pounded. The risks were piling up, each one heavier than the last. But what choice did I have? My child deserved a chance.
"Where can I get it?" I asked.
He leaned back, his gaze dark. "It won't be easy. And once the pack finds out—"
"They won't find out," I interrupted. "Just tell me how."
He sighed, pulling out a small piece of parchment. "This has everything you need. But Luna Elizabeth, I beg you to reconsider. Once you start down this path, there's no turning back."
"I don't have the luxury of turning back," I said, taking the parchment.
As I left his office, his voice stopped me. "Take care, Luna," he said softly.
I turned back, clutching the radiographic image he handed me. "You too," I murmured, my voice barely audible.
Outside, the pack's whispers greeted me—always watching, always judging. Eight years as their leader, and still, they saw me as an outsider. My grip tightened on the parchment.
I gave up everything for Gabriel—my position as Alpha, my pride, my life as I knew it—because I loved him. I believed he'd do the same for me without hesitation. They could hate me all they wanted. I didn't care. My only concern now was my child, our family, and the future we had dreamed of together.
The drive back to the Royal Pack House felt unbearably long. The silence in the car amplified my unease. My thoughts ran wild as I gripped the steering wheel, desperate to shake off the gnawing dread in my chest.
When I arrived, the maids greeted me with polite bows. "Where's Gabriel?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.
They exchanged uneasy glances before one spoke. "We don't know, Luna."
I nodded slowly, though my chest tightened. His car was parked outside. It was Saturday—no pack meetings, no patrols. There was no reason for him to be anywhere but in the house.
I went upstairs to our room, expecting to find him. But it was empty. The air felt heavier, the silence louder. A strange instinct gripped me, and instead of heading to his office, I turned toward the royal heir's room.
I reached the door and stopped. Muffled sounds seeped through the thick wood—voices. My heart pounded in my chest as I pushed the door open.
And there they were.
Gabriel. My husband. The father of my unborn child.
Hazel. My best friend. The one person I thought I could trust.
They were tangled together on the bed meant for our child.
"Yes!" Hazel moaned, her voice filled with mockery. "Yes, Gabriel. Don't stop…"
The room spun. My breath caught in my throat. "Hazel?" My voice cracked, a mixture of disbelief and pain.
Hazel turned her head lazily, like a predator interrupted mid-meal. Her smirk was slow and deliberate, oozing cruelty. She slipped off the bed, adjusting the thin strap of her dress as she walked toward me.
"Oh, you're surprised?" she sneered, tilting her head. "You thought you were enough for him? That you were the one keeping him satisfied?" She laughed, low and mocking. "Oh, Elizabeth, sweet, clueless Elizabeth. Now you see the truth."
"Hazel, why?" My voice trembled. Tears blurred my vision as I looked at her, begging for some explanation that could make this hurt less.
"Why?" she repeated, her voice dripping with venom. "Because I can. Because I'm better than you in every way. And deep down, you know it too."
I turned to Gabriel, my voice rising in desperation. "Gabriel! Say something! Stop her!"
But he just sat there on the bed, his face cold, detached. "What do you want me to say, Elizabeth?" he asked finally, his tone flat. "Hazel's right. She gives me something you never could."
His words hit like a blade, twisting in my chest. I stumbled back, clutching the doorframe for support. "You can't mean that," I whispered.
Hazel laughed again, circling me like a predator playing with its prey. "Oh, he does," she said smugly. "You gave up your position as Alpha for him, didn't you? So noble. So foolish. All that power, wasted on someone like you."
I backed away, my hand instinctively shielding my stomach. "You're a monster," I said, my voice shaking. "Both of you."
"Monster?" Hazel mocked, stepping closer. "No, Elizabeth. I'm just honest. Something you've never had the guts to be."
Before I could react, her hand shot out, slapping me across the face. The sharp sting echoed in the room, and I stumbled, catching myself against the wall.
"Hazel, stop!" I cried, tears streaming down my face. "You're hurting me!"
Hazel's grin widened, her eyes cold and merciless. "Good. You deserve it," she hissed as she landed another sharp kick to my stomach.
I crumpled to the ground, clutching my belly. Pain shot through me, sharp and unrelenting. "Help! Someone, help me!" I screamed, my voice breaking with desperation.
Hazel laughed, a cruel, bitter sound. "No one's coming, Elizabeth. You're alone—just like you've always been."
I tried to fight back, clawing at her legs, but I was too weak. The cancer and Moon Fever had drained every ounce of strength from my body. I couldn't even lift a hand to defend myself against an Omega, let alone Hazel.
"Stop!" Gabriel's voice finally broke through the chaos. For a brief second, hope flickered in my chest. Maybe he'd finally come to his senses.
But instead of rushing to my aid, he calmly reached for a cigarette, lighting it with deliberate ease. He took a long drag, the smoke curling around him like a shroud.
"Gabriel…" I whimpered, my vision blurred with tears. "Please…"
He exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable as he walked to the cupboard and pulled out a small glass bottle filled with an unknown liquid. His movements were deliberate, almost ritualistic, as he unscrewed the cap.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked, his tone cold and detached.
I didn't answer. My voice was gone, stolen by fear.
Without waiting for a response, Gabriel grabbed my chain, yanking me upright. The pain in my neck was nothing compared to the searing betrayal in my chest.
"You're nothing but a curse," he said, his voice low and venomous. "A plague on my life."
He tilted the bottle, forcing the liquid down my throat. It burned as it went down, each drop a firestorm of agony. I gagged, coughing violently, but he didn't stop.
"Die," he snarled, his eyes wild and unrecognizable. "Die, you evil witch!"
I clawed at his hands, desperate to break free, but he was relentless.
When the bottle was empty, he let me fall to the floor like discarded trash. Gasping for air, I tried to crawl away, but he was already reaching for a wooden table nearby.
He raised it high, his movements erratic, his face twisted in rage. "You'll never hurt me again!"
The last thing I saw was the table coming down, aiming for my stomach—the place where our child grew.
And then, darkness.