A Betrayed Trust

Elara's POV

The harsh, fluorescent light of the bathroom beats down on my pale face as the two solid, undeniable lines of the plastic pregnancy test stare up at me from the sink counter. I am pregnant. My hands shake so violently I have to grip the sharp edge of the cold porcelain to stay upright, my knuckles turning stark white under the strain. If I wasn’t such a terrified, nervous wreck right now, my stomach churning with a sickening mix of dread and awe, I would throw my head back and laugh at the cruel irony of the universe. Pack EbonGrove has been desperately demanding that Alpha King Zarek produce a noble heir to secure his legacy. Yet here I am, a low-born orphan, standing in a sterile bathroom, carrying his bastard child in secret. Just like me, this tiny, developing baby is destined to be completely unwanted by the pack.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I stare down at a crinkled, digitized old photograph of my late grandmother. I trace her faded smile through the glass screen, a bittersweet, agonizing pang hitting the center of my chest. I vividly remember her warm, enveloping hugs, the comforting smell of flour and dried herbs always clinging to her apron, and the soft, raspy timbre of her voice. Those were the dark days when I was forced to secretly borrow large sums of money from the former Alpha King just to keep her medical care funded.

“One day you’ll have a much bigger family, and they’re gonna need you…” she had promised me through her coughing fits, holding me tight.

Staring at the two pink lines, I realize she was right. This baby needs me more than anything else in the world. I know firsthand the agonizing pain of growing up as an unaccepted, ridiculed outsider, and I absolutely refuse to subject my own flesh and blood to that miserable life.

I have to leave Pack EbonGrove. I must abandon my hard-earned job, and I must walk away from Zarek forever.

But before I can vanish into the night, I need to do one final, terrifying thing: I need to speak with the Alpha King. I must know if formally, magically rejecting our unacknowledged Fate Mate bond will cause physical trauma or harm to the fragile life currently growing inside my womb. A severed mate bond brings unimaginable, flesh-tearing agony to a wolf, and I cannot risk a miscarriage before I even make it past the pack borders.

Steeling my nerves and aggressively masking my swirling inner turmoil beneath a flat, professional expression, I march to the Alpha King’s executive office. I push open the heavy oak doors, only to freeze in my tracks.

Vexia, the high-born fiancée, is already lounging comfortably on his expensive leather sofa, looking thoroughly at home. Her designer clothes and perfectly coiffed hair scream of the noble status I completely lack. Before I can even open my mouth to request a private audience regarding my urgent, life-altering business, Zarek cuts me off.

His gruff, dismissive voice echoes in the room. “Elara, glad you’ve made it. Vexia needs someone to show her around and help get acquainted. Take care of that then wait for my instructions.”

I swallow the massive lump of shock and indignation lodged in my throat. I silently obey, solely for the sake of protecting my baby from his immediate wrath. I cannot afford to provoke the Alpha King right now.

I pivot and lead a thoroughly uninterested, sneering Vexia out of the suite and through the bustling administrative offices of the pack house. As we walk, she yawns obnoxiously, clearly bored by the intricate daily workings of the pack she is supposed to lead. I maintain my rigid posture, politely pointing out my personal workspace, the very desk where I have spent the last three grueling years conducting the pack's vital business under the secret mantle of Agent Luna.

Vexia pauses, her eyes raking over the desk before she lets out a sour, mocking giggle. “I’m sure we’ll find you a nice broom closet to use as an office once you’re back to being a regular Beta.”

Deep within my mind, Lyra bares her teeth and growls menacingly, but the real, unavoidable trouble begins when the general office staff notice us. Thanks to our superhuman werewolf hearing, Vexia easily picks up on every hushed, whispered consolation directed at me from the surrounding cubicles. An older she-wolf timidly steps forward into the aisle, shaking Vexia's hand in greeting, but then turns and whispers softly to me, “He should’ve picked you. Your past work as Luna was perfect!”

As we continue down the corridor and encounter more and more staff offering their heartfelt, kind words of support for me, Vexia’s face contorts with mounting, uncontrollable fury. They murmur about my dedication, my countless overtime hours, my unyielding care for the pack. With every single compliment directed at me, she looks like a feral beast ready to unleash her claws right in the middle of the office floor.

Finally, when a young secretary murmurs sympathetically that I was such a perfectly suited Luna candidate and that the entire administration will miss my leadership, Vexia entirely loses her mind.

“She’s NOT a Luna! She has never been a Luna, AND she will NEVER be a Luna! So SHUT UP, YOU BITCH!” Vexia screams at the top of her lungs, her shrill, ear-piercing voice bouncing violently off the office walls, freezing everyone in their tracks. The entire administrative floor goes dead silent, employees staring in wide-eyed horror at the noble-blooded fiancée throwing a psychotic, venomous tantrum.

Before I can even attempt to de-escalate the chaotic situation or find a safe way out of this explosive embarrassment to protect my stomach, the heavy double doors at the end of the hallway burst open. Zarek rushes into the corridor, his face dark and furious like a thundercloud, demanding loudly to know what the horrific noise is about.

In an instant, Vexia’s terrifying, feral anger seamlessly transforms into a pathetic, trembling sob. Pointing a long, manicured finger directly at my face, her eyes rapidly flushing red with highly convincing, manufactured tears, she cries out, “She… She yelled at me! She’s been telling all of the servants that SHE should be Luna! She called me a bitch and told me to shut up!”

Without a second of hesitation, Vexia runs sobbing into Zarek’s broad chest. He immediately wraps his strong, muscular arms around her, possessively embracing her. He pulls her tight against him, glaring dangerously over her head right at me, as if he is physically protecting her from an active threat. From me. His loyal Beta.

I stand perfectly still amidst the staring crowd, taking a long, deep breath, desperately trying to control my spiraling, frantic emotions. I tell myself the Alpha King knows me. He knows my character. He knows I would never play such childish games or openly disrespect him in front of the working pack. He trusts me. He has relied on me for three long years. He will see right through her pathetic, blatant manipulations and call her out on this ridiculous theater.

“Elara,” Zarek’s forceful, booming voice makes me jump, the harsh sound of my name hitting my body like a lethal electric current, snapping my naive hopes in half. He looks at me, the woman carrying his unborn child, with eyes as cold and unforgiving as a frozen lake.

“…What have you done to her?!”