A Cruel Pregnancy

Selah's POV

The cold, damp walls of the dungeon seemed to close in around me, the heavy stench of mildew and old blood suffocating my lungs. Vespera stood on the other side of the iron bars. She crossed her arms over her chest, her violet eyes flashing with intense frustration and sheer disbelief.

"Really?" she shot back, her voice echoing harshly in the confined, stone space. "Are you going to use that as an excuse?"

I bristled, my fingernails digging into my palms. My muscles tensed against the agonizing pain radiating from my torn back and the dull, throbbing ache in my chest. How could she stand there and dismiss the mating bond as a mere excuse? The Moon Goddess herself had twisted our fates, binding me to the man my sister claimed as hers.

"He rejected me, didn't he?" I countered, my voice trembling with a potent mixture of anger and deep-seated hurt. The memory of his disgust still burned in my throat. "So why are you still so hung up over it? Is that why you didn't do anything about the pack throwing tomatoes and eggs at me? Is that why you didn't get a healer for my silver splinters?"

Vespera’s beautiful features remained a perfect, chilling mask. She offered zero reaction to my visible agony.

"You will remain here, sis," she stated, her voice devoid of any sisterly warmth. "I hold no personal vendetta against you, but I cannot get a healer. It goes against the judgment of the court. Even as Luna, I am not above the law."

Smooth, practiced lies falling from her lips. She looked down at me as if I were nothing but dirt tracked onto her pristine rugs.

"You will have to make do for tonight," Vespera continued, offering a hollow compromise. "Tomorrow, someone will come to release you. I kept my promise. As long as you maintain your guilty plea, you are free to live out your days as a lowly maid. I will continue to argue self-defense to the council so that by the end of this month, your weekly whippings will cease. You will just continue community service. That's all I can do for you."

Pure fear clawed at my heart, cold and unforgiving. My body was failing. The silver embedded in my flesh was poisoning my system with every ragged breath I took.

"What if I die tonight?" I pleaded. I pressed my face closer to the bars, searching her familiar eyes for a single ounce of empathy, a shred of the little girl I used to know.

Masked with an impenetrable coldness she had perfected since becoming Luna, Vespera offered no solace. Her lips tightened into a thin, merciless line.

"Be appreciative for once, Selah," she scoffed. "You have a roof over your head. I still care for you even though you are nothing but a nuisance and a source of stress. I still care for you as a younger sister, but there is a limit."

With a final, dismissive glance, she turned on her heel. The heavy wooden door slammed shut at the top of the stairs, abandoning me to the terrifying, suffocating darkness of the dungeon.

Left alone in the pitch black, I curled into myself on the freezing stone floor. I shivered against the biting chill, wondering if I was delusional to hold onto the fragile hope that she still cared. I had practically raised Vespera. When we were younger, I was the one she ran to for help with pack assignments, the one who braided her hair and dried her tears. But as she grew older and immersed herself in the elite circles of the pack, she grew unfathomably cruel. She and her friends bullied me without mercy for being an omega slave. She manipulated our father, turning him against me until he disowned his eldest daughter without a second thought.

Despite the betrayal, she had shown microscopic flashes of mercy in the past—a discarded first aid kit, a brief moment of respect. I clung to the age-old proverb that blood was thicker than water, praying those fleeting moments of kindness would save me.

But I was tragically wrong.

Over the agonizing span of the next five months, Vespera’s hollow promise remained unfulfilled. The weekly whippings did not stop at the end of the month. Instead, I was flogged week after week, the leather biting into my flesh until the very concept of a life without blinding pain faded from my memory. I became a walking canvas of scars.

My existence was reduced to endless suffering. I was mocked daily by the other maids, who tripped me in the hallways and ruined my chores. I was ignored by my sister, who refused every single request I submitted for an audience. And worst of all, I was subjected to the casual, sadistic torment of Alpha Zane.

Zane. My fated mate. The man who had vomited at my feet in utter disgust upon realizing our sacred bond. He had laughed in my face, rejecting me on the spot for being a "bony, wretched human," claiming the goddess was playing a sick joke. He took immense pleasure in my daily degradation.

Just this morning, I had made the minor mistake of adding an extra cube of sugar to his breakfast drink. In response, he grabbed the cup of scalding hot tea and poured it directly over my scarred hand. I had bitten my tongue until it bled to keep from screaming as my flesh blistered under his cruel gaze.

Later that afternoon, the lingering sting of the burns wrapped around my hand like a fiery glove. I limped across the gravel courtyard to fetch the daily mail. The wind was harsh, but it was nothing compared to the terrible misfortune of crossing paths with them.

"Good evening, Alpha and Luna," I mumbled, keeping my head bowed as I clutched the letters to my chest.

They stopped. Zane’s handsome face contorted in thorough disgust at my mere presence. To twist the invisible knife, he pulled Vespera flush against his broad chest, his hands roaming her waist to flaunt their intimacy in front of me.

"Wow... just the person you were looking for, darling," Zane sneered, his tone laced with venom.

Vespera offered a small, cold smile. Her eyes held no pity, only calculation. "You are right. I'd like to talk to you, Selah. It's urgent." She paused, brushing a lock of hair from Zane's forehead. "But the Alpha and I are on an evening stroll right now. You shall be summoned to the Alpha's office soon. Continue with your work."

No further words were spoken as they resumed their walk, leaving me standing alone in the courtyard, a profound dread settling heavy in my stomach.

Thirty anxiety-filled minutes later, I stood outside the heavy oak doors of Zane's office. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing my mind against the sounds seeping through the thick wood. Muffled, humiliating giggles and wet moans echoed into the hallway. The sickening noises turned my stomach into tight knots. I prayed I wasn't about to intrude on a deeply private moment, dreading the sheer embarrassment of witnessing my sister in an intimate position with a man.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, bit down hard on my lower lip, and gathered the fractured remnants of my courage. I knocked firmly against the oak and pushed the door open.

"Vespera, Alpha, it's me," I announced, keeping my voice as steady as possible.

"Come in," Zane replied, his tone dripping with arrogant authority and breathless satisfaction.

As the door clicked shut behind me, my eyes landed on the massive mahogany desk. Vespera was perched comfortably on Zane’s lap, her skirt hiked up, their bodies intimately tangled. The sight still stung, a sharp prick to whatever shredded pride I had left, even though Zane's brutal, visceral rejection had long since numbed the worst of the romantic ache in my chest.

"You summoned me," I stated flatly, keeping my eyes fixed carefully on the blank wall behind their heads to avoid the messy display of their affection.

"That's right," Zane said, shifting Vespera's weight on his lap. "I will be attending the dreaded Lycan King's mating ball as an honored guest in exactly three weeks. Vespera will be by my side."

He paused, his eyes narrowing at me with a cruel spark. "She needs a maid who will look after her needs, so you shall be coming with us. Maeve will be coming as well."

I raised a scarred eyebrow, a sudden, sharp spike of anxiety piercing straight through my chest.

"Maeve? Why?" I asked, unable to hide the tremor of panic bleeding into my words. "She is a healer, not a maid."

More importantly, Maeve was my absolute only friend in this hellish pack. She was the sole bright spot in my miserable existence. She was the one person who cared enough to brave the wrath of the judges, risking her own life to heal my brutal whipping scars in direct, treasonous defiance of the Alpha's law. Because of her gentle magic and cool salves, my back had a chance to knit together between punishments, even though the smooth, healed skin only angered the whipper more the following Sunday.

I had done everything in my meager power to protect Maeve's identity. I endured extra lashes just to keep her name out of my mouth. No one was supposed to know she was helping me. Why were they suddenly asking for her now? Were they aware of her treason?

The terrifying unknown made my stomach churn. My protective fear for her safety eclipsed my own dread of the upcoming ball.

"She would be coming with us because…" Zane let the silence stretch, a smug, victorious gleam lighting up his eyes as his hand rested possessively over Vespera's flat stomach. "Vespera is pregnant."