Chapter 5

Alex didn't show his face at the Blackwood territory for days.

He didn't send me a single message either.

I didn't ask. I didn't go looking.

I went back to the Blackwood Pack's main residence alone.

Every day I sat quietly in my room, sorting through the things that belonged to a life with Alex.

Gossip spread through the pack quickly.

They said the former Alpha was living with Vivian in an old hunting cabin on the outskirts of the territory.

They said the two were inseparable.

Some even claimed Alex had publicly promised to formally take Vivian as his new Luna once things settled down.

I never found out who made sure these rumors reached the main house.

But servants and guards kept "accidentally" mentioning them within earshot.

I acted like I heard nothing.

I went through the things I'd collected over the years, one by one.

A wolf fang pendant — the first gift Alex brought me from the training grounds when we were young.

The braided leather bracelet he'd made for me by hand the day we confirmed we were Fated Mates.

All those messages full of promises he'd sent over the years. I used to screenshot them and print them out — a thick stack of paper.

Now I packed everything into a cardboard box.

I had Bramwell drive it to Alex at the hunting cabin.

I tucked a note inside. Three words: "Returning your belongings."

Bramwell came back and reported.

He said Alex stared at the box for a long time.

But he never opened it. He just shoved it into a corner.

Not long after the box was delivered, word came in.

Vivian, visibly pregnant, had knelt on the public road outside the Ashford Pack's territory gates.

Bramwell pulled up the security footage for me.

On the screen, she was on her knees, her face drenched in tears.

There were several visible wounds across her face.

Her voice was loud enough for every pack member passing by to hear.

"Please, Luna, spare me and my child..."

"I've already been banished. I have no one. Why does the Luna keep sending rogues to hunt me down..."

"I'm guilty, but the baby is innocent. Please, Alpha King, have mercy on us..."

The crowd outside the gates grew.

Some wore expressions of sympathy. Whispers started spreading.

They said that no matter what happened between the Luna and the former Alpha, sending people to hunt down a pregnant, banished woman was too cruel.

Others openly questioned me.

They said I was abusing the Alpha King's power, that I'd gone too far — that not even a pregnant woman was safe.

Overnight, my reputation and the Ashford Pack's image were dragged through the mud.

That evening, a car screeched to a halt at the front entrance.

Alex stormed into my room, eyes red, reeking of alcohol.

He crossed the room in two strides, grabbed my wrist, and hauled me out of my chair.

"Ivy, wasn't it enough that you destroyed her career as a Healer a year ago?"

"She's pregnant now, and you're still sending rogues after her?"

"One attempt wasn't enough, so you tried again? Have you lost all humanity?"

I looked at him coldly.

"It wasn't me," I said. "That was a setup Vivian staged. The marks on her face — she did that to herself."

"She put on that whole performance outside Ashford territory for your benefit."

Alex didn't hear a word.

He shoved my hand away, stepped back, and fixed me with a hard stare.

There was no rage in his voice. Just a cold, matter-of-fact contempt.

"I stopped loving you a long time ago."

"The only reason I kept this Bond was your father's power and the Ashford family's generosity over the years."

"Did you really think I'd had a change of heart?" A bitter laugh escaped his lips. "I was just repaying a debt."

He paused, then delivered the cruelest line of all.

"If you could have been as sensible as Vivian — quiet, undemanding, not making a scene — I could have at least respected you."

"But you had to push everything past the point of no return."

"At the end of the day, you survived that miscarriage a year ago because you were lucky."

"But don't expect me to feel guilty about it forever."

My entire body began to tremble.

A year ago, when I was unconscious after the miscarriage, he'd sat by my bed day and night.

He held my hand and called my name, over and over, soft and tender.

And now he was telling me to my face that I was just lucky I didn't die.

Then — a tearing pain ripped through my abdomen.

I doubled over, both hands clutching my stomach.

Cold sweat soaked through my clothes instantly.

"Alex..." My voice shook. "The baby... call the Healer..."

Alex saw the pain on my face. Something flickered in his eyes — a flash of panic.

But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that cold, detached mask.

"This again?" He scoffed. "Every time you lose an argument, you use the baby as a weapon."

"Vivian already checked your prenatal records. Your pregnancy has been perfectly stable."

"If you want to put on an act, do it alone. Don't drag the baby into it."

With that, he turned and walked toward the door without a shred of hesitation.

I used every last ounce of strength to reach out and grab the hem of his shirt.

He stopped. Looked down at my fingers clutching the fabric.

"Give it a rest," he said flatly.

But looking at my ashen face, a flicker of doubt crossed his eyes.

Just as he was about to reach for me — his phone buzzed.

The screen lit up. A message from Vivian.

She said her stomach felt uncomfortable. She wanted Alex to come right away.

Alex glanced at the screen, turned, and walked out without looking back.

My hand grasped at empty air.

The pain consumed me. My body slid helplessly toward the cold floor.