Chapter 2

I burst through the Pack House doors as if the devil himself was at my heels.

A huge portrait from our mating ceremony hung in the hall.

I was smiling like an idiot in the photo. I clung to Damon’s arm, thinking I had the whole world.

“Josie.” He had knelt before me then. His eyes were so sincere, I would have believed any lie he told. “We may not be fated mates, but I choose you. Between bloodline and true love, I will always choose you.”

I believed him.

Like a fool, I had actually believed him. A common warrior's daughter chosen by an Alpha Prince. The perfect fairytale.

Looking back now, it was just a cover. A convenient plan to hide his black magic experiment. A way to find a safe container for his beloved’s children.

I collapsed against the bed, my body giving out. The battle that destroyed me flashed in my mind again.

Rogue wolves attacked. A silver blade flew toward Damon’s heart.

I didn’t hesitate.

“No!”

I threw myself in front of him. I took the fatal blow with my own body.

When I woke again, Damon was holding me, sobbing. I was so weak. He handed me a note.

"My love, you've been through so much. I swear, I will be your ears. I'll protect you. Always!"

Five years.

Every silent night, I held onto that promise for warmth.

I see it now. From that moment on, I went from his lover to his “tool.”

A useful, obedient, deaf-mute tool who couldn’t spill his secrets.

The door opened. Damon walked in.

“Josie?” He rushed over, his brow furrowed. He was a phenomenal actor. And I was his greatest fool. “Is the baby bothering you?”

He reached out to touch my face.

I flinched back instinctively, like he was a venomous snake.

Damon’s hand froze mid-air. His eyes filled with hurt. “What’s wrong, baby? Do I smell of sweat?”

No, not sweat.

It was a sickeningly sweet, rotten smell.

It was Elara’s scent, mixed with the stench of leftover dark magic.

I’d noticed it a week ago when my sense of smell returned. I thought it was just my pregnancy making me sensitive.

Now I knew. It was the evidence left behind after their trysts.

“Let me see.” Damon’s hand moved to my neck, to our mating mark.

The moment his fingers touched my skin, a wave of revulsion hit me. I shoved him away.

“Don’t touch me!”

I used all my strength. Unprepared, Damon slammed hard against the wall.

“Josie!” He stared at me in shock. He couldn’t believe his meek little sheep would ever fight back.

He scrambled to his feet, his signed apology a mask of perfect, wounded innocence. “Did I do something wrong?”

The old me would have knelt and begged for his forgiveness.

Now, I just felt sick.

I trembled, fighting the urge to rip his throat out. I signed back, “The pregnancy makes me sensitive. I smell something… rotten.”

Damon’s pupils contracted for a split second before he covered it up. “You still need to behave, Josie. You are the Luna. You can’t be willful.”

He walked over and pressed a kiss to my forehead. It was the kiss of an arrogant owner.

“Get some rest. I have some ‘pack business’ to deal with in my study.”

He paused at the door, his back to me. A cold thought sliced through the mind link. Damn it. Is her wolf fighting the magic? I’ll have to increase the dosage.

The door clicked shut.

I clapped a hand over my mouth in the darkness, choking back a sob.

Increase the dosage?

That “calming tea” he made me drink every day for five years…

I touched my swollen belly. This wasn't a miracle growing inside me. It was a monster. And it was devouring me from the inside out.

I pulled a file from a hidden compartment under the bed.

It was an application I’d prepared long ago—a benefit for the family of a warrior who died in service. A place in a neutral-territory sanctuary.

But I picked up a pen. In the applicant field, I added my own name.

Reason for application: Severe pregnancy-related depression. Requesting transfer to the "Moon Goddess Sanctuary" for prayer and a peaceful birth.

It was the only absolute neutral zone in the werewolf alliance. An Alpha’s power couldn’t reach it.

It was my only escape route.