Kesatria Mawar

Serena

It started with a question I couldn’t answer, and ended with my whole world collapsing.

For five days, my mother asked the same question.

And for five days, I swallowed the answer like poison.

“Who is he, Serena?”

She never let me breathe. It didn’t matter if I was scrubbing dishes, sweeping ash off the floor, or folding uniforms. Her voice always found me. Quiet sometimes, a whisper when we crossed paths. Other times sharp, cutting through silence like a knife.

She wasn’t asking because she was nosy. I knew that. She was asking because she wanted to protect me. To fix things.

But I couldn’t give her the name.

Not because I was saving him.

Because I was saving myself.

Once I said it out loud—everything would shatter.

And tonight, the shattering came.

I was sitting on my bed, hands raw from bleach, stomach twisting from hunger. Ma stood by the window, arms crossed, apron still tied around her waist, her bun slipping loose.

Her voice was low. Cold. Tired.

“I’m asking you one last time. Who is the father?”

My chest squeezed. “Please don’t do this tonight.”

“I’ve asked you kindly. I gave you time.” She turned then, eyes red, sharp as glass. “But you keep walking this house like a ghost. Pale. Jumping at shadows. Crying when you think I don’t see you. You’re killing yourself, Serena.”

I whispered, “I’m trying.”

“Trying to what? To waste away?”

Her words sank like rocks in my stomach.

She stepped closer. Softer now. “What are you protecting him from? If he abandoned you, let me hate him. If he’s denying the baby, let me fight for you. But how can I stand beside you when you won’t even tell me who we’re standing against?”

My eyes burned. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple.”

She fired guesses like arrows. “A guard? A guest? Someone you love?”

I couldn’t answer.

And that silence was an answer all on its own.

Her breath hitched. Her voice cracked. “You still care about him?”

The words broke me.

I didn’t plan to say it. But my throat ached, and my body felt too heavy, and suddenly

“Kael.”

Ma blinked.

I said it again, smaller this time. “Kael.”

Her face froze. “What?”

I lifted my head. “Alpha Kael. The baby is his.”

She stumbled back like I’d struck her.

“No.” Her voice shook. “Serena, no.”

Tears blurred my eyes. “Yes.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. Her whole body trembling. “The Alpha?”

I nodded. “I’ve never known anyone else, Ma.”

The silence after that was worse than yelling.

“How… how did it happen?” she whispered, like she was begging the answer to be different.

So I told her. The party. The wine. His stumble. My hand helping him. His eyes holding mine. The heat. The hunger.

“It just happened,” I choked out. “I didn’t expect it. I didn’t plan it. I didn’t even think he’d see me.”

I broke down. “I thought maybe… maybe I mattered. Even if it was just one night.”

Her face—God, her face. I’d never seen her afraid of anything before. But now she looked terrified.

“You don’t understand what you’ve done,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“No, you don’t!” she snapped, sudden fire in her voice. “He’s the Alpha! He’s not just a man you sneak off with he’s power, Serena. He’s pride. He’s a ruler. And you…you think he wants a scandal like this? A human maid?”

“I didn’t choose it!”

“But you let it happen!”

Her voice cracked, my body shook.

“I tried to forget,” I sobbed. “I tried to pretend it didn’t matter. But it did. And now I’m pregnant.”

Her tears spilled then. “You’re carrying the child of the one man who can ruin us with a single word. Do you understand? When he finds out”

I cut in, whispering, “What if he rejects me?”

Her face broke. Completely.

“You think his Luna will allow this?” she demanded. “You think the elders, the wolves who already hate you, will accept this? You’ll be destroyed, Serena. Both of you.”

Her voice was sharp but her hands were shaking.

“Then what do I do?” I cried.

She turned away, pressing her forehead to the wall. I watched her shoulders shake. My mother, breaking because of me.

It wasn’t sleeping with Kael that felt like the worst sin.

It wasn’t even getting pregnant.

It was this—breaking her.

When she finally faced me again, her voice was hoarse, but steady.

“You have to tell him. Soon.”

“I’m scared.”

She cupped my face, eyes wet but strong. “So am I. But hiding won’t save you.”

Her words clung to me the whole next morning.

I swore I’d tell him with dignity. No begging. No shame. Just the truth.

I rehearsed it in my head.

I braced for every reaction.

I swore I wouldn’t cry.

But nothing prepared me for the real thing.

I found him by the stairwell after a meeting. His presence always filled the air—commanding, cold, heavy.

“Alpha Kael,” I whispered.

He stopped. Turned. “Yes?”

I begged quietly, “I need a word. Please.”

He studied me for a second, then nodded.

We moved to a quiet stretch of hallway. He folded his arms. “Well?”

My chest heaved. “It’s about that night.”

His face hardened instantly.

I swallowed. “The night after your birthday. Something happened between us.”

His jaw locked. “That night was a mistake.”

The words ripped through me.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he said flat. “If it even happened—it shouldn’t have.”

My stomach dropped. “You think I planned this?”

“I said it was a mistake.”

I snapped. My voice too loud, too raw.

“Which part? The part where you kissed me? Or the part where you touched me like I mattered?”

His eyes widened at my boldness.

“You weren’t that drunk, Kael. You knew what you were doing. You called my name. You looked at me like I wasn’t just a maid.”

“Lower your voice,” he warned.

“No.” My hands shook but I stood taller. “You don’t get to silence me anymore.”

And then footsteps echoed behind us. Laughter. Voices.

Mirah appeared first, draped in silver. Her father. The elders. Guests.

Kael’s eyes darted to them, then back to me. His voice a growl. “Leave. Now.”

But I couldn’t.

The words spilled before I could stop them.

“I’m pregnant.”

The hallway went still.

His face drained of color.

“I’m carrying your child.”

A gasp broke the silence.

Every eye turned to us.

Kael’s horror froze me in place.

“You must be insane,” he hissed.

“I’m not. You know it’s true.” My voice shook. “I’ve never been with anyone else—”

“You’re lying,” he cut in. “You’re trying to ruin me.”

“Why would I”

“Because you’re a maid,” he spat. “Because you’re desperate. You think this will force me to claim you.”

The words carved me open.

“I would never”

“You’re nothing,” he snapped. “A mistake. And this child? If it even exists, it’s not mine.”

The whispers swelled. Mirah’s smile twisted cruel. The Beta froze on the stairs, pale as stone.

Kael leaned closer, his voice like venom.

“I would never touch a human willingly. Do you understand? Never.”

I felt my knees weaken, my vision blur.

“Now leave,” he said coldly. “Before I have you dragged out.”

My legs gave way. The marble floor slammed into me. Voices blurred together. My mother’s scream. Hands grabbing me. Shouts.

Then everything went black.

And I fell.