Chapter 5

Selene

It had been a few days since I started helping out at Parisa's café.

I stuck mostly to small tasks. Wiping tables, refilling sugar jars, slicing pastries for the display counter. It kept my mind occupied, and my body at least partially distracted from the weight I carried—both physically and emotionally. Each night I lay in bed with aching feet and a recessed feeling I couldn't quite explain. Gratitude, maybe, or guilt. Or something else I didn't want to name.

Parisa always hovered. Not unkindly, but with this constant... watchfulness. Like she expected me to break or vanish at any second. Her smile never faded, not really. It just... settled on her face like it had nowhere else to go.

Today, as I swept by the windows, I paused. The café looked fine, but something felt off. I thought maybe some flowers would help. Something simple—just a splash of color on the tables to breathe some life into the place.

So I made a decision. I wiped my hands, grabbed my coat, and slipped out toward the floral shop two streets over.

The air was crisp, and for the first time in weeks, I felt a flicker of peace. Like maybe I was starting to find a rhythm again. I took my time walking, letting my steps fall in sync with the faint thump of my heartbeat.

As I crossed the street, I caught a glimpse of someone standing by the alley near the bookstore. My heart stuttered. For a second, I could've sworn it was Tristan. The way he turned his head, the shape of his profile, it all felt too familiar.

But the moment passed. A blink, and he was gone. I shook it off, telling myself it was the pregnancy messing with my head again, then headed back to the café with a small bundle of daisies tucked under my arm.

When I walked through the door, Parisa's expression changed in an instant. She looked furious.

"What were you thinking?" she snapped. "Wandering the streets in your condition? What if something had happened?"

"I—I was just getting some flowers. I didn't go far..."

She closed the distance between us quickly. "That's not the point. You should've told me. You can't just disappear like that."

I blinked, stunned by how angry she was. "I didn't know I needed permission."

Parisa's voice lowered . "Go to your room and rest. Now."

I nodded quickly and entered through the door that lead to the house.  As I shut the door behind me, I exhaled and leaned against it. My heart pounded harder than it should. I'd never seen that side of her before.

I wrapped my arms around my bump and sank down on the edge of the bed. I'd been feeling it for days—that strange sense of being watched. Sometimes, even when Parisa wasn't around, I felt eyes on me. And now, I couldn't deny that something was off. Really off.

"You need to get out of here."

I looked around in panic, but there was no one in the room.

"Don't be afraid," the voice continued.

And that's when I realized—it was coming from inside me. From my wolf. She had finally awakened.

The rush that filled my chest was both exhilarating and terrifying. I wasn't alone anymore. My wolf... she had been silent for so long, but now she was here. And she was warning me.

"She's hiding something. You need to run. Before it's too late."

I shot up from the bed. I didn't need another sign. Parisa wasn't who she claimed to be. And I was done waiting around to find out what her real plan was.

I didn't waste time. I packed up the few things I had—my worn-out coat, a clean shirt, the meager coins and cash I'd saved from café tips. I tucked everything into a small cloth bag, taking slow, silent steps toward the hallway.

The front door was locked. Not just latched. Locked. Had she noticed I was going to make a run for my life? Was that why it was locked? Because it wasn't when I came in.

I tiptoed around the side of the cottage to the back. Her voice floated in from the café completely unaware of what I was about to do.

Behind the garden, I found a rusted ladder leaned against the wall, probably used for roof repairs. My hands shook as I managed to dragged it to the far end of the courtyard, where a short stone wall divided her property from the alley behind.

This was my only way out. I started climbing, my breath caught in my throat with each creak of the metal rungs. The higher I went, the more my pulse pounded in my ears. Almost there. Just a few more steps.

"Selene."

Her voice wasn't gentle. It was sharp. Commanding.

"Get down. Now!"

I didn't. I climbed faster.

"You'll regret this." she barked and next thing I felt the ladder shifting.

Not by itself. Parisa was gripping it, shaking it with both hands. My heart leapt into my throat. I screamed for her to stop, but she only sneered up at me, eyes wild with something far worse than anger.

The ladder jerked hard. I lost my footing. The world tilted—sky, wall, garden all blurring together and I fell.

Pain exploded through my body as I hit the ground, my hip slamming against stone. But it wasn't the bruises or broken bones that stole my breath. It was the blood I saw.

Warm. Thick. Spreading fast between my legs. I was losing my baby.

"Help..." I croaked as pain shot through me, "Please... call someone..."

Parisa hovered above me, frozen. For a terrifying second, I thought she'd just walk away. But then the panic hit her eyes.

She scrambled for her phone and called the ambulance.  She hung up and knelt beside me.

"You'll be fine," she whispered, more to herself than to me.

But I saw it—the guilt. The terror. And something else that chilled me to the bone.

**

I didn't know how it happened but I found myself in the hospital. I didn't know what Parisa told the doctors, because within minutes, nurses arrived with a gurney and they moved me down the stark white hallway. My protests were drowned in medical jargon and reassurances I didn't trust.

When I tried to resist—when I pleaded to know what was happening, they strapped me down.

I screamed. No one listened.

The cold sting of a needle pierced my skin, and my vision began to blur. The ceiling lights above me flickered like stars blinking out, one by one.

Then Parisa's voice came through. Sharp. Remorseful.

"Cut her open... Make sure the baby is intact." And then, darkness.

—

When I woke, everything ached. My body felt heavy. My head, like it had been split in two. But worst of all was the ache in my abdomen.

Something was missing. I lifted the thin sheet and saw the surgical bandage pressed over stitches.

Panic and pain rose in my chest. I reached for my belly with trembling hands. Flat. Empty.

Wait….My baby. Where was she?

Tears blurred my vision. My breath caught. And then I heard her—my wolf.

It's a girl... our girl...She was alive. Somewhere.

I forced myself out of the bed, even though my legs wobbled beneath me. My hands gripped the IV pole for support. Every breath felt like fire against the wound they had carved into me.

But I didn't care. She was out there.

I staggered toward the door, pulling it open inch by inch. The hallway beyond was quiet. Too quiet. Parisa had done this. I knew it in my bones. She'd taken my baby. Lied. Manipulated the doctors. Used me like I was nothing more than a vessel.

She took my baby. My wolf urged me on, even as blood slowly soaked through the edge of the bandage. I made it halfway down the hall. No one was around.

Even if they are, I don't think they can stop me. I just had to reach the exit. Had to find her.

But the pain surged—hot and merciless. My stitches tore open. I winced, stumbling to the floor as black dots danced across my vision.

My body gave in before I could. I collapsed to the cold tiles, heart screaming with desperation. My baby was gone.