#Chapter 3: Disillusionment

NATALIA

The clinic smelled like lemon-scented bleach and something sharper—sterile and clean, but not comforting. I sat in the exam room, cold paper crinkling beneath me, one hand resting over the small swell that wasn’t visible yet, but that I could feel in every breath.

The doctor entered quietly, glancing down at the chart in her hands. She looked young—maybe too young to be the bearer of life-altering news—but her expression was serious.

“Luna Natalia,” she began gently, “I’ve reviewed your hormone panels and did a full internal scan. Your pregnancy is progressing well, and the fetus is strong. In fact…” She looked up. “The baby’s readings are more robust than usual—even stronger than the average Alpha heir.”

A rush of warmth flooded my chest. My baby. Strong. Thriving. I clung to the word like a lifeline.

“But,” she added, her tone softening, “your body… is not keeping pace.”

I stiffened. “What does that mean?”

“There’s strain,” she said. “Your hormone levels indicate instability, particularly around the markers tied to the mate bond. You’re already experiencing mild depletion. It’s not dangerous yet, but if it continues…” She hesitated. “A stable bond would help. Reinforce you.”

“But we’re not marked,” I said.

“No,” she confirmed. “You and Alpha Andrei share a bond, but it’s… partial. Unstable.”

Of course, I thought. Lilith was his first love. Of course our bond wouldn’t be as strong.

The doctor kept talking, unaware of the emotions fluctuating wildly through me.  

“In cases where the mother is unmarked, the bond doesn’t provide the same kind of physiological protection. Your condition is manageable—for now. But fluctuations could be risky.”

I looked up at her. Worried.

“If the bond weakens,” she went on, “the baby will draw more from you, and your body may not hold up under the strain.”

I nodded slowly, absorbing her words like cold water soaking into dry earth. “What about… rejection?” I asked carefully. “Would it make things worse?”

The doctor blinked. “Rejection?” She looked at me more closely now. “In that case, the bond would break entirely. You would lose any residual connection. The fetus wouldn’t be affected by the mate bond after that… but your recovery could be more complicated, especially given your current levels.”

I thanked her and left before she could press further. I could see the concern behind her eyes, and I knew what she wanted to ask. Why would a Luna even consider rejection while pregnant?

Because she didn’t know what I knew.

Because this house—the man I lived beside—was no longer the anchor I thought he’d become. Because Lilith was back. And with her, came the unraveling of everything I’d quietly hoped for.

I walked the long corridor back to the main wing of the hospital, heels echoing faintly off the tile. Andrei hadn’t come home the night before. I didn’t ask the staff where he was. I didn’t need to.

As I rounded the corner near the south wing, I caught a glimpse of him. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Familiar in a way that still made my chest ache.

He was standing outside one of the private rooms.

Lilith’s.

I paused before he noticed me, retreating to the shadow of an alcove just beyond view.

The door was cracked.

“…we promised each other,” Lilith was saying, her voice watery with well-practiced grief. “That I would be your Luna. That I would give you an heir. And now…”

Andrei’s voice followed, low and careful. “You’re here now. Safe. That’s all that matters.”

Lilith sniffled. “But you’re married.”

“It’s a contract,” he said.

A silence. Then:

“We can fix this,” she whispered. “Give her some money. A house, if you feel guilty. Let her go. She’ll understand.”

My heart thudded violently in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

“Unless… you don’t want to reject her,” Lilith added, her voice turning coy. “Unless you’ve grown attached.”

Andrei gave a soft exhale. “You’re overthinking it,” he said. “Natalia and you… you’re not the same.”

He didn’t say I mattered. He didn’t say he loved me. He didn’t even defend the marriage. Just a simple distinction. Two different women. No comparison. No weight.

That was all I needed to hear.

The mate bond inside me wavered. Not broken, but shaking. Like something delicate caught in a storm.

I pressed a hand to my abdomen.

No. He wouldn’t get this child. I wouldn’t let him pretend to care only when it suited him. This baby was mine. Not a pawn. Not a consolation prize. Mine.

He wasn’t getting it. He wouldn’t even know about it.

I turned and walked away.

***

That evening, the front door creaked open just as the sun dipped below the treetops. Andrei stepped into the house like he belonged there, like the air hadn’t changed between us.

I was in the parlor, going over patrol rosters. I didn’t look up.

He didn’t wait for a greeting.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“Do we?”

He scowled. “You attacked Lilith.”

I stopped cold. The word attacked echoed in my head like a slap. I turned to face him, slowly, deliberately. “She grabbed me by the throat.”

His scowl deepened. “She said you threatened her.”

“She came into my room,” I said, voice level, “told me to step aside, and said I was never meant to be here.”

“She’s grieving,” he said, like that was a good enough reason. He sighed, folding his arms across his chest. “Even if that were true, you didn’t have to draw blood.”

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “You’re right. I should’ve let her crush my windpipe instead.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Natalia. You’re a Luna. You have responsibilities.”

The title used to mean something. Now it just felt like another leash. I looked away, swallowing hard. “No,” I said softly. “I had responsibilities. But you made it clear this morning that I was just a placeholder.”

His arms dropped to his sides, a flicker of confusion—or guilt—crossing his expression. “What are you talking about?”

I met his eyes, refusing to flinch.

“I see now,” I said, my voice quieter than before, but sharper. “You never intended to renew our contract. Not even after all these years.”

“Natalia—” He took a step toward me but I wouldn’t let him touch me. Couldn’t.

“I would’ve stayed.” The words came fast now, rising like a tide I couldn’t hold back. “I would’ve given you everything. I did give you everything. But you never saw me, did you? Not really. I was convenient. Dutiful. Temporary.”

He didn’t deny it.

That silence was louder than any answer.

“I want a divorce,” I said.

Andrei blinked. Once. Twice. Then he went very still.

“I’ll step down as Luna,” I added, each word carved out of me like stone. “Effective immediately.”

“Natalia…”

“I’m done.” I shook my head, feeling something inside me snap into place—final, firm. “I won’t stand here and be accused, scolded, or humiliated by someone who never wanted me.”

A beat of silence stretched between us, taut and full of things unsaid.

Then I turned and walked away.

And he didn’t follow.