Chapter 11

Serena

The first thing I heard was the sound of weeping.

Soft, broken sobs, like someone trying not to be heard. But I knew that voice. I had heard it all my life—shouting warnings, whispering lullabies, praying behind closed doors when she thought I was asleep.

My mother.

I opened my eyes slowly. The ceiling was unfamiliar at first—plain, white, and blinding under a fluorescent light. Not the Alpha’s wing. Not the servant’s quarters.

The clinic.

A sterile scent clung to the air. Antiseptic and metal. The pillow beneath me was thin and scratchy. My mouth was dry, and my entire body ached like I’d been hit by a truck.

Or worse—by truth.

I turned my head, barely able to move, and there she was.

Ma sat beside my bed, her back hunched forward, face buried in her palms. Her shoulders trembled with every cry.

Next to her stood the pack doctor, a kind older woman with streaks of gray in her hair. She held a chart in her hands and gave me a gentle nod when she saw my eyes open.

“You’re awake,” she said softly.

I tried to speak, but my voice cracked into nothing. My throat burned from dehydration and swallowed tears.

Ma looked up then, her eyes swollen and red, her face pale from worry.

“Serena,” she breathed, reaching for my hand. “Oh thank the Moon.”

Her fingers were warm and trembling. She clutched me like she was afraid I’d vanish again.

“What… happened?” I croaked.

“You fainted,” the doctor said, stepping closer. “You hit the floor hard. You’ve been unconscious for almost two hours.”

My stomach twisted.

Right.

Kael.

The hallway. The shouting. The betrayal.

The words maid, mistake, blackmail still echoed in my ears.

I shut my eyes again.

The doctor sighed and placed the chart on the table beside the bed. “Physically, you’re fine. But your blood pressure is dangerously high. You need to avoid stress.”

I let out a hollow laugh.

Avoid stress?

I had been rejected, humiliated, and discarded in front of half the pack.

Stress was my new blood type.

“Serena,” Ma whispered, brushing my hair back from my damp forehead. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve never let you go to him alone. I should’ve stopped you.”

I shook my head, tears slipping down the side of my face into the pillow.

“It was never going to end differently,” I whispered. “He was always going to deny me. He was always going to choose her.”

Ma’s face crumpled. She buried her head on my arm and cried again. “You didn’t deserve this. Not this way.”

“I did,” I whispered. “I should’ve listened to you. I should’ve kept my head down.”

“No,” she said quickly, sitting up. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”

“I let him use me. I let myself believe he cared. I thought… even after everything… that maybe he’d protect me. Even if it was just for the baby.”

I turned away, sobbing into the pillow now.

“But I was just a body to him. Just a mistake.”

The words fell like stones from my lips.

I hated him.

I hated how he looked at me like I was dirt under his boots.

I hated how he touched me like I mattered—then threw me away like I didn’t.

I hated that part of me still wanted him.

“I hate him,” I whispered.

But my voice broke. Because the truth was—deep down—I didn’t.

And that made it hurt worse.

The door opened suddenly. The doctor turned toward it. My mother wiped her face quickly.

One of the guards stepped inside.

Young, tall, and tense. He looked like he didn’t want to be the one bringing news. He held a folded slip of paper in his hand and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Forgive the interruption,” he said stiffly. “But I have orders from the Beta. On behalf of Alpha Kael.”

I sat up, my chest tightening. Ma stiffened.

The guard stepped forward and placed the folded paper on the table.

“You’ve been asked to leave the estate,” he said, eyes avoiding mine. “Both of you.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

My mother stood, her voice shaking. “You’re firing us?”

“The Beta says you’re lucky you’re not being imprisoned,” the guard continued. “Making a false claim against the Alpha is a punishable offense.”

“It wasn’t false,” I said, voice hoarse but steady.

“I’m just the messenger,” the guard said, apologetic but firm. “You’re to vacate your quarters by nightfall.”

My body went cold.

Nightfall?

I had just woken up. I hadn’t even processed what had happened. And now they were throwing me out like garbage. Like I never existed.

“What about the baby?” Ma asked. “She needs medical care. Rest. She’s not even stable!”

“The clinic won’t stop you from being treated,” he replied. “But it will no longer be under the Moonclaw Pack’s care.”

Tears gathered in my eyes.

It wasn’t just about the job.

It was about the home.

This mansion—this cold, cruel place—was the only world I had ever known. I grew up in these halls. Slept in these beds. Ate in this kitchen. I had watched the moon rise from its windows and felt the first stings of heartbreak inside its walls.

And now it was spitting me out like I was filth.

All because I had the courage to speak.

Because I carried a life that Kael wanted to pretend didn’t exist.

I nodded slowly.

“Okay,” I whispered.

The guard glanced at me once, nodded stiffly, and left.

The door clicked shut behind him like the end of a sentence.

Ma sat back down beside me, shell-shocked. Her lips moved but no words came.

“We’ll figure it out,” I said.

But even I didn’t believe it.

I had no money. No plan. No friends. I was pregnant, jobless, and emotionally shattered. The only thing I had left in this world was my mother—and the tiny heartbeat growing inside me.

My hand instinctively touched my stomach.

He was all I had left of Kael.

But even that thought felt like a curse now.

“He doesn’t want us,” I said out loud.

Ma touched my hand gently. “Then we don’t want him either.”

I wanted to believe that. I really did.

But deep down, a part of me still wanted him to come through that door. Still wanted him to fight for me. To say he was sorry. That he was afraid. That he would fix it. That it meant something to him.

But the door never opened.

No footsteps came.

No one was coming to save me.

He didn’t even have the dignity to come throw me out himself , he sent messengers

I was indeed nothing but a body to him and he devoured me when he needed to and discarded me like trash when he was done.

My world just ended in the blink of an eye and my dreams shattered .

I disappointed myself, my mother and I am paying for it.

And as the sun began to set outside the clinic window, I finally understood what heartbreak truly felt like:

It wasn’t loud.

It was quiet.

It was the sound of being erased.