Chapter Four: The Shattered Truth

Jessica did not sleep that night.

The words she had overheard Aria is pregnant throbbed in her skull like a war drum that refused to fade. She tossed beneath her sheets, the fabric tangling around her legs, the night air stifling though the windows were thrown wide open. Every time her eyes closed, she saw it again: the proud Alpha’s daughter reduced to a trembling girl, tears streaking her cheeks, clutching her stomach as though it might shatter.

Jessica buried her face into her pillow, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. She could not stop trembling. This secret this devastating truth was a blade in her hands. One slip, one whisper, and she could change everything.

At first, her heart wavered.

Aria had never been cruel to her. She had never mocked Jessica, never humiliated her, never lorded her status over her. If anything, Aria had been kinder than most, offering smiles where others sneered, extending hands where others turned away.

But kindness could not silence the voice inside Jessica’s chest the voice of envy, of bitterness, of years spent in her shadow.

This is my chance.

All her life, she had been “less.” Beta Lucas’s daughter, always weighed against the Alpha’s heir and always found wanting. She had bled in training, pushed herself past breaking, only to hear her father’s praise aimed at another man’s child.

“You must be more like Aria.”

“Why can’t you fight like her? Why can’t you lead like her?”

Every word had been a wound. Every comparison, a chain around her neck.

But now?

Now Jessica held the weapon that could sever Aria’s place forever.

If she were the one to expose the Alpha’s heir, if she carried this shame to the right ears, no one would ever compare her again. No one would ever say Aria’s name above hers.

By dawn, her decision was carved in stone.

And by dusk, the whispers began to spread like wildfire.

Aria felt them before she heard them.

The stares.

The silences.

The way mothers tugged their children closer when she passed, as though her presence itself might stain them.

She walked through the corridor with Elora at her side, each step heavier than the last. The air seemed to thicken around her, pressing against her chest.

“Elora…” Her voice came out small, trembling. “Why are they looking at me like that?”

Elora’s pale face said it all. She had heard the whispers too.

“She’s with child.”

“The Alpha’s daughter, breeding without a mate.”

“The Moon Goddess has forsaken her.”

Aria’s chest tightened until she could barely draw breath. She clutched her cloak tighter around herself, as though thin fabric could shield her from the poison dripping off their tongues.

Who betrayed me? Who told them?

Her throat burned as her vision blurred with tears. By the time she reached her chambers, her legs gave way and she collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in the pillow. Her body shook with silent sobs.

“Elora,” she gasped, her words breaking, “it’s over. They know. Everyone knows.”

Elora sat beside her, her hands trembling as she brushed damp strands from Aria’s forehead. Her eyes glistened with helplessness. “Stay calm, Aria. It could still be gossip, nothing more. If we deny it, if we stay quiet—”

The heavy slam of the door cut her words short.

Alpha Mason filled the frame. His presence crashed into the chamber like a storm, his aura so thick and suffocating that Elora dropped her gaze instantly, bowing low. Her shoulders shook beneath the weight of it.

Aria sat frozen, her pulse pounding violently in her ears.

“Leave us,” Mason ordered, his tone sharp as a blade.

“Alpha, she needs—”

“Leave. Now.”

Elora’s lip quivered, but she obeyed, her worried eyes lingering on Aria before slipping out.

The silence that followed was worse than the whispers outside.

Mason stood rigid, his hands clenched behind his back as though holding his fury together with sheer will. His voice came low, deceptively calm, but each word carried the weight of thunder.

“Aria. Tell me what I have heard is a lie.”

Her stomach dropped. This was the first thing he had spoken to her since the night of her wolf’s awakening. Now, his voice was wrapped in fury so sharp it cut her to pieces.

Her lips trembled. “Father…”

“Tell me!” he roared, stepping closer, his eyes burning. “Tell me you’re not carrying a child!”

Her throat closed. She tried to speak, but her voice betrayed her. Her trembling hands moved to her stomach instinctively, a gesture she couldn’t control.

That was enough.

Mason’s face hardened into stone. His fury cooled into something colder, something far more terrifying. For the first time in her life, Aria did not see her father. She saw only the Alpha. The judge. The executioner.

“You shame this pack,” he hissed. “You shame me.”

Her tears spilled in rivers. “I didn’t ask for this! Do you think I wanted this? I was attacked—I was—”

She bit her lip so hard it bled, choking back the truth.

Mason’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “By who?”

She shook her head violently. “I don’t know. I can’t—”

“Then you admit it,” he snapped. “You lay with a man outside your bond. And now you carry his bastard.”

The words struck like claws across her chest.

Her heart splintered. Why won’t he believe me? Why won’t he see I’m the victim?

She collapsed to her knees, clutching at his cloak, sobbing until her voice broke. “Please, Father, please, I swear I didn’t betray you. I swear on the Moon Goddess herself.”

But Mason turned his face away, lips curling as though the sight of her disgusted him.

Then came the words colder than any winter wind, heavier than any blade.

“You are no daughter of mine.”

The world stopped.

Her breath caught in her throat. “W-what?”

Mason’s jaw tightened. His eyes no longer blazed with anger, but with something darker.

“I should have told you long ago,” he said, his voice flat and merciless. “You are not of my blood, Aria. You never were.”

Her body went rigid. The air left her lungs.

Not his daughter?

Her entire world the love she thought she knew, the identity she had clung to crumbled in an instant.

“No…” she whispered, shaking her head violently. “No, that’s not true. You’re lying. You’re just angry”

But Mason’s eyes never wavered. Cold. Certain. Final.

“You were never mine to begin with.”

Those words echoed louder than the pack’s whispers. Louder than her wolf’s cry of anguish inside her chest.

Her stomach twisted. Her nails dug into the mark on her wrist, as though the cursed brand could anchor her in a reality that was shattering around her.

If I am not his daughter… then who am I?

Her sobs filled the chamber, sharp and broken, echoing against stone walls. Mason turned, his cloak snapping behind him, and walked out without another glance.

The door slammed.

And Aria was left alone, shattered on the floor, drowning in the silence her father left behind.