Chapter 2

The moment the door slammed shut, the walls seemed to close in on me. My claustrophobia roared to life.

A cold sweat broke across my skin. I tried to scream, but all that came out was a faint, broken gasp.

"No... No..."

I swung blindly, trying to shove away a darkness that had no edges.

I knocked over the easel and stumbled into the paint tins, sending jars clattering and rolling across the floor. The studio filled with the sharp, acrid stink of solvents until every breath scraped my throat.

At last, my strength gave out. I folded on the floor, making myself as small as I could, and the edges of the world bled away into a swirling black.

I didn't know how long I lay there before the door opened again.

Light speared the room and my eyes watered. I forced my head up and saw Vivian in the doorway. She must have come back for something. The second she saw me on the floor, her expression turned contemptuous.

"New trick, huh? Playing dead? I'm not buying it."

She snorted and stepped over me. When her gaze fell on the spilled paint, fury snapped through her face.

"Do you have any idea what these pigments cost? I had them flown in from the Neutral Territories! You ruined them on purpose!" she snarled.

I didn't even get a chance to defend myself. Her kick landed full in my abdomen.

A scream tore out of me. Pain ripped through my core, sharp and twisting, as if someone were wringing me out from the inside.

I could feel it then—the pup's fragile heartbeat growing weaker.

Vivian only huffed, as if she had nudged aside a piece of trash. She turned, shut the door, and the lock clicked again.

The pain went from sharp to a dull, throbbing numbness. I lay in a slick of paint and my own blood and finally stopped fighting.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to the tiny life inside me. "I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you."

Just when I was sinking into despair, footsteps returned. The door opened again, and my personal maid, Elsie Quinn, walked in carrying a cleaning caddy.

The moment she saw me, she let out a shriek, dropping to her knees.

"Luna Sutton, why are you here? Oh, my God! What happened?" Elsie reached for me, then froze at the sight of the blood pooling beneath me.

She covered her mouth and sobbed, "You're bleeding so much! Does it hurt? Who did this to you?"

I caught her wrist with what little strength I had left. "Save my pup. Call Alpha..."

Elsie saw the blood beneath me and understood at once. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and called Cassian.

Cassian's voice came through the line, cold and impatient. "What is the emergency? Vivian already told me Sutton spilled paint. That red on the floor is pigment. She's putting on a show! Leave her there to think about her actions!"

"But, Alpha Cassian, Luna Sutton is..."

"Did I stutter? One more word and you are fired!"

With that, he ended the call.

Elsie stared at her screen, torn and shaking. Then, a fierce resolve hardened her face. She didn't call Cassian again. Instead, she dialed the healer, Christopher Murray.

"Hello? Luna Sutton is bleeding out in the basement studio! We need you here right now!"