Chapter 2

Elena POV 

I woke up to the rattling sound of the chain on the floor.

Staring outside the window, the Crescent Blood kingdom looked like something from a dream, but living inside it felt like being buried alive.

Every wall glittered with gold, the ceilings so high I had to tilt my head back until it hurt. Crystal chandeliers hung like cages of light, and the floors were polished so clean that my reflection followed me wherever I went. People would think I was lucky to live in such beauty, but I knew the truth, this wasn’t a palace. It was a prison.

I was not here as a guest, not as a queen, and definitely not as a woman with a choice. I was here because of the contract, because the Crescent Blood Pack had paid for me like livestock. The pack that raised me, that claimed to care for me, had sold me to these alphas without hesitation.

The first night I was brought here, I slept in a bed larger than any house I had ever lived in. But I didn’t feel comfort. I felt small. Lost. Afraid. The sheets smelled faintly of smoke and cedar, scents that clung to the quadruplet alphas, reminding me that everything here belonged to them. Even me.

Days passed slowly. I was never allowed to leave the palace grounds. Guards watched me from a distance, their eyes hard, as if I might run at any second. The palace servants treated me with stiff politeness, their smiles too thin, their bows too sharp. They looked at me not with respect but with pity. Or worse, with disgust.

Whispers followed me wherever I went.

“She doesn’t even have a wolf.”

“How can a human carry alpha blood?”

“The King quadruplets deserve better than this.”

“She won’t last long.”

I tried to ignore them at first, walking with my chin lifted, pretending the words couldn’t touch me. But at night, lying alone in that endless bed, the whispers echoed in my head. They wrapped around me like chains, squeezing the air from my chest until I cried myself to sleep.

The alphas didn’t help.

They barely looked at me, and when they did, it was with the same coldness I had seen in their eyes the day I arrived.

Damien, the eldest, always spoke like he was delivering a command. Aiden sneered at me whenever I opened my mouth. Kael barely spoke at all, his silence sharper than any insult. And Lucian, he stared like I was an insect under glass, something strange he didn’t trust.

I told myself I didn’t care what they thought. I told myself all I had to do was survive this contract, deliver their heirs, and then I would be free. But the truth? Their rejection cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

One evening, as the sun melted into the horizon, I walked through one of the palace’s endless hallways. My slippers brushed softly against the marble floor. The walls were lined with portraits of former kings, all stern men with sharp eyes. Every face seemed to look down on me, judging me, reminding me that I would never belong here.

I passed two servants dusting vases. They didn’t notice I was close until I caught their whispers.

“She’s too weak,” one said, shaking her head.

“A human carrying quadruplet heirs? Her body will break before she reaches the seventh month,” the other replied.

“Maybe that’s the plan. If she dies, they can choose someone stronger.”

I froze, my heart thudding painfully against my ribs. My breath caught in my throat, but I forced myself to keep walking, pretending I hadn’t heard. The words dug into me like claws, leaving me raw and bleeding inside.

That night, I tried to eat dinner in the grand hall. The table stretched longer than any field back home, covered in silver dishes and golden goblets. The alphas sat at the far end, speaking quietly among themselves, not sparing me a glance. I sat alone, food untouched, my stomach twisting too tightly to eat.

The silence pressed down on me until I couldn’t take it anymore. My fork clattered against the plate as I pushed back from the table and stood. Four pairs of eyes lifted at once, sharp and questioning.

“May I be excused?” My voice trembled despite my effort to keep it steady.

“You don’t need our permission,” Damien said coolly, returning to his wine. “You’re not our mate.”

The words sliced clean through me. I left the hall quickly, blinking back tears, my footsteps echoing like hollow drums through the palace corridors.

Later that night, I wandered into one of the side gardens. Moonlight washed over the marble statues and the still fountain at the center. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering though the air was warm. I missed my old life, the small house, the laughter of children in the pack, the smell of bread baking in the Luna’s kitchen. I had never been truly happy, but at least I had belonged somewhere. Here, I was a stranger. A tool.

I sat by the fountain until the shadows deepened. The sound of footsteps made me flinch. I turned my head and saw two figures standing at the archway, unaware I was near. My breath caught as I recognized Damien and Aiden. Their voices carried clearly through the still night.

“She won’t survive it,” Aiden muttered. “A human body carrying our heirs? She’ll die before the first cry.”

Damien didn’t argue. His silence was worse than any agreement. Finally, he said, “Then let her die. The contract binds her womb, not her life. If she fails, we’ll find another.”

My heart lurched violently. The edges of my vision blurred. Their words echoed in my skull, pounding with each beat of my heart.

Then let her die.

The ground tilted beneath me. I pressed a hand over my stomach, though there was no life stirring there yet, only a cruel magic that had been forced into me. Tears pricked my eyes, hot and burning, but I couldn’t move.

They were planning for my death. My survival didn’t matter to them at all.

I stumbled back, one hand against the cold stone wall, careful not to make a sound. My pulse roared in my ears as I crept away from the garden.

Back in my chamber, I shut the door and leaned against it, my whole body shaking. My reflection in the tall mirror showed a pale, frightened girl with wide eyes and trembling lips. I didn’t recognize her.

For the first time since coming here, I whispered the truth aloud, voice breaking.

“I won’t survive this.”

The words hung heavy in the air.

But somewhere deep inside me, past the fear and despair, something stirred. Small. Quiet. But alive.

I couldn’t name it yet.

But it whispered back.

Not if you fight.