Semua Bab Luna To Alpha Ace: Bab 1 - Bab 9

Whack!!! The sting came before the sound—a sharp, burning sensation across my cheek that made my ears ring. In that fragmented second, I couldn't process what had happened. My body knew before my mind did, and I stumbled backward until my spine hit the wall of our immaculate kitchen. James stood before me, his hand still suspended in the air. His eyes, those hazel eyes I'd fallen in love with, widened in horror at what he'd just done. We both froze in the awful silence that followed. "Lily..." My name came out of his mouth like a plea. My hand found my cheek, fingers trembling against the heated skin. Two months pregnant. After four years of trying. After twenty failed IVF treatments. After countless nights, I cried myself to sleep. After depression so deep I'd nearly drowned in it. And he had just hit me. "I didn't mean…" James stepped toward me, his voice breaking. "Baby, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me." I couldn't speak.

The sterile smell of hospital disinfectant filled my nostrils as I blinked awake. For one terrifying moment, I thought I was back in the fertility clinic, about to hear that another treatment had failed. "She's awake," someone said, and then James's face swam into view above me. "Lily," he breathed, relief washing over his features. "Thank God." "The baby?" My voice cracked with fear. A doctor stepped into my line of sight. "Your baby is fine, Mrs. Collins.” My body sagged with relief. "What happened?" "Severe dehydration," the doctor explained. Combined with slightly low blood pressure. Not uncommon during the first trimester, but something we need to manage carefully." James's hand tightened around mine. "You scared me to death. Mrs. Peterson found you passed out on the kitchen floor when she came to clean." I tried to piece together my last memories. The text from James. The dizziness. The fall. "I need you to take it easier,"

The journal became my sanctuary over the following weeks. While James worked in his home office, I poured my fears, suspicions, and memories onto its pages, trying to make sense of the fragments. *April 17: James brought home roses again today. Said they reminded him of me, beautiful but delicate. The way he said "delicate" made my skin crawl. Like I'm something that might break if handled too roughly. Or something that already has.* *April 20: Started going through old emails about our fertility journey. Found messages about the Chicago clinic, but nothing alarming. James caught me and got upset. Said it wasn't "healthy" to dwell on the past. Suggested we delete all the old treatment emails since they're "triggers." I pretended to agree but saved them to a separate account first.* *April 22: Morning sickness is finally easing. Eight weeks pregnant today. Baby is the size of a raspberry, according to my app. James wants to start buying nursery furniture already. W

The restless energy had been building for weeks now, clawing at Ace's insides like a caged wolf desperate for freedom. He stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse office, watching the city sprawl beneath him as dusk painted the sky in shades of amber and crimson. His reflection stared back dark hair slightly disheveled from running his hands through it, sharp jawline tight with tension, and eyes that glowed with an inner fire that had nothing to do with the setting sun. *She's close.* The thought had been a constant whisper in his mind for the past month, growing stronger with each passing day. His wolf paced restlessly beneath his skin, whining and pushing against the careful control Ace had spent thirty-two years perfecting. After decades of searching, of disappointment, of wondering if the Moon Goddess had forgotten to create his other half, the pull was finally here. "Alpha?" Marcus, his Beta, stepped into the office without knocking—a privilege ea

I can't sleep. It's 2 AM, and I'm lying in bed listening to James breathe beside me, my mind spinning with questions I'm afraid to ask. The documents I found keep flashing through my memory like a slideshow of secrets. Fifty thousand dollars. New Life Fertility Clinic. Chicago. What was he buying? At 10 weeks pregnant, insomnia is supposed to be normal. The books say it's hormones, anxiety about becoming a mother, and the body's way of preparing for all those sleepless nights ahead. But this isn't pregnancy insomnia. This is the kind of sleeplessness that comes from living with secrets. I slip out of bed as quietly as possible and pad to the kitchen for some water. The baby is still too small for me to feel movement, but I find myself rubbing my barely-there bump anyway, a gesture that's becoming automatic. "It's okay, sweetheart," I whisper. "Mommy's just thinking." But it's not okay. Nothing about this is OK. I'm standing at the sink, staring at our dark backyard, whe