All Chapters of The Broken Luna's Surrogate: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

POV: VivianThe storm outside had finally calmed down. The loud thunder was gone, leaving only the steady sound of rain hitting the iron bars on my bedroom window.I stood in the middle of the dim room, my fingers resting on the five-month curve of my stomach beneath my dress. I could feel the pup slightly moving beneath my palm, and for a moment, I let myself focus on that instead of everything happening around me. Five months. Two more cycles, then the extraction. After that, I would collect my money and leave for the wilderness.I had come to this territory as a nobody, a Beta's daughter who had agreed to become a surrogate because her mother needed help and her brother needed a future. I had sold my body to save my family, and the plan had been simple. Carry the heir, give birth, collect my payment, and leave without looking back.But as I stared at the closed bedroom door, I knew things were no longer that simple.The contract meant nothing to me now. Whatever boundaries G

POV: Vivian"The wood pile is empty, Vivian."Brant walked into the kitchen, his heavy iron boots leaving dirty snow on the floor. He didn't look at me. His eyes went straight to the fireplace, where the last log was almost gone, leaving only white ash behind. The cabin had been getting colder over the past four days, and now I could see my breath whenever I spoke."They skipped the noon delivery again?" I asked, pulling my wool shawl tighter around myself. My fingers were so cold that even holding the fabric was uncomfortable."They didn't just skip it," Brant replied, his face hardening. "The timber drivers from the high keep have cleared out the eastern shed. I also caught one of the southern clan scouts watching the perimeter an hour ago. Cynthia isn't just cutting off our food, Vivian. They're trying to leave us with almost nothing to feed."They wanted me dead without having to touch me themselves. She knew her Alpha was spending more time here. My father's image flashed before

POV: GideonI kicked the kitchen doors so hard that the latch broke, sending the doors banging open. Splinters flew across the stone floor, and everyone inside turned to stare at me.The kitchen maids screamed and dropped the silver pans they were holding. A few of them hurried toward the walls, looking at me as if they had just seen a ghost. The smell of roasted pheasant and sweet plum preserve filled the kitchen, but all I could think about was my surrogate sitting in that cold cottage with nothing decent to eat. My stomach twisted with anger. These people had enough food to feed the entire keep, yet my intended pregnant mate was left struggling with hard rye bread. Even i haven't made that clear yet.‘They eat well while she starves,’ my wolf growled inside my head. ‘They drink sweet wine while she struggles to eat trash. We need to tear this place apart.’"Alpha!" Kenneth, the head cook, dropped to his knees. His fingers twisted his white apron as he struggled to speak. "We.

POV: VivianMy hands were shaking as I tried to pin my hair back into its usual tight knot. The strands wouldn't stay in place. Every time I lifted my arms, the split seam of my dress pulled against my ribs, reminding me that my body was getting bigger and my clothes could barely contain it anymore.Just stand straight, I told myself, staring into the small, cracked mirror above the washbasin. They are just old women with silver rings. They don't own your mind.But the human part of me, the part that still remembered the nasty whispers of the border pack wives when my father first moved Lori into our kitchen, was already feeling sick.The iron safety bar on the cottage door didn't slam this time. It lifted with a slow, deliberate click. Like the person was here on a mission."In here, ladies," Cynthia's high, breathless voice drifted through the short hallway, dripping with that fake sweetness that always made my throat tighten. "Mind the slush on the floor. My husband has been..

POV: VivianThe water in the wooden washbasin was freezing. A small layer of ice covered the surface, cracking as soon as I touched it.I stood in the middle of the dark bedroom, holding my wool shawl tightly around my neck as I stared at the water. The fire in the kitchen had gone out hours ago, and the last of the embers had turned to black ash. Without more firewood from the keep, the cottage was just as cold as the mountains outside. My breath came out in white clouds, and I couldn't stop shivering.‘Don't skip it,’ I told myself, clenching my teeth. ‘If you don't clean yourself properly, the fever might return, and the healers will use it as another excuse to call the container defective.’I unbuttoned the top three buttons of my gray dress and pulled the torn fabric away from my neck. The cold air touched my skin, making me shiver even more. I dipped the clean linen rag into the water, but my fingers went numb almost immediately.The moment I pressed the wet cloth against m