#Chapter 1 the Betray
Hastily, I made my way down the corridor, burdened by the weight of my wedding dress's cumbersome layers. Annoyance clung to me like a thick fog, emanating from every pore. Who in their right mind disappears just before their own wedding rehearsal? Especially when the occasion had attracted so many guests. It wasn't every day that the daughter of the Alpha from the Red Moon pack tied the knot with the son of the Alpha from the Blue Moon pack. Finally, I arrived at Milo's hotel room, and to my sensitive ears, a familiar female voice floated through the air. "Oh honey, you're amazing. I can't wait to carry your cubs!" Confusion clouded my vision as I blinked hard. Had I stumbled upon the wrong room? I hiked up my dress, retrieving my phone from the silk garter on my thigh. A quick glance at the email detailing the hotel room assignments confirmed that I was indeed at the right place. The gold plate on the door, engraved with bold black numbers reading 505, affirmed it further. This was Milo's room. I slipped my phone back into its place and pushed the handle down, expecting resistance, but to my surprise, the door swung open effortlessly, no key card required. Tentatively, I peered inside, and there, on the sofa, was my fiancé, passionately entangled with another woman. Her hair cascaded in long waves the color of sunlight, her skin unblemished and velvety, like a caramel delicacy. Milo was devouring her. My jaw dropped in disbelief. He was cheating on me, a mere day before our wedding. Betrayal turned my blood icy, coursing from my head to the soles of my feet. The walls that contained my emotions crumbled, and anger surged through my veins, heating me from within. With clenched fists and a resolute jaw, I straightened my spine, doing my utmost to restrain my fury. After all, I was a Luna. Milo and I were products of a family union, what some called an arranged marriage. We had grown up together, and from an early age, I knew that I would be his wife. As the daughter of an Alpha, my marriage served as a means to forge a stronger pack.Growing up as an aristocrat, my education was privileged but lacking in joy and companionship. Despite that, I excelled as a Luna, surpassing many of my male counterparts in academics, class, and combat. Yet, Milo, the man who should have respected me for it, seemed to disregard my achievements entirely. The choice of my groom was not mine, but I was determined to have the perfect wedding, and Milo's antics with another woman threatened to ruin it all. Pouring over every detail, I made sure everything was flawless. And now he was jeopardizing it with his vanishing act. I couldn't make a scene, not with so many guests attending the wedding rehearsal in the grand hall. So, without being noticed, I quietly closed the door behind me. Glancing down the corridor, I saw no one nearby. If I didn't arrive with Milo soon, people would start asking questions. Nervously, I fidgeted with the ruffle on my dress, desperately trying to figure out what to do next. Just then, the door swung open. I dropped the ruffle and crossed my arms beneath my chest, leaning into my right hip. To my astonishment, my fiancé stood before me, shirtless, covered in bruises, bite marks, and scratches. His black hair cascaded around his shoulders, untamed and disheveled. "Don't you think you owe me an explanation?" I asked, my voice icy and composed, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. I gestured towards a fresh bite mark on his shoulder. "But let's be honest, there's no justifying that." Milo's black eyes glared at me with disgust, his impatience evident in his tone. "I'm tired of your coldness towards me. We've known each other since childhood. I thought by now, with our wedding approaching, you would show some affection towards me. But look at you. Even in this moment," he ran a hand over the marks on his body, "you remain cold and emotionless. It sickens me." "You expect me to care about you? To desire you when I never had a say in the matter?" I ran my fingers through my silver hair, elegantly pinned up in curls."How can I possibly care for you when you've been unfaithful the day before our wedding?" I seethed, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. Milo's response was laced with arrogance as he sneered, "Wedding? There won't be a wedding. I refuse to marry you. Margaret is the one I truly love, not you." His words struck me like a physical blow, fueling the fire within me. Without thinking, I let my hand fly across his face with a resounding slap. "You bastard!" I spat, my teeth grinding together in frustration. "You can't do this to me. It will bring shame upon me and our packs. This wedding is about uniting our forces, not about love." His eyes widened in astonishment at my outburst. Gathering what little dignity I had left, I lifted my heavy skirt and turned to leave, my heart heavy with betrayal. The wedding, once a symbol of strength and unity, now threatened to become a scandal that would ripple through noble society. I fought back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes, determined to maintain my composure. I walked past the grand hall, past the prying eyes and whispers of the guests, until I finally reached the solitude of my hotel room. Inside, I reached for the bottle of whiskey provided by the hotel, a desperate attempt to numb the pain. I took a long swig, feeling the burn travel down my throat and settle in my stomach. I was not accustomed to drinking, but tonight called for desperate measures. How could I face my father, the Alpha, with this devastating news? Lying on the bed, surrounded by layers of ruffled fabric, I watched the room spin slowly around me. Suddenly, my leg began to vibrate, jolting me out of my stupor. It took me a moment to realize it was my phone, tucked discreetly in my garter. I blinked at the bright screen, struggling to focus on the text message that had appeared. It was from my only friend, Calista. I sat up, trying to steady myself, and read her message with bleary eyes. Calista: Where are you? Everyone is searching for you. I fumbled with my thumbs, attempting to type a coherent response. Me: I'm drunk in my room. Calista: Without me? Not cool. Why are you drunk? Me: Milo called off the wedding. Calista: What? Why? Me: He claims I am cold and heartless. Calista: What an absolute jerk. I never liked him anyway. You're better off without him. Hang on, I need to send a quick message to someone else. I let the phone slip from my grasp, my gaze drifting towards the reflection in the room's wall mirror. Half of my carefully styled curls had fallen loose, framing my face. The silver strands intertwined with the blue of my eyes, creating a captivating glow that seemed to defy the pain that consumed me.I glanced at the dress, feeling its constricting grip on my body. Pushing myself to my feet, I swayed slightly, my fingers fumbling to find the stubborn zipper. With a sharp tug, it finally gave way, and the dress cascaded to the floor in a heap. Frustration mingled with a sense of liberation as I kicked it aside. "I never really liked you anyway," I muttered, casting a critical eye over my reflection. Why didn't Milo care about me? Was I not desirable enough? My body was lean, sculpted by the daily battles I fought against the males in my pack. Each day, I proved my worthiness as their Luna. Running a hand over a few of my scars, I couldn't help but compare myself to the smooth, unmarked woman who had been with Milo. My phone vibrated and illuminated, breaking through my thoughts. A message from Calista appeared on the screen. Calista: I've called a Call Boy for you. He's got an eight-pack and skin the color of wheat. He can give you everything you want! He's here in the hotel, room number 705. Go have some fun. Unlike other nobles, Calista was a deviant, and that's why I loved her. Normally, I would have ignored such a message, but after what Milo had said earlier, I found myself picking up the phone and replying. Me: Okay. Dressed in the seductive attire Calista had insisted I bring, I made my way towards room 705. Bumping into walls and stumbling over furniture, I eventually reached the door. It was partially ajar, piquing my curiosity. I pushed it open further and peeked inside, causing the wooden door to emit an ominous creak. Moments later, a half-naked man, wrapped in nothing but a towel, appeared before me. Just as Calista had described, he was undeniably handsome. Towering over me, his muscular frame exuded power. Desire surged through my body, overpowering any lingering thoughts of Milo. Wow. He was far sexier than I had imagined. A smile played at the corners of my lips as I tiptoed my fingers up his chiseled chest, twining them in his shaggy golden hair. His eyes, as golden as the rest of him, held a warmth that I longed to taste, like honey on my tongue. Unable to resist the growing desire within me, I pushed him further into the room. "Time to do your job, boy," I murmured, my voice dripping with anticipation. "Make it fun."
#Chapter 2 A call boy
"Hold on there. Who are you?" The Call Boy's grip tightened, and his honey-colored eyes slowly traced a seductive path down my body, lingering on my breasts and hips. A whistle pierced the air, causing me to shiver involuntarily. "Well, well, aren't you something to behold. But I believe you've stumbled into the wrong room," he remarked smoothly. Instinctively, I twisted against his hold, sidestepped him, and effortlessly pushed him back, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor. He looked up at me, a charming smile breaking across his face, making him appear youthful and mischievous. Gasping, I quickly covered my mouth. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that," I slurred, my words muddled by the effects of alcohol. Blinking, I realized just how intoxicated I was. I couldn't help but giggle to myself, followed by an unladylike snort. Shaking my head, the pins that had been holding my hair in place fell free, allowing my tresses to cascade down my back. The Call Boy on the floor propped himself up on one elbow. "That is the sexiest thing I've ever heard and seen," he murmured, reaching out a large hand towards my thigh, gently caressing it. Sexy? Milo had never called me sexy, nor had he ever made any advances towards me. Every time I hinted at wanting to take our relationship to a more intimate level, he would reject me. A girl can only handle so much rejection before she starts questioning her own worth. The Call Boy's rough hand grazed the edge of my short, blue sequined dress from Calista. The touch sent a jolt through my heart, making my pulse race. I ran a hand through my hair, my lips moistening with anticipation. My inner wolf was practically clawing beneath my skin, urging me to act, to embrace every sensation. With a swift motion, I used my bare foot to forcefully push the Call Boy to the floor. Surprisingly, he didn't resist, submitting to my command.He reclined, placing his hand behind his head, his eyes fixed on me. I found myself drawn to his gaze, a magnetic pull that stirred something deep within me. Kneeling before him, I straddled his waist, the fabric of my dress shifting with each movement. "I don't know who you are," I whispered, my voice barely audible, "but I'm willing to help in any way I can." The Call Boy's smile widened, illuminating his entire face. It sent shivers down my spine, melting me in ways I hadn't anticipated. Intrigued by his lips, I reached out and lightly brushed them with my fingertips, curiosity guiding my actions. A fire ignited in his eyes, mirroring the flames within me. Leaning down, I pressed a tender kiss against his chest, only to be met with a landscape of scars resembling fang marks and slashes. Questions swirled within me, eager to unravel the mysteries behind those wounds. Without warning, he discarded his towel, his hands finding their place on my hips, igniting a fierce desire that consumed both of us. Thoughts dissolved into oblivion, leaving only the intoxicating heat of passion in its wake. I moved my hips against his, seeking a deeper connection. As if sensing my need, he sat up, unzipping my dress and peeling it away from my body. My breasts were freed, and his lips descended upon them, leaving trails of gentle kisses in their wake. With a graceful motion, he rolled me onto my back, removing my panties with care. His gaze lingered on me, hungry and intense. Covering my body with his, he took his time, savoring every moment. His lips found mine, but I turned my head, inviting him to explore other parts of me. He obliged, his kisses trailing down my neck, growing lower and lower. Pleasure coursed through my veins, igniting a fire that burned with an intensity I could no longer contain. My body arched towards him, aching for more. With a deliberate slowness, he entered me, and a moan escaped my lips, swallowed by the air around us. The rhythm was initially languid, teasing, but desire surged within us, demanding more. My grip tightened on his broad shoulders as he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the wall, driving deeper into my core. Nails dug into his skin, anchoring him to me, as our bodies moved in perfect harmony. Together, we soared to the pinnacle of pleasure, surrendering to the waves of ecstasy and release. Breathless and spent, I leaned against him, my energy drained. He carried me to a bed adorned with golden silks, a sanctuary where we could find solace in each other's arms.He truly embodied the essence of a celestial being, radiating an otherworldly glow as he lounged beside me. With a mischievous grin spreading across his face, he inquired, "Did our encounter live up to your expectations?" A wave of contentment washed over me, threatening to lull me into a peaceful slumber. However, a faint voice whispered in the depths of my consciousness, interrupting the tranquility. "What is your name?" it gently inquired. A playful smile danced upon my lips as I responded, "Quinn." As the morning sunlight cascaded upon my skin, I luxuriated in the warmth of the sheets. Every fiber of my being urged me to remain still, but I fought through the haze clouding my mind. Confusion gripped me as I surveyed my surroundings, realizing I was inexplicably unclothed. Rubbing my eyes, I attempted to clear the fog obscuring my thoughts. Where am I? And why am I in this state of undress? Carefully, I sat up, allowing the room to come into focus. The sight of the magnificent figure beside me triggered a rush of memories from the previous night. A mixture of excitement and apprehension coursed through me as I recalled our shared moments. Desperate to confirm the reality of our encounter, I yearned to reach out and touch him. Yet, the weight of the impending day crashed upon me like a tidal wave. Today was meant to be my wedding day, a fact I had withheld from my parents. I silently hoped that Milo had taken it upon himself to inform everyone, sparing me the burden. Where is my phone? Panic seized me at the thought of my family and Milo's frantic messages. How could I have been so reckless? Oh, that's right—I hadn't been thinking at all. Slipping out of bed with utmost caution, I tiptoed towards the bathroom, seeking solace in its confines. I cleansed myself, dressed, and emerged with a sigh of relief. It had indeed been a night to remember. Placing a generous sum of money and a note on the small table by the exit, I left a simple message: "Thank you for the unforgettable experience. Keep the tip." Mindful of avoiding any prying eyes, I stealthily made my way back to my room. To my surprise, I found Calista sprawled across the bed, engrossed in a magazine. Her attire consisted of tight jeans and a crop top, while her once blue hair now blazed with a fiery red hue. "So, how was the gentleman I arranged for you?" she inquired, a mischievous glint in her eye. An unwelcome blush crept up my cheeks as I frantically searched for my phone. The screen displayed an overwhelming number of messages from both my family and Milo's. Panic settled in. Hastily retreating to the bathroom, I shed my clothes and sought refuge under the soothing spray of the shower, hoping to evade any discussion about my regrettable choices. As if on cue, the lid of the toilet seat clattered shut, and Calista's voice rang out, breaking through the solitude.My sorry excuse for a fiancé had the audacity to announce at the wedding breakfast this morning that he was calling off our wedding. Can you believe it? He's supposedly head over heels for some Omega named Margaret. As if he actually thinks he can just call off our wedding without any consequences. I peeked out from behind the shower curtain, my heart sinking at the thought of facing the aftermath of this disaster. "Well, at least he took care of the announcement for me. Now I won't have to face the wrath of my father," I muttered. Calista, my best friend and confidante, looked at me with concern etched on her heart-shaped face. "So, how was the male escort I hired for you? I made sure to choose someone completely different from Milo – muscular and strong, not tall and skinny." The image of the escort's chiseled physique flashed in my mind, and I couldn't help but sigh. He was undeniably gorgeous. Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside our hotel room, catching our attention. Calista popped up and went to investigate, leaving me standing there with nothing but a towel wrapped around me. I glanced down the hallway, curious about what was happening. The hotel manager rushed past us, looking disoriented and confused. Leaning against the door frame, Calista whispered, "I wonder if it's Alpha Vincent. I heard he's been staying here." "Really? I thought he was out there, fighting against the vampires trying to take over the outer rim of King Pack. He's rarely seen in public, except when he's battling alongside his wolves. They say he's wild, fearsome, and absolutely terrifying." "Or maybe, just maybe, your father has your back this time, and he's giving Milo a good beating for calling off the wedding," Calista suggested with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. I rolled my eyes at her wishful thinking. "Yeah, right. As if my father would ever stoop to that level." Calista leaned closer, a secretive smile on her lips. "I actually met this incredibly sexy guy in the lobby yesterday. He accidentally let it slip that he's Vincent's beta and best friend. Rumor has it that the Alpha King is growing old and weak, and Vincent is coming back to claim the throne." Closing the door behind her, Calista left me to change into fresh clothes. As I rummaged through my belongings, I knew I needed to check my phone for any messages or texts. I had a feeling I was in deep trouble. Calista held up her phone, showing me a blurry photo of a man's side profile. "Look at this. I took this picture of a large man earlier. It's a bit blurry, but something about him seems familiar. Do you recognize him?" I stared at the photo, a nagging sense of déjà vu creeping into my mind. But in that moment, with the weight of my family's expectations and the chaos surrounding me, I couldn't find the energy to care about the mysterious man in the picture.
#Chapter 3 I will find that girl
Dressed in sleek black slacks and a delicate pale blue blouse, I settled down to peruse my collection of text messages. The screen was filled with words of shame, all directed at me, as if I were the one responsible for bringing disgrace upon the esteemed Red Moon pack. Anger coiled within my chest, a relentless serpent. It was not I who called off the wedding; it was Milo. I had been prepared, ready to fulfill the binding contract my father had arranged with Milo's pack. If there was anyone deserving of shame, it was Milo himself. He could have easily kept Margaret as his clandestine lover, as many alphas did, but instead, he chose love over the weighty obligations to his pack. I couldn't fathom such a decision. Never had there been a moment when any male tempted me to turn away from my sacred duty as a Luna. After enduring the twentieth text from my father, I grew weary and empty, the numbness settling in. Slipping on oversized sunglasses and a floppy-brimmed hat, I bid Calista farewell. As I checked out at the front desk, my gaze remained lowered, avoiding any potential encounters. The grand reception hall, which I had meticulously adorned with silk, lace, and twinkling lights just yesterday, slowly emptied, one Tulip floral arrangement at a time. My heart ached, witnessing the dismantling of the laborious design, and I pressed my lips together, suppressing a sigh. I scanned the surroundings, praying for an empty lobby, yet to my astonishment, it was as desolate and cold as the void within my chest. Returning home, I found my parents and younger brother, Juan, awaiting me in the living room. I hurried past them, making a beeline for my room, but my father's sturdy grip caught hold of my arm, halting my escape. My bags slipped from my grasp, crashing onto the floor. "Don't you dare run past me, young lady. It is utterly unacceptable. You are a Luna, and you have some explaining to do," my father admonished, his voice laced with sternness. "What is there to explain? Milo called off the wedding," I retorted, tugging my arm free. Red marks began to form where his fingers had clutched tightly. I concealed the pain beneath a mask of indifference, refusing to allow him to witness how deeply his words sliced through my fragile facade. "You vanished before the wedding rehearsal. People were starting to ask questions."The behavior you're exhibiting is not only detrimental to our family's reputation but also to your brother. As an Alpha, it is my duty to maintain control over our family." I respond in a calm and composed manner, "Father, did you not notice that Milo didn't attend the rehearsal? I went to find him. How does that reflect poorly on Juan or yourself? When I discovered Milo with another woman, he called off the wedding. So, I retreated to my room. What other course of action did I have?" "You should have come to me. I shouldn't have found out about this on the day of the wedding, during breakfast, just like everyone else. As if I were some insignificant Omega." "Father, Milo doesn't want to marry me. Please, let it go. We can find another pack to form an alliance with." My father's face contorts with disgust, causing me to take a step back. "Don't speak to me about forming a different alliance. You have no idea what this alliance means for our pack. No lowly Omega will break this alliance." My eyes narrow as I confront him, "Did you already know about Milo and Margaret's affair?" He turns his back to me, intertwining his hands behind him. "Yes, I did." "You did." "Some Alphas have one or two lovers among the nobles. It's a common occurrence. If you didn't want to share him, you should have kept a closer watch on him." I clench my teeth, struggling to maintain my composure. "I don't care if he has a mistress. I understand my duty to our pack. But Milo loves her. He doesn't want me, not as a lover or a Luna. There's nothing I can do." "We can find another alliance," my mother interjects from across the room, pushing herself up from the couch to stand beside my father. "No, we can't. She must marry Milo," he declares, walking past my mother. "I've already spoken to his father." My mother pales and silently sits back down on the couch. My brother's face contorts with confusion upon hearing his father's confession. "You will marry Milo. The support of the Blue Moon pack is crucial for Juan to maintain his position as the new Alpha," my father asserts, leaving no room for negotiation. My father turned and glared at me. My blue eyes dig into his matching ones. “No.” A screaming pain rips through my mind, and I can’t breathe. I staggered back, grabbing my head. I knew it was my father’s Alpha control. I tried to fight him, but it only brought more pain. It was no use. I couldn’t push his hold over me away. He stood over me and growled low. “You will marry Milo whether he loves someone else or not. The wedding is already rescheduled for two weeks from now. So you will be there at the altar looking poised and perfect.” My mother was at my father’s side. She rested a hand on his forearm but didn't say a word. My father’s alpha control is released. And I pulled in a breath. That is the first time he used his power against me, and my heart broke. He didn’t care that Milo didn’t want me as a lover or a Luna. I didn’t care about being Milo’s lover. But I was one of the strongest Lunas among the nobles. I had done everything to ensure my pack's well-being, and my parents not understanding that, disappointed me in a way I could not recover from. I picked up my bags and walked to my room. I could not respect those who did not see my value. I was done listening to my family. *** Third-person In the presidential suite on the hotel's top floor, the hotel manager wiped the cold sweat from his brow while apologizing to the man sitting on the couch before him. The manager's voice trembled as he spoke, wary of the man's growing frustration. The room was tense with an unspoken threat, and the manager feared the consequences if he couldn't provide the answers the man sought. "I apologize for the inconvenience, sir," the manager stammered. "Quinn is a guest who arrived yesterday afternoon. She checked in alone and requested the presidential suite." The man's piercing blue eyes narrowed, a storm brewing within them. The manager could feel the weight of his gaze, as if it could strip him bare of any lies or half-truths. He swallowed hard, desperately trying to recall any additional details. "She claimed she had a reservation under her name," the manager continued, his voice shaky. "But I assure you, sir, we have strict protocols in place to prevent such mistakes." The man's hand tightened around the note, crumpling it slightly. His frustration seemed to surge through his veins, radiating off him like a palpable force. "I want to know everything about this Quinn," he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. "Where is she now?" The manager hesitated, unsure whether he should reveal the young woman's current whereabouts. But faced with the man's unwavering gaze, he knew there was no other choice. "The woman was here for her wedding," the manager informed, his voice tinged with a hint of sympathy. "Wedding?" The handsome man's eyes widened in surprise and concern. "Yes, sir," the manager confirmed, his tone solemn. "She hails from the Red Moon pack and was set to marry into the Blue Moon pack." The handsome man's brows furrowed in confusion. "Supposed to marry? What do you mean? Did something happen?" The manager cleared his throat, adjusting his bowtie nervously. Taking a step closer, he leaned in to share the news. "The wedding was unexpectedly canceled this morning, but it was rescheduled a few hours later. It will now take place two weeks from now." Understanding dawned on the handsome man's face as he processed the information. "I see. Thank you. You may go now." As the manager left, a tall, lean figure entered the room. His hair, as dark as the night sky, was styled in a warrior's braid down the center, while the sides were shaved close to the skin. Leaning against the wall, he casually bit into an apple, his presence exuding a sense of confidence. "So, what's the plan now, Alex?" the man asked, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. "Are you already seeking revenge against the Red Moon pack? We've only just returned home, and I was hoping for a bit of fun before another war erupted." Taking another bite of the apple, he continued nonchalantly. "For a beta, Archer, you sure do complain a lot," Vincent replied, pushing himself up from his seat. He read the note in his hands for what felt like the hundredth time, the scent of the woman lingering on the paper. His body tensed, his muscles coiling tightly. All he could think about was last night, the memory of the woman who had broken into his room. She had been stunning, her dress hugging her curves in all the right places, her silver hair cascading down her back. His wolf instincts stirred within him, urging him to shift. Vincent forcefully pushed down the primal urges, running a hand wearily across his face. The Alpha of the Red Moon pack had conspired with Scarlet, the king's father's mistress, to manipulate Vincent's father, King Alpha, into sending him to fight against the vampires. They had wanted him dead, so that his half-brother, Lucas, could ascend to the throne. While Vincent had been away, his mother, Queen Luna, had passed away, and he hadn't even been given the chance to say goodbye. Alex caught a whiff of the note one final time, realizing that any hope of seeing that captivating woman again had crumbled along with the piece of paper. He tossed it aside, watching it flutter to the floor. Quinn was a Luna of the Red Moon pack.
#Chapter 4 Pregnant for a call boy
In the days leading up to my wedding, I found myself tangled in the affairs of the pack or immersed in intense combat training sessions with Calista. It was my way of venting the frustration that brewed within me, a result of being forced into a marriage with a man who failed to acknowledge my Luna status. During our training, I aimed low, targeting Calista's hips and swiftly lifting her off the ground, only to bring her crashing down onto her back. But something felt off. As I circled around her, pinning her shoulders to the mat, I couldn't shake the feeling of weakness that coursed through me. Calista squirmed and managed to escape my hold. With a swift roundhouse kick, she struck my jaw square on, sending me crashing to the ground. The world flickered in and out of focus as I rubbed my throbbing jaw. "Ouch. Calista has never caught me off guard like this before," I muttered, bewildered by my own vulnerability. After all, I was faster and stronger than her. So why was I lying disoriented on the mat? I tried to recall if I had eaten breakfast, only to remember feeling sick. With much effort, I pulled myself up. Sick! It was a rarity for werewolves to fall ill. As I reflected upon the past few days, I realized that my energy levels had been steadily declining. My hands ran through my hair in frustration. What was happening to me? Calista bounded over, plopping herself down beside me. She nudged me in the shoulder. "I got you good. You didn't even try to dodge. What's up with that?" "I... I don't know. I just feel so tired. And... I think I might be sick," I admitted, my voice filled with uncertainty. Calista's gray eyes widened. "Sick? Werewolves don't get sick." She fell silent for a moment before positioning herself directly in front of me. Her hands gently grasped my shoulders, concern etched across her face. "Come on, Calista, I'm not about to keel over. I'm just... off. It's probably because of the wedding," I reassured her, trying to convince myself as much as her. "Don't panic, but... did you take any precautions with the call boy?" Calista asked cautiously. "Of course," I replied, my voice laced with uncertainty. "Well, maybe. I was drunk." The memories of that night came rushing back, and I buried my face in my hands. "No. No, I didn't. What's wrong with me? I should know better than that. Oh, God. Do you think I could be pregnant?" Fear gripped me tightly, squeezing the air out of my lungs. Calista rubbed my back and averted her gaze, a mixture of concern and sympathy evident on her face.In the realm of nobility, the pursuit of pure bloodlines was an unwavering obsession. The existence of illegitimate children was simply not tolerated, and unwed pregnancies were deemed a shameful stain on one's reputation. Only those born to wedded couples, who had undergone the sacred marking ceremony, were considered blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. The weight of these societal expectations bore down heavily upon me, threatening to suffocate my very spirit. My heart raced, and beneath my skin, my wolf stirred restlessly. She longed to break free, to run wild and unencumbered. But I couldn't succumb to panic. I had to remain composed. After all, I was a Luna. Though I was still ignorant of so much, there was no reason for me to allow fear to consume me entirely. Calista rose from her seat, her determination palpable. She took hold of my hand, her touch both reassuring and urgent. "Come on," she urged, her voice laced with urgency. "We must see a doctor." "How?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "My father watches me like a hawk, convinced that I will dishonor him at any given moment." Undeterred, Calista guided me towards the main house of the villa, her mind quickly formulating a plan. "It's the day before the wedding," she mused aloud. "I'll tell him we're going to get our nails done. A Luna must look flawless on her wedding day, don't you think?" *** To avoid arousing suspicion, I dressed in a loose-fitting gown, concealing my figure. I pulled my distinctive hair into an elegant bun and topped it off with a large hat. Calista mirrored my actions, ensuring that we would be unrecognizable. As a final touch, she slipped a pair of glasses onto my face. With our disguises in place, we made our way towards the front door. My father sat in the living room, engrossed in his newspaper. I held my breath as we passed him, expecting him to question our sudden departure. But to my surprise, he barely glanced up, his attention consumed by the words on the page. A wave of relief washed over me as we slipped out of the house, undetected. To err on the side of caution, Calista and I ventured into the territory of the neighboring Half Moon pack, located to the east. Disguising our identities, we scheduled an appointment with a doctor, employing a false name to avoid any potential repercussions. Alone in the cramped examination room, I perched on the edge of the table, struggling to catch my breath. The weight of the situation bore down upon me, threatening to crush my resolve. "Congratulations," the doctor declared, a smile etched across their face. "You're pregnant." I refused to meet their gaze, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "Run another test," I demanded, my voice strained. "But we've already run two tests," the doctor protested, confusion etched in their expression. I lifted my head, my grip on the table growing even tighter. "Do it again," I insisted, my voice laced with desperation. The doctor nodded, sensing the gravity of the situation, and left the room to fulfill my request. As the door closed behind them, I couldn't help but acknowledge the harsh reality that lay before me. I couldn't bear this child. Once my father discovered my secret, I would be cast aside, forever banished from the pack that had been my home.The might of the Red Moon pack loomed over me, casting a shadow of uncertainty. If I dared to offend my father, no pack would ever accept me. Anxiety clawed at my insides as I awaited the doctor's return. This time, however, his enthusiasm had vanished, replaced instead by a solemn expression. "You are pregnant," he delivered the news, his words hanging heavily in the air. A solitary tear trickled down my cheek, and I hastily brushed it away. The doctor's next question pierced through the silence with a cruel edge. "Do you want to abort the child?" I attempted to respond, to voice my agreement, but the word caught in my throat. Deep within, I knew that terminating the pregnancy was the logical choice. It was what I should do, what I had to do. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to extinguish the life of an innocent child. "No," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I will keep the baby. Thank you." With those words, the doctor excused himself and departed from the room, leaving me to grapple with the weight of my decision. Thoughts raced through my mind, searching for a way to conceal the pregnancy until I could safely give birth and find a loving home for the child. But how could I possibly achieve such a feat? As I stepped out into the waiting room, Calista sprung up from her seat, her eyes locking onto mine. She hurried over and embraced me tightly, offering solace in her presence. "It will be okay," she reassured me. "We will figure it out." On our way back to the car, I caught a glimpse of someone lurking in the shadows, their gaze fixed upon us. A tremor of unease coursed through my veins. "Calista, look," I murmured, pointing over her shoulder. "That blonde woman. See if she follows us." Sure enough, as we pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, the woman trailed behind us. Calista swiftly maneuvered through the streets, taking sharp turns and speeding through lights. Eventually, the car with the mysterious woman vanished from sight. "Who do you think that was?" Calista inquired, her voice tinged with worry. "I don't know," I replied, my mind racing to piece together the puzzle. "But whoever she was, she knew I was at the doctor's. We need to go to the hotel. I want to talk to the Call Boy." My stomach churned, threatening to betray my anxiety. I rolled down the window, desperate for a breath of fresh air. "Why? How is he going to help? You can't marry him. You're a Red Moon Luna," Calista protested, her concern etched on her face. My head drooped, and a low growl escaped my lips. "I am well aware of that. But if I choose to keep this baby, my status as a Red Moon Luna will be in jeopardy. It won't matter who I marry. I need a plan B, and maybe he can be it." Calista gazed at me, comprehension dawning in her eyes. She knew that I spoke the truth. "There will be people we know at the hotel," she mentioned, her voice laced with caution."The wedding is tomorrow," she announced with a somber expression. "I need to talk to him," I replied firmly. "Fine. But I have a feeling it won't end well," she warned, skepticism evident in her voice. We made our way to the front desk, where Calista requested the same call boy we had encountered before. As we walked towards the designated room, doubt began to creep into my mind. Was this really a good idea? Would talking to him truly solve anything? Calista knocked loudly on the door, and it swung open to reveal a young man with golden hair. He stood at the same height as me, his upper body free of any scars, and his dark brown eyes held an air of curiosity. I was momentarily rendered speechless. Calista jabbed her finger into the man's chest. "Listen here, buddy, don't you use protection when dealing with drunk women?" I quickly intervened, removing her finger from his chest. "That's not him." "What do you mean? This is the guy. Look at those abs, his golden hair, and those nice shoulders. Just like I described," Calista argued, her frustration mounting. I positioned myself between Calista and the man. "I apologize for the confusion. Please have a good day." The man shrugged and closed the door. "If he isn't the guy, then who is?" Calista questioned, perplexed. "I don't know," I admitted, my confusion growing. As we walked towards the elevators, I rubbed my temples in an attempt to recall how I had ended up at the Call Boy's room. "I must have gone to the wrong room." "This is great. What should we do now? We can't aimlessly wander around. Someone from tomorrow's wedding might see us," Calista fretted. Frustrated, we entered the elevator, and I pressed the button for the next level. "I need to find something familiar," I muttered to myself. It wasn't until we reached the top floor of the hotel that the decor matched my fragmented memories of that night. "I remember bumping into that table. I stubbed my toe because I foolishly didn't have any shoes on," I recalled, a flicker of recognition igniting within me. Finally, we stood before a darkened door bearing the number 905, and then it hit me. "I mistook the 9 for a 7," I realized, taking a deep breath in an attempt to steady myself. With newfound determination, I knocked on the door. "Coming, just a moment!" a voice from inside called out, and the door creaked open slowly.
#Chapter 5 Who is the father
"How can I assist you?" he asked, his voice devoid of any warmth or concern. Words failed me, leaving me speechless. Calista stepped forward, pushing me aside with a determined grace. "I'm searching for my friend. He occupied this room approximately two weeks ago." With a dismissive wave of his hand, the staff member began to close the door in Calista's face. She swiftly extended her arm, halting its progress. "We need to speak with whoever resides here." His fingers brushed hers as he forcefully pushed her hand away. "I am unable to disclose personal information. You may inquire at the front desk for assistance." The door clicked shut, sealing our fate within the confines of the hotel hallway. A sense of numbness washed over me, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon my shoulders. Calista appeared as though she had been struck by a bomb, her composure shattered. "Great. Just great," she muttered, frustration lacing her words. Attempting to maintain a semblance of calm, I took a deep breath. "Calista, it'll be alright. I'll find a solution," I reassured her, though the room spun before my eyes, threatening to consume me. She enveloped me in a tight embrace, offering solace as we made our way back towards the elevator. Resting my head against her shoulder, we both sighed in unison. The consequences of a single night of recklessness loomed larger than life itself. I had shared an intimate encounter with a stranger, and now, within me, grew the seed of his child. "How can this ever be alright?" Calista's eyes widened with disbelief, mirroring the turmoil within. Unwed and pregnant, I bore the weight of disgrace that befell nobility. If word spread, my vain father would surely cast me aside to preserve his reputation. Should I become a rogue, my unborn child would face an insurmountable struggle for survival. Placing my hand gently upon my still-flat belly, I made a solemn vow. I would do whatever it took to keep this secret hidden from the world. The following day, I found myself seated before a mirror, watching the makeup artist work diligently to prepare me for the wedding. My father's control over my mind and body was absolute. I was nothing more than a marionette, dancing to his whims and desires.With my silver hair once again elegantly pinned up in loose curls and my makeup flawlessly applied, the makeup artist couldn't help but exclaim, "You look absolutely stunning. Milo is one lucky dog." I offered a kind nod in response, acknowledging her compliment, before gracefully making my way out of the room and towards the enchanting garden of King Pack. The cherry blossoms, blooming in delicate shades of pale pink and white, created a picturesque backdrop that had made this garden the epitome of romance for generations of nobles. As I strolled, the layers of my dress whispered against the grass beneath my feet, and a gentle breeze caressed my flushed skin. It was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago, I had been in this very dress, on my way to practice reciting my vows, when Milo suddenly disappeared. So much had changed in such a short span of time. The wedding had been postponed and rescheduled, only to discover that I was now carrying another man's child. The girl who had last worn this dress felt like a distant memory. And here I was, passing by Milo, impeccably attired in a dashing tuxedo, holding another woman in a secluded corner of the garden. Margaret looked utterly distraught, her tears falling uncontrollably, while Milo attempted to soothe her with a pained expression etched upon his face. When Milo's eyes met mine, a flicker of resentment flashed across his gaze. His marriage was not a matter of love, but rather a strategic alliance tied to his position as heir. Although he didn't desire me, he dared not defy his father. Embarrassment washed over Milo, his features contorting with anger. However, Margaret wore a peculiar smile that sent a sickening sensation through my entire being. "Don't think you've won just yet. Just wait, the real spectacle is yet to come," she declared, her voice firm and chilling. Anxiety gripped me tightly as I watched them walk away, but I forced myself to suppress the unease and continued walking towards the end of the path where the ceremony would commence, and where my father would be waiting for me. My father materialized before me, gently placing the wedding veil over my face. As the music began to play, my father and I embarked on our journey down the aisle, eliciting gasps of awe from the assembled guests. My father reveled in the admiration, his hand squeezing mine with a satisfied grin.I couldn't help but find it ironic that my father only showed affection towards me in public settings like this. As I settled into my seat across from Milo, both our fathers delivered brief speeches about the union of our packs and the promise of a brighter future together. Suddenly, Margaret burst through the garden, directly confronting my father. "No! Quinn cannot marry Milo. She is not fit to be the next Luna of the Blue Moon pack." Milo stepped forward, pulling Margaret away from the Alphas. "Quinn is pregnant, but the child isn't mine. I have evidence," he declared. My heart leaped into my throat. Could he have heard me? No, that's impossible. I've been meticulous, ensuring that Calista wouldn't betray me. My body trembled involuntarily, palms sweaty. Biting my lower lip, I fought to remain composed. "I don't believe you," my father retorted. "Milo, remove Margaret." "Even if you don't believe me, the doctor who examined her is here. He can confirm everything," Margaret countered, pointing towards a man in the back row. My father snapped his fingers, and two of his betas seized the man. It suddenly clicked in my mind. It was the doctor! Margaret must have bribed him! A lump formed in my throat as my father's grip on me tightened, leaving me powerless to intervene. Turning his attention to the doctor, my father's voice boomed across the gathering. "Did my daughter come to you? Is she pregnant?" The doctor, clearly frightened, managed to choke out a response. "Yes." "Is the child Milo's?" my father demanded. Margaret clung onto Milo, a smug smile playing on her lips. "I will not marry Quinn," Milo asserted. "We haven't been together intimately for quite some time. The child is not mine." Chaos erupted as the guests started buzzing with conversation. My father glared at me, his anger evident through bulging veins and a contorted expression. "Is it true what they say?" he bellowed, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.I attempted to speak, but the words were trapped in my throat, suffocated by his iron grip. The sheer force of his anger threatened to shatter my bones. And then, without warning, his hand connected with my cheek in a violent slap, tearing through the air and leaving behind a searing pain. "Who is the father?" he bellowed, as if his very intention was to rip me apart. My explanation hung in the air, left unheard and discarded by my father's refusal to listen. It was then that a voice, bold and unwavering, sliced through the tension. "It was me." The room fell silent, and all eyes turned towards the entrance of the garden. A tall, impeccably dressed man strode forward, hands nonchalantly tucked into his pockets. Two other men flanked him, but it was the man in the center who commanded attention. He possessed a striking handsomeness that left the female guests gasping in admiration. But it was his presence that captivated me, for it was him - the call boy from that fateful night, and the father of my child. How could he be here? Before I could utter a single word, my father's oppressive power held me captive, making even the act of breathing a struggle. Margaret, annoyed and determined to drag me down to hell herself, stepped forward and demanded, "Who are you?" But the man paid her no mind. Instead, his gaze locked with mine, a tempest brewing in his eyes, while an invisible weight pressed upon the room. Margaret attempted to intervene, but my father pointed at the man in shock. "You are... Alpha Vincent!" The room erupted into chaos. "What! He is that Vincent!" "The royal crown prince Alpha Vincent!" With an air of calculated confidence, Vincent sauntered towards me, his presence looming large and intimidating. I longed to retreat, to take a step back, but I was trapped. He arched an eyebrow mockingly. "A call boy?"
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