“You lost the pup during the transfusion. I am so sorry,” she murmured.
My mind spun. “Why… why did you take my blood when I carried a pup?”
“Your mate approved it,” she replied gently.
“Did he… know?” I whispered, dread clawing at me.
“Yes,” she said quietly, and the words sank deep, leaving a hollow ache that no time could heal.
Selene
“Luna Selene?”
The healer’s voice drifted toward me like an echo in a cave, barely reaching through the crushing ache twisting my lower belly. My hands instinctively pressed against my abdomen as tears blurred my vision. For moons—years, even—I had prayed the Moon Goddess would bless me with a pup. Two winters ago, Gideon and I tried relentlessly, clinging to the hope that a child would steady our marriage, breathe life back into the bond that had been fading.
But then he’d sunk his claws into Brielle.
And once she slithered her way into his bed, he barely touched me anymore. The rare times he did, he was half‑drunk, his breath thick with ale, his wolf disinterested in me entirely. Even then, I kept hoping. I foolishly believed that an heir, a tiny heartbeat, would tether us together again.
Instead… Gideon had ordered the death of our pup.