Without another word, they turned their backs and left me alone in that room—their bed, our bed—still sticky with the evidence of their betrayal.
I sank to the floor, my heart pounding in my ears. But before I could gather my scattered thoughts, heavy footsteps approached. Wolves, my own packmates, stood at the door.
“Luna, you’re to come with us,” one said grimly. “Alpha’s orders. It’s a punishment.”
I didn’t need to ask where.
The pack’s dungeon—cold, dark, and suffocating. His punishment to me.
Days stretched before me like a bleak horizon. Locked away, forgotten, discarded. My spirit felt crushed beneath the weight of humiliation. How could I think clearly? How could I even feel anything but rage and sorrow?
And yet, the worst was Farah.
She came down to the dungeon more than once. Her voice, dripping with malice, filled the stale air as she taunted me with videos of her and Ethan—her laughing, her moaning, her triumphant grin as she bore the weight of his child.
“You should be happy, Luna,” she sneered. “You’re worthless now. This baby is the future.”
Each word felt like a knife twisting deeper into my chest. But heartbreak was gone. What was left was pure, raw disgust.