Vengeance of the Forsaken Mate

Freda's POV The air felt heavy as I stepped into Willard’s office, my heart pounding with excitement and nerves. I clutched the small velvet box in my hand, the symbol of the life we were about to create together. My pulse quickened as I imagined his reaction to the news that I was carrying his child—our child. Everything I had ever wanted seemed within reach. But as I opened the door, the world I thought I knew shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. Willard wasn’t alone. Sybil Carter, the perfect picture of elegance and allure, was in his arms. Her laughter, rich and familiar, filled the room, and I froze, unable to process what I was seeing. His hands gripped her waist as he tilted his head down to kiss her, his words murmured softly into her ear. Words I had thought were meant only for me. It wasn’t just the intimacy of their embrace that broke me; it was the familiarity. The way his hands moved as if they knew every inch of her. The way she tilted her head back, her lips parted in a smile I had never seen her wear before. It was like watching someone else live my dream, a cruel and twisted mirror reflecting everything I thought we were. “Willard?” My voice cracked, barely a whisper. But it was enough. He turned, his expression morphing from shock to guilt. Sybil stepped back, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she straightened her blouse. “Freda,” he started, his tone uneven, “I can explain.” “Explain?” My voice rose, trembling with the betrayal coursing through me. “You lied to me! You promised it was over with her. You swore I was the only one!” Sybil’s eyes darted between us, her face a mixture of pity and triumph. She hesitated for only a moment before slipping out the door, leaving me alone with Willard and the wreckage of our love. “It’s not what you think,” he insisted, stepping toward me, but I backed away. “Not what I think? I saw you with her, Willard! How long has this been going on? Since she came back?” My voice broke, tears spilling down my cheeks. “I trusted you. I gave you everything.” “It’s complicated,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Sybil and I…we have history.” History. The word twisted in my chest like a knife. I had always known about her, the infamous first love who had left for a foreign pack, the one Willard swore he’d moved on from. I had believed him when he said I was his future. But now, it was clear that I had been nothing more than a placeholder for his past. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time,” I said, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. “Do you even love me? Or was I just convenient because she wasn’t around?” Willard’s face contorted with frustration. “Freda, it’s not like that. You know I care about you.” “Care about me?” I shot back, my voice rising. “You promised me a future. You promised me a family. And all this time, you’ve been sneaking around with her?” “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, his tone sharp. “But Sybil and I…we have a bond. It’s not something I can just ignore.” “A bond?” I laughed bitterly, my hands clenching into fists. “What about our bond, Willard? What about the promises you made to me? Or do they mean nothing because she’s back in the picture?” “You don’t understand,” he snapped, his voice finally breaking. “I’ve known Sybil my entire life. She was my first love. Things were complicated when she left, and now that she’s back…” “And now that she’s back, I’m disposable?” I interrupted, my chest heaving with the weight of my emotions. “Is that what you’re telling me?” Willard’s silence was all the answer I needed. The pain in my chest was almost unbearable, a crushing weight that left me struggling to breathe. “I gave you everything,” I said, my voice breaking. “I stood by you when no one else did. I believed in you when no one else would. And this is how you repay me?” “Freda, please,” he said, reaching for me, but I stepped back, shaking my head. “Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t touch me. Don’t say another word. You’ve said enough.” Before I could say more, the door swung open, and Sybil’s scent lingered in the air. Willard didn’t even hesitate; he pushed past me to follow her. “Where are you going?” I demanded, my voice cracking with desperation. “She’s upset,” he said over his shoulder, not stopping. “I need to make sure she’s okay. I’m sorry.” Something inside me broke. Rage and heartbreak consumed me as I followed him, determined not to let him walk away without facing the consequences. He stormed out to his car, and I threw myself into the passenger seat before he could protest. “I’m not letting you run from this,” I said through gritted teeth. Willard slammed the door shut and started the engine, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel. “This isn’t the time, Freda.” “You don’t get to decide that,” I shot back. “I deserve answers, Willard. Why? Was everything you said to me a lie? Was I just…convenient?” “You weren’t just convenient,” he snapped, his voice rising. “I do love you, Freda, but things with Sybil…it’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.” “Then make me understand!” I shouted, tears streaming down my face. “Make me understand how you could stand there and promise me the world while sneaking around with her!” “It’s not that simple!” he yelled back, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “Sybil and I…there’s history there. Things I can’t just erase.” “And what about our history?” I countered. “Does that mean nothing to you?” The argument escalated, my voice rising with every accusation, every word a raw wound. Willard snapped back, his own guilt and frustration fueling the fire. Neither of us noticed the curve in the road until it was too late. The tires screeched, and the car skidded out of control. Time slowed as we careened toward the edge of the cliff. Willard fought to regain control, but the momentum was unstoppable. “Hold on!” he yelled, but the words barely registered as the car broke through the barrier and plunged into the abyss. The last thing I remembered was the deafening crash and the sensation of falling, my world dissolving into darkness.

Freda's POV Pain greeted me before my eyes even opened. A dull, aching throb in my head and a weight in my chest that made it hard to breathe. My body felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else, someone broken. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the faint hum of machines buzzed at the edge of my awareness, pulling me back to reality. I forced my eyelids open, blinking against the harsh white light above me. The room was unfamiliar, its clean, minimalist design offering no comfort. My gaze landed on a woman standing nearby, her face soft but serious. She wore a uniform—a nurse. “Where am I?” I croaked, my throat dry and raw. The nurse’s eyes widened slightly, and she stepped closer, her movements careful. “You’re awake,” she said gently. “You’re in the Red Moon Pack’s medical wing. You’ve been unconscious for a long time.” Red Moon Pack. The name sent a jolt through me, chasing away the fog in my mind. My heart raced as memories of the accident flooded back. The argument. The curve in the road. The car spinning out of control. Falling. I gasped, my hand flying to my stomach. “My baby?” The nurse’s expression softened. “Your baby is fine. You’re lucky—both of you are. Alpha Drake and his warriors found you at the bottom of the cliff and brought you here. You’ve been in a coma for a hundred days.” A hundred days. My mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the enormity of what she was saying. Three months. I had been gone for three months, lost in the void while life went on without me. “Drake?” I echoed, the name sticking in my throat. It couldn’t be. The nurse nodded. “Yes. Alpha Drake Morgan. He’s the one who saved you.” My stomach churned, a mix of disbelief and something sharper, more bitter. Drake Morgan, the man I had rejected as my mate, the one I had chosen Willard over, had been the one to find me? The irony was cruel. As if summoned by my thoughts, the door to the room swung open, and there he was. Drake Morgan. His presence dominated the space, his tall frame and piercing eyes as commanding as I remembered. He stepped inside, his gaze locking onto mine. “So, you’re finally awake,” he said, his voice low and clipped. There was no warmth, no relief, just the cold detachment of a man who had done his duty and nothing more. I struggled to sit up, the effort sending sharp pain through my ribs. “Why?” The word escaped me in a rasp, barely audible. Drake leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. “Why did I save you?” he asked, his tone almost mocking. “Maybe I have a soft spot for broken things.” The sting of his words was immediate, but I bit back my retort. I had no strength for a battle of wits with him, not now. “I need to go back to my pack,” I said, forcing the words out despite the lump in my throat. “I can’t stay here.” Drake’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. “Go back?” He straightened, taking a step closer. “You think the Greystone Pack will welcome you with open arms after what happened?” My stomach twisted. “What are you talking about?” “They’ve moved on, Freda,” he said, his voice cold but steady. “Willard has moved on.” His words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. I clenched my fists, trying to steady my trembling voice. “I have to go back. My life is there.” “Your life?” Drake’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “The same life that led you to a car crash and left you for dead at the bottom of a cliff?” He shook his head. “You’re safer here.” “Safe?” I snapped, anger flaring despite my weakness. “With you? The man who hates me?” Drake’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Hate you?” he repeated, his voice quieter now, almost dangerous. “Don’t flatter yourself, Freda. Saving you was an act of decency, not affection.” The tension between us crackled like a storm, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on it. My priority was my child and finding my way back to the life I had left behind, no matter how fractured it was. “Thank you for saving me,” I said, forcing the words past my pride. “But I can’t stay here. I have to leave.” Drake stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. “Do whatever you want. It’s not my place to stop you.” His indifference stung, but I pushed it aside, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. My body protested every movement, but I forced myself to stand. The nurse rushed to my side, her hands hovering as if she wanted to help but didn’t dare. “You’re not ready to leave,” she said, worry etched across her face. “I don’t have a choice,” I replied, my voice firmer than I felt. I took a shaky step forward, then another. Each one felt like a victory, a step closer to reclaiming what I had lost. But as I reached the doorway, Drake’s voice stopped me. “You’ll regret going back,” he said, his tone colder than ever. “They won’t want you. Not after everything.” I didn’t turn around. “That’s for me to find out.” As I crossed the threshold, Drake’s final words followed me, lingering like a warning: “You don’t know the half of what you’re walking into.”

Freda's POV The journey back to Greystone Pack was a blur of pain and determination. Every step felt like a battle against my body’s protests, but I pushed forward, clinging to the thought of my child and the life I needed to reclaim. The forest loomed around me, its familiar scent a mix of comfort and dread. When the pack’s gates came into view, my heart raced, torn between relief and trepidation. I hesitated for a moment, staring at the gates that once symbolized safety. Now, they felt like the walls of a prison, a place where I’d been betrayed and abandoned. But I had no choice. I needed answers, closure, and my life back. Squaring my shoulders, I stepped forward. The guards at the entrance stiffened at my approach. Their eyes widened in recognition before narrowing in suspicion. One of them stepped forward, blocking my path. “Freda?” His voice was filled with disbelief. “You’re supposed to be…” He trailed off, his expression unreadable. “Dead?” I finished for him, my voice sharp. “Well, I’m not. Now move.” He exchanged a glance with his companion but stepped aside. I didn’t wait for further discussion, pushing past them and heading straight for the pack’s main hall. My heart pounded with every step, each one bringing me closer to the confrontation I both dreaded and craved. The sound of celebration hit me first. Laughter, music, and the hum of voices filled the air as I neared the grand hall. My steps faltered, confusion washing over me. What could they possibly be celebrating? When I reached the hall’s entrance, the answer hit me like a blow to the chest. Willard stood at the center of the room, his arm wrapped around Sybil. Her radiant smile matched the glow of the ceremonial garb she wore. Around them, the pack cheered and applauded. A wedding. They were celebrating their union. My vision blurred, my mind refusing to process the scene before me. The man who had promised me the world was standing there, binding himself to someone else as if I had never existed. My hands clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. “Willard...” I stepped into the hall, the noise dimming as those closest to me noticed my presence. Whispers spread like wildfire, heads turning to follow their gaze. Willard’s eyes met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a flicker of recognition. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by confusion and…disdain. “Who is this?” he asked, his voice cold and detached. “A rogue?” The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing down on me. A rogue. He didn’t know me. He didn’t recognize me. The realization hit me harder than the crash that had brought me here. “Willard,” I said, my voice trembling. “It’s me. It’s Freda.” His brow furrowed, and he turned to Sybil, who placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said, his tone dismissive. “Guards, remove her.” “No!” I cried, stepping forward. “You know me, Willard. We were…we were everything to each other! How can you not remember?” The guards moved to grab me, but I fought against them, desperation fueling my strength. “Please! You have to remember! I—” “Enough!” Willard’s voice boomed, silencing the room. He stepped closer, his expression hard. “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but you’re not welcome. Leave, now.” Tears streamed down my face as the guards dragged me toward the exit. The pack’s whispers grew louder, their judgmental eyes burning into me. I looked back one last time, hoping for some sign, some shred of the man I had loved. But Willard’s gaze remained cold, his arm tightening around Sybil. Outside the hall, the guards released me, their expressions a mix of pity and contempt. I stumbled away, my legs weak and my heart shattered. The realization that Willard truly didn’t remember me—or worse, didn’t care—left me hollow. As I reached the edge of the forest, a familiar figure stepped into view. Tina, one of the pack’s servants and my only friend during my time here, rushed to my side. “Freda,” she whispered, her voice filled with urgency. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t have come back.” I shook my head, my words failing me. Tina’s expression softened, and she guided me to a nearby log, sitting beside me. “Willard…he doesn’t remember you,” she said carefully. “After the accident, he was in a coma. When he woke up, he…he lost parts of his memory. Everything about you is gone.” The truth felt like a knife twisting in my chest. “And no one told him?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Tina hesitated, then shook her head. “Helen didn’t want him to know. She said it would only confuse him, and with Sybil helping him recover…” Of course. Helen. Willard’s mother had always hated me, blaming me for every misfortune that befell their family. She must have seen this as the perfect opportunity to erase me from his life entirely. “I’ll find a way,” I said, my voice gaining strength. “I’ll make him remember. I have to.” Tina’s grip on my arm tightened. “Be careful, Freda. Helen won’t let you back into his life so easily.” As Tina’s warning echoed in my mind, a new resolve took root. I wouldn’t let Helen or anyone else keep me from the truth. I would make Willard remember—no matter the cost.

Freda's POV The smell of the damp stone walls in the maid’s chambers was suffocating as Tina led me inside. My heart pounded, a mix of dread and determination coursing through me. I had barely crossed the threshold when a voice sliced through the stale air. “So predictable,” Helen drawled, her figure emerging from the shadows like a predator who’d been lying in wait. Her icy gaze locked onto mine, and a cruel smile curled on her lips. “I knew you couldn’t stay away.” Tina froze beside me, her face pale as she dipped her head. I squared my shoulders, refusing to cower under Helen’s piercing stare. “You have no right to keep me from this pack,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “This is my home, and I won’t leave.” Helen let out a cold, mirthless laugh. “Home? You’re mistaken, Freda. This isn’t your home. You’re nothing but an unwanted ghost haunting what doesn’t belong to you.” She stepped closer, her presence suffocating. “But I’ll allow you to stay… under certain conditions.” I clenched my fists at my sides, unwilling to let her see how her words cut. “What conditions?” “You will serve Sybil as her personal maid,” Helen said, her tone laced with mockery. “She’s pregnant, you know. With Willard’s child.” The air left my lungs as if I’d been punched. “What?” Helen’s smirk deepened. “Yes, you heard me. And she’ll need extra care during her pregnancy. A maid… and a blood donor. Convenient, isn’t it, that you share her blood type?” My mind reeled, disbelief crashing over me like a tidal wave. “You can’t be serious.” “Oh, but I am,” Helen said, her voice as sharp as a blade. “And let me make one thing clear. If you so much as breathe a word to Willard about your past with him, or about your pathetic little feelings, there will be consequences. Grave consequences.” “You can’t stop me,” I said, though my voice trembled slightly. Helen’s expression hardened, her eyes gleaming with menace. “Try me, Freda. I’ll make you regret every moment you remain in this pack.” Her words settled over me like a dark cloud, but I swallowed my fear. No matter what, I wouldn’t let her win. Not completely. ..... Being Sybil’s maid was a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. Every day brought a new humiliation, a new reminder of how far I’d fallen. Sybil took every opportunity to flaunt her position, her soft hands gesturing to the tasks she deemed beneath her. “Freda, the floors need scrubbing again,” she said one morning, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “And make sure it’s spotless this time. Willard likes everything perfect.” I gritted my teeth as I knelt on the cold floor, scrubbing until my fingers bled. Sybil sat nearby, sipping tea and chatting with Helen as if I weren’t there. “It’s amazing how some people think they can rise above their station,” Helen said, her tone casual but pointed. “Only to end up right where they belong.” Sybil laughed, a delicate sound that grated against my ears. “It’s almost sad, really. But at least she’s useful for something.” Their words burned, but I kept my head down, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. Each insult, each cruel order, only strengthened my resolve. They wanted to break me, to make me disappear. But I wouldn’t let them. I'll find a way to end their cruelty. Weeks passed in a haze of endless tasks and whispered taunts. My body grew weaker under the strain, the stress gnawing at my strength. The sight of Willard and Sybil together, their closeness flaunted at every turn, was a dagger to my heart. But I held onto the hope that I could find a way to reach him, to make him remember. One evening, as I carried a tray of tea to Sybil’s room, the world tilted. My vision blurred, and a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. The tray slipped from my hands, the shattering of porcelain echoing in the hallway as I crumpled to the floor. “What is this mess?” Sybil’s voice cut through the haze of pain, her tone annoyed rather than concerned. She stepped into the hallway, her expression sour as she looked down at me. “Can’t you do anything right?” “I… I need help,” I managed to whisper, clutching my stomach. Warmth seeped between my fingers, and my heart froze as I realized it was blood. Sybil’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Pathetic. Clean this up before someone sees.” She turned on her heel, leaving me there, broken and bleeding. Desperation clawed at me as I dragged myself down the hall, each movement a battle. I needed to find someone, anyone who could help. And then I saw him. Willard stood at the end of the corridor, his broad shoulders rigid as he turned toward me. Relief flooded my chest, hope sparking for the first time in weeks. “Willard,” I gasped, reaching out to him. “Please, help me.” His gaze met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw something in his eyes—concern, recognition, anything. But then his expression hardened, and he walked past me without a word. The hope that had burned so brightly flickered and died, leaving only darkness in its wake. As I lay there, my strength fading, one thought consumed me: if I survived this, I would make them all pay.

Freda's POV The moment I woke up, I knew exactly where I was—the pack’s infirmary. The sterile scent of antiseptic burned my nostrils, and the dull hum of distant voices pricked at my heightened senses. My entire body ached, but one thought overpowered everything else. My baby. My hand trembled as it slid over my stomach, feeling for any sign of movement. A wave of relief washed over me when I sensed the faint but steady life within. We were alive. Against all odds, my child and I had survived. I exhaled shakily, forcing myself to focus. I had to get out of here. I couldn’t trust anyone in this pack—not after what they had done to me. Just as I was about to sit up, faint voices from beyond the infirmary door made me freeze. Helen. Sybil. And a third voice—the doctor’s. I stayed perfectly still, closing my eyes and straining to hear. Their words made my blood run cold. “She should have died in that accident,” Helen hissed. “Both her and that bastard child.” A sickening silence followed before Sybil’s voice chimed in, softer but no less cruel. “But she didn’t. So, what do we do now?” Helen scoffed. “We eliminate the problem. She’s carrying Willard’s child, and I won’t allow it to be born. I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure my son’s future remains untainted.” My heartbeat thundered in my ears. “Madame Helen—” the doctor hesitated. “You’re asking me to—” “I’m not asking,” Helen cut her off. “I’m ordering you. Find the wolfsbane. Make her drink it. And do it before she wakes up.” I had heard enough. Terror gripped me, but I forced myself to stay calm. If they thought I was still unconscious, I had a small window of time to escape before they carried out their plan. The door creaked, and footsteps approached. I felt the weight of Sybil’s gaze as she leaned in. “She should have died in the accident,” she murmured, her breath brushing against my cheek. “She’s nothing but a stain in Willard’s past.” Helen let out a dark chuckle. “It doesn’t matter. She won’t be around much longer.” My nails dug into my palm as I willed myself not to react. I had to wait until they left. Seconds later, Helen barked an order at the doctor. “Call me when she wakes up. This needs to be handled immediately.” Their footsteps receded, and then the door clicked shut. I couldn’t breathe. My pulse pounded violently as I fought back the helpless rage clawing at my chest. I wouldn’t let them win. I wouldn’t let them take my child from me. I had to get out—now. Ignoring the pain, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, biting my lip to keep from crying out. My limbs trembled as I stood, but I forced myself forward. Each step felt like walking through fire, but I didn’t stop. Just as I reached the door, it burst open. I stumbled back, my heart nearly stopping as I faced the last person I expected to see. Jonas. His expression was tense, his eyes scanning me with worry. “Freda,” he breathed, stepping forward. My resolve broke. I launched myself into his arms, gripping his shirt tightly. “Jonas, please—you have to help me. Helen and Sybil—they’re going to kill my baby.” His entire body went rigid. He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. “You’re pregnant?” he whispered, his voice laced with pain. Tears filled my eyes as I nodded. “Yes... With Willard’s child.” Jonas sucked in a sharp breath, his jaw tightening. He looked conflicted, torn between his loyalty to his family and the truth in front of him. Then, after a long pause, he inhaled deeply, as if making a decision. “I’ll help you get out of the pack’s premises, but I can’t betray my family, Freda.” My heart sank, but I nodded, understanding his struggle. “We need to get to the forest before they see us,” he continued, his grip tightening on my wrist. “I can only get you that far. After that, you’re on your own.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and whispered, “That’s enough.” Jonas led me through the dimly lit hallways of the infirmary, his movements precise and cautious. Every shadow felt like a threat, every echoing footstep a warning. My heart pounded in rhythm with our hurried escape. We reached a back exit, but as Jonas cracked open the door, voices erupted from down the hall. My stomach twisted as I recognized Helen’s shrill tone. “Find her! Now!” Jonas cursed under his breath. “They’re onto us. We need to run.” I clenched his arm, desperation clawing at my throat. “Where can I go?” Jonas exhaled sharply. “I don’t know. But we have to move now.” The door behind us burst open, guards spilling into the hallway. Jonas shoved me forward. “Run, Freda!” I sprinted into the night, my heart hammering against my ribs. The forest loomed ahead, dark and unyielding, but freedom lay beyond it. Behind me, Helen’s furious scream pierced the air. “Don’t let her escape!” I ran faster. Toward the unknown. Toward survival. And as the shadows of the forest swallowed me whole, one name echoed in my mind. Drake.

Freda's POV I thought I had a chance. I thought I could make it. But the moment my feet hit the forest floor, I knew I wasn’t fast enough. They caught me. A sharp blow to the back of my head sent me tumbling to the ground. My vision blurred as I fought against the darkness threatening to consume me. Rough hands grabbed my arms, yanking me to my feet. I thrashed, kicking and biting, but they were too strong. The guards didn’t take me back to the infirmary or the maids' chambers. Instead, they dragged me to a secluded part of the pack’s land—a place I had never seen before. The scent of damp stone and blood filled my nostrils as they shoved me into a cold, windowless room. A dungeon. I hit the ground hard, scraping my palms on the rough stone floor. The door slammed shut behind me with a deafening clang. I scrambled to my feet and threw myself against it, pounding with all my strength. "Please! Let me out! You don’t have to do this!" The guards didn’t respond. Their retreating footsteps echoed down the corridor before silence swallowed everything. Panic clawed at my throat. I turned, scanning the small space. No windows. No furniture. Just darkness. My breathing turned shallow. They were going to kill me. They were going to kill my baby. Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. My body trembled as exhaustion weighed me down, but I refused to let it consume me. I needed to escape. I needed to think. Then, I heard them. Footsteps. Slow. Purposeful. The door creaked open, and Helen Ashbourne stepped inside, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "You really thought you could escape, didn’t you?" Her voice dripped with amusement as she stalked toward me. "You’ve always been too cunning for your own good, Freda. But not cunning enough." I clenched my fists, willing myself not to cower. "Why are you doing this? What do you want?" Helen tilted her head, a cruel smile spreading across her lips. "Did you really think I’d let you leave with Willard’s child? That I’d allow a bastard to challenge my grandchild’s future?" I recoiled as her words sliced through me. "But don’t worry," she continued, her voice sickeningly sweet. "We have a different plan now. One that requires you alive—for now." I swallowed hard. "What plan?" She chuckled and turned toward the door. "You’ll find out soon enough. Get some rest, dear. You’ll need it." With that, she was gone, the heavy door locking behind her. I staggered back, my mind racing. They weren’t going to kill me yet. But why? What could they possibly want with me and my child? A voice stirred in my head, soft but strong. We will get through this, my wolf whispered. You are not alone. I took a shaky breath, placing a protective hand over my stomach. She was right. I couldn’t give up. Not now. Days passed. Maybe weeks. Each day was the same. The guards brought food and water, but no one spoke to me. Pack doctors checked on me regularly, ensuring my health—but never answering my questions. They wanted me alive. They wanted my baby to be healthy. But why? Time became meaningless. My only companions were the echo of my own thoughts and the quiet strength of my unborn child. I spoke to them—both my wolf and my baby—whispering promises of survival, of escape, of vengeance. Then, everything changed. Pain ripped through me, sudden and unrelenting. I gasped, clutching my belly as the first contraction hit. It was too soon. The door burst open. The doctor rushed in, followed by Helen. I tried to resist, tried to fight, but the pain was too much. My body betrayed me, forcing me into the depths of labor. Hours blurred together. I screamed until my throat was raw. My body trembled, wracked with agony. Then, finally, a cry pierced the suffocating air. My baby’s cry. I reached out, but the doctor stepped away, cradling my child in their arms. I barely had the strength to lift my head, but I saw it—saw them pass my baby to Helen. "No," I croaked, my vision swimming. "Please… give me my baby." Helen smirked, rocking the newborn in her arms as if she had won. "Such a fragile little thing," she murmured, looking down at the baby. "Much better suited for a family that actually deserves it." Terror gripped me. "What are you doing?" My voice cracked as I tried to push myself up, my body weak from the blood loss. "You can’t take my baby!" Helen turned her cold gaze on me. "Oh, but I can. This child will be raised where it belongs. Not by a disgrace like you." Rage boiled in my veins, but I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe. "Please," I whispered, my vision swimming with unshed tears. "You don’t have to do this." Helen’s smile widened as she handed my baby to the doctor. "Proceed with the plan," she ordered. I struggled, trying to crawl toward them, but the doctor pressed a needle into my arm. "No!" I gasped, but my body betrayed me, going limp as the drug surged through my veins. Helen leaned in one last time, her voice a poisonous whisper. "You will finally face your fate soon. Goodbye, Freda." Darkness threatened to take me, but I fought it, forcing my eyes to stay open. "You won’t get away with this," I whispered, my voice hoarse. Helen chuckled, her expression full of cruel satisfaction. "Oh, dear. I already have." The last thing I heard was my baby’s cry fading into the distance. And then, everything went black.