Chapter 17
5 Points
“It was Mom!” Yolanda sobbed, her little voice
cracking like it hurt her just to say it. “She knew we were allergic and still made us eat it!”
Leon nodded, too quickly, like he’d rehearsed
- it. “She’s so bad!”
I stood in the doorway of that hospital room, gripping the frame like it was the only thing holding me upright. My claws prickled beneath my skin. My fingers curled so tightly my
knuckles turned bone white.
“Leon. Yolanda.” My voice shook, low and
unrecognizable even to me. “Do you know what
me.”
you’re saying? You better tell the truth. Now.”
Before they could answer, Floyd was on me.
He moved fast–too fast–and his hand clamped around my wrist with Alpha strength, the bones. in my arm screaming under the pressure.
“Enough!” he snarled. “This is how you mother your pups? You poisoned them, and now you’re forcing them to lie for you?”
“I didn’t “My voice cracked, the sting of
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betrayal thicker than the pain in my arm.
He leaned in close, sneering. “So what, they framed you? These are your children. They don’t even have the spine to cover for themselves. And you think you’re fit to raise
them?”
Yolanda burst into tears again. Leon too. But their sobs sounded off–panicked, yes, but not pure. Not honest.
“Dad…” Yolanda sniffled, crawling into Floyd’s arms, eyes wide and watery. “We feel so bad…”
Floyd’s tone shifted, gentle, doting. “How can
we make it better?”
Leon sat up, his eyes still wet. Then he looked at
- me. Looked through me.
“She’s allergic to mangoes too,” he said, voice.
steady. “Make her drink it. Let her feel what it’s
like.”
My heart stopped.
I looked to Floyd, praying–begging–that he’d put a stop to this madness.
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Instead, he nodded.
“Fine.”
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He straightened his sleeves, calm as a storm before it breaks, and snapped his fingers.
Two of his pack enforcers–bodyguards I had personally selected for their loyalty–walked in.
“Hold her down.”
“What?!” I backed away, heart pounding, throat already starting to burn with phantom pain. “Floyd-!”
But they were faster. Trained to subdue rogue wolves and intruders. I never stood a chance.
I was forced into a chair, my arms pinned. One of them gripped my jaw so hard I thought it would dislocate. My wolf snarled inside me, clawing at the walls of my mind, but I was too stunned to shift.
A bottle of mango juice–a full liter–was tipped over my mouth. The thick, syrupy liquid poured down my throat like acid.
Ichoked
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I choked.
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Coughed.
Sputtered.
My throat caught fire instantly. The allergic reaction hit like a freight train–rashes bloomed across my face and neck. I couldn’t breathe.
My skin itched so badly I clawed at it in desperation, nails tearing across my collarbone
as the room spun.
And Floyd just stood there.
Unmoving.
Uncaring.
Watching me like I was a traitor to the pack instead of the Luna who once bore his name.
Yolanda clapped her hands. “Serves her right!”
Leon grinned. “She should feel what we feel!”
And just before the darkness took me, I saw Floyd again.
That same ice in his eyes.
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That same look he wore the day we mated -when he promised to protect me, love me, honor me.
Liar.
When I woke, I was in a hospital bed.
My throat felt like it had been scraped raw. The rash still burned across my face. I could barely lift my arm.
Outside the room, I heard them–soft voices drifting through the half–closed door.
Monica.
“Alpha Floyd,” she said sweetly, “I didn’t know the juice had mango. I just wanted to make them something special…”
“It’s not your fault,” Floyd murmured, his voice unrecognizably gentle. “You didn’t know.”
“If I’d just told you sooner… you wouldn’t have misunderstood Jillian. I shouldn’t have let the
kids cover for me.”
Cover for her?
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My stomach twisted.
- Points
Then came Yolanda’s little voice, thick with
guilt. “We’re sorry, Monica Auntie… we just… we just don’t like Mom.”
Leon chimed in. “She never lets us eat snacks.
She makes us sleep on time. She yells. We just wanted her to go away.”
I curled my fingers around the hospital blanket, squeezing so tight the stitches tore beneath my
nails.
These were my pups.
The ones I carried inside me for ten moons.
The ones I almost died bringing into this world.
When I birthed Leon, no one was there.
The nurse said Floyd was in an “important meeting.” I labored alone, in pain, bloodied,
howling.
When Yolanda was born, I hemorrhaged. They gave me a death notice and a blood
transfusion. Floyd was on a plane. Said he’d send a bouquet.
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Now those same pups–the ones I gave my body, my time, my entire soul to–were
throwing me to the wolves.
They were her pups now.
Not mine.