chapter 4

I whipped around and saw Lucas stride into the room with several Pack Warriors.

My whole body tensed. “What are you doing?!”

The next second, Lucas yanked me into his arms, his scent pushing at me like it was supposed to soothe—only it made my lungs feel smaller.

“Relax, sweetheart. I just think Mother deserves a safer, more comfortable environment. I’ve arranged somewhere better for her.”

I watched his men start moving my mother’s bed—rough, careless—and something in me snapped.

I exploded with strength and tore myself out of Lucas’s hold—

His eyes flashed with surprise. He hadn’t expected me to resist his compulsion.

“Stop! Don’t touch my mother!”

No one listened. In the shove and chaos, I hit the floor hard.

“Aeliana!” Lucas moved like he was going to help—then Lillian cut in front of him.

“Uncle Lucas, let me.” Lillian crouched like she was helping, then in the blind spot of everyone else’s eyes, she drove her knee brutally into my abdomen.

Pain detonated through my lower belly.

She hauled me up roughly. I tried to speak—Lucas got there first, his voice stamped with Alpha authority:

“Aeliana. Your mother will have the best care. But until you sign the statement, you won’t see her.”

I fought the pain and lifted my chin.

“Lucas Black—if you lay a hand on my mother, I swear by the Moon Goddess, even if I have to become a Rogue, I will never let you go.”

He stepped closer, brushed my bangs back with fingers that felt gentle and cruel at the same time.

“Aeliana. Be good, okay? Tomorrow I’m holding a press conference. All you have to do is show up, sign the statement in public, and withdraw the case.”

“Over my dead body!” I screamed, and Liora tore through my mind with a furious howl.

Then Lillian suddenly dropped to the ground, eyes instantly flooding, voice trembling like a victim:

“Luna! Your scent… you used Luna pressure on me?!”

“It hurts… my wolf is scared…”

Lucas’s attention snapped to her. He pulled her into his arms like she was fragile.

I was shoved again—hard—and my body spun off balance, crashing into the cold metal edge of the bed frame.

The corner dug into my side, brutal and sharp.

A spike of pain burst so bright my vision went dark, and I folded with a strangled sound.

But worse than the impact was what came next—deep in my belly, a violent cramp, a sudden dragging, sinking agony.

It was unfamiliar. It was wrong. It froze my blood.

Warm liquid spilled uncontrollably, soaking the hem of my dress.

Pain and instinctive terror swallowed me whole.

Some leftover piece of trust—stupid, desperate—made me reach out toward the man who once swore he’d protect me:

“Lucas… it hurts… help…”