Alpha's Regret: Chasing My Pregnant Luna

Ivy's POV

I run like my life depends on it.

I run as fast as I can.

Fear is like an invisible phantom chasing after me.

My breath comes out loudly and my vision blurs.

I tightly clutch the pendant Alyssa handed me before she asked me to go and call for help.

After all, I was the only one who could do so.

The only one who didn't have an inner wolf and wasn't affected by the poisonous gas laced with Wolfsbane that the robbers had unleashed on everyone.

Faster. Go, Faster, Ivy.

My footsteps hasten as I think about Alyssa. She was the kind of person who I could so easily imagine as a friend in another life. A life where we didn't meet like this - on the precipice of life and death.

Maybe we could still be friends. If I can just reach help in time.

I had to save her. I had to go back for her. I had to -

My thoughts come to a careening halt as something hard hits the back of my head. Sharp pain lances through me as I teeter to the side.

"I have to go back-" I whisper weakly as my vision blurs and dims until I see nothing but pitch black darkness...

____________________

My eyes shoot open, and my entire body is shaking. The remnants of the nightmare cling to me like glue.

Ever since the night of the robbery, I have had these dreams. I run and run to try and get someone to help us. To save Alyssa from dying. But, I can't. I am attacked and then, everything's over.

Gingerly, I get up and lift a trembling hand to reach the glass of water on my bedside table.

Immediately, cold seeps into my bones, and my shivering increases.

I hate this place.

It's dark with huge marble walls, sparsely furnished rooms, and is unbearably, terrifyingly cold.

This is where the Lycan king has me locked away for the past few days.

He had refused to listen to any of my reasoning and basically kidnapped me from my wedding and threw me into this empty palace.

Now, every day, a stone-cold woman with a severe expression comes in with food and other necessities. She never talks to me, never asks me how I am.

My days go by in solitude, and my nights are spent terrified, scared of the shadows I imagine hunting me in this dark palace.

It is my very own personal jail. Only, my jailer is the most powerful being in the kingdom.

Just the thought of his angry eyes - twin pools of malevolent storms - is enough to send fear racing through me. I yank my blanket further over me until it comes up to my chin.

Still, the chill does not go away. I am afraid it never will.

Suddenly, the opening of the door has me looking up. For a brief moment, I wonder if it is Alexander, and the mere idea has me filled with dread.

But it isn't him.

I gasp as I see the middle-aged man entering the room. He wears a grim expression, and his graying hair is neatly set into place. He stalks inside like he knows how important a man he is.

And, as the chief minister of the entire kingdom, he really is an important man.

My father. Joseph Blackwood.

My throat feels tight, and tears form in my eyes as I quickly get up from the bed. I feel like a scared little girl as I take him in. A growing feeling forms in my belly and expands into my chest.

It's hope.

On instinct, my hands go to straighten the wrinkled dress I am in. I fidget under my father's stern gaze, fearful for his disappointment.

He gives a once-over to the room I am in and then turns to look at me flatly.

"So, I see you are settling in quite well, then."

For a moment, it feels like my world has come to a stop. I stare at him, unable to form a response.

A slow, painful feeling takes over me.

He is not here to ask me how I am doing. He is not here to save me and take me away.

A tear falls from my eye before I can stop it, and the sharp twinge of heartache makes my vision blurry.

As he comes further into the room, I realize there is something in his hands. It only takes me a moment to realize what it is, and a stuttered breath leaves my lips.

It is a wedding dress.

My face crumples as I look back at him. The hope that had risen in my chest effectively died.

"Oh, Ivy, finally, you have proven not to be completely worthless. I am so happy you are marrying the Lycan King. Now, as his wife and mate, you can be his confidante and help me get all the information I would need to increase our family's influence."

He speaks in a pleased manner, completely oblivious to my world falling apart. When I stay silent, his eyes narrow at me.

"Oh, don't look so crestfallen. Many women would kill to be in your position. Granted, I would have wanted your sister and not you to be the king's wife. Still, legitimate or not, you are still my daughter, and you should do your duty."

Pain slithers through me like it always does when he reminds me of who I am to him. A bastard child. An inconvenience.

As if he wasn't the one who deceived my mother and hid his real wife and child from her. The only reason he had taken me in was that the kingdom did not allow fathers to abandon children out of wedlock.

Never once had he let me forget about that. Even once.

"But, father- s-surely, surely you see where he is keeping me? He hates me. Please, please save me from this sham of a marriage." I let out the words in a broken whisper, hoping to plead to any mercy left in him.

However, I am only met with a hard, unrelenting gaze.

"Do as I say, or don't expect me to keep paying for your mother's treatment." His threat hits me worse than a slap. It is worse than anything he could have said to me.

Before I can say a word in response, he is already turning away.

"Be sure to wear the dress, your sister especially chose this for you." With that last parting order, he leaves me in my new prison.

The moment he walks out, my legs give out beneath me. Shaking, I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.

I feel so alone, so helpless-

No, Ivy, get a hold of yourself.

I know I cannot keep crying. I have to be strong if I am to survive this ordeal. With still shaking fingers, I wipe away my tears and get back on my feet.

Slowly, I walk towards the dress.

A broken smile makes way to my lips at the thought of my elder half-sister, Eliza, picking this dress out for me. She is the only person in my family who has always been kind to me, so I have no choice but to honor her gesture.

With shaky fingers, I take out the dress and hold it up in front of me. With thousands of glistening crystals embedded in the bodice, the softest silk and hand-stitched lace, it is the most stunning dress I have seen in my entire life.

It is a dress fit for a queen.

Just for a moment, I forget about the absolute hell my life has been for the past few days. Instead, an almost childlike glee takes hold of me as I take off my clothes and quickly put the dress on me.

I run towards the mirror and gasp in shock, hardly able to recognize myself. It fits like a dream, and I look beautiful in it.

The smallest hint of a smile tugs at my lips as I admire the dress.

But then, the air shifts, cold and heavy, and I freeze.

My breath catches in my throat as I see a figure reflected in the mirror.

My heart nearly stops.

With a terrified scream, I whirl around, my eyes locking onto Alexander.

The Lycan King stands there, silent and still, a predator in the night.

His eyes are fixed on the dress I'm wearing, and I can almost see the darkness radiating off him, thick and suffocating. I didn't even hear him come in. He must have moved like a shadow, silently closing in on me.

As I watch, silent fury overtakes him, bleaching the darkness in his eyes until they are nothing but icy shards. He clenches his hand, and the small glass of brandy he holds shatters in his grip. The sharp sound echoes through the room, the shards cutting into his skin. Blood drips to the floor, and I feel like my entire world is collapsing around me.

I can't move. I can't run. I am a rabbit in the paws of the mighty wolf.

My whole body trembles as I stand there, rooted in place, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of my chest. I nervously grip the sides of the dress to steady myself.

"How dare you?" His voice is low, lethal, like the calm before a storm. His words slice through the air, promising death.

"How dare you wear the dress my fiancée picked for herself?"

His words hit me like a physical blow, and I stagger back a step, my mind racing. I want to explain, to tell him this is a mistake - a horrible, terrible coincidence.

That, this is only a dress my sister lovingly sent for me. That, I would never, ever be as cruel as to wear Alyssa's dress and mock her memory like this. But the words are stuck in my throat in the face of his wrath.

I can't speak. I can't even breathe properly.

"Take it off," he commands, his voice harsh and unforgiving.

I start to shake even more, my knees threatening to give out beneath me.

"I-I can't... not with you in here," I manage to whisper, my voice small, nothing like the fierce plea I want it to be.

"Take it the fuck off," he growls, and with a vicious movement, he hurls the remnants of the glass against the wall. It shatters with a loud crash, and a small whimper escapes my lips before I can stop it.

"Take it off, or I will do it for you," he threatens, his voice low and dangerous, every word dripping with menace.

He takes a step closer, and I take one back instinctively. His presence is overwhelming - it fills the room, takes up all of my air.

My hands fumble with the dress, my fingers numb with pain. I struggle to undo the delicate buttons, my vision blurring with tears that I refuse to let fall.

Slowly, he closes the distance between us.

The buttons slip from my grasp in the urgency of it all, and I bite back a sob, my entire body trembling uncontrollably now.

Just, when he is inches away from me, the fear gets the best of me. Without realizing it, I yank at the buttons and end up tearing apart the delicate dress.

It falls open around me, and I scramble to hold it up with both hands, covering my breasts from his eyes.

He catches the movement, and his eyes narrow.

He is impossibly close to me now. I am completely backed up against the wall.

Vulnerable, exposed, and at his mercy.

I watch, as his eyes trace my bare shoulders, the shake of my fingers, the top of my breasts that are still visible to him.

I watch, as slowly the dark anger in his eyes ebbs away.

Until, they fill with something I can't describe.

I see him lifting his fingers towards me, and I tightly shut my eyes.

I am too humiliated to face him, too scared to see what he is going to do to me.

I am sure he is going to hurt me. I am sure he is going to make me pay for what he believes I did.

I am sure of so many awful things, but what he actually does is something I could never have imagined in my wildest dream...