REJECTED BY FATE, CURSED BY PROPHECY

The lower chamber was not meant for visitors.

It was a place where the stone walls kept secrets, where the air smelled of cold herbs and old smoke, where servants passed only when ordered and never lingered. Naira had been sent there many times to clean bowls, to wash cloths, to carry water for women who were not allowed to be seen by daylight.

But this time, no one had called her.

She had been folding cloth beside the fire when a guard appeared at the doorway.

"The Luna wishes to see you," he said.

Naira's hands froze.

"The Luna?" Her voice came out thin.

"Yes. Alone."

The guard did not wait for her answer. He turned and walked away, as if the path had already been chosen for her.

Naira stood slowly. The cloth slipped from her fingers and fell into the ash. Her stomach tightened. She pressed a hand against it without thinking, as though the child inside her could hear fear.

Why would the Luna want me?

She followed the corridor downward. Each step echoed too loudly. The torches were few, and their light made the shadows long and moving. The deeper she went, the colder the air became.

When she reached the lower chamber, the door was already open.

The Luna stood inside.

She was not seated on a throne. She was standing near the wall, her hands folded calmly before her, her silver dress smooth and clean even in this dark place. Her hair was braided with pale beads that glimmered in the torchlight.

She did not turn when Naira entered.

"Close the door," the Luna said.

Naira obeyed.

The sound of the door shutting felt like a stone dropped into water.

Silence followed.

"You know why you are here," the Luna said at last.

Naira swallowed. "No, my Luna."

The Luna turned slowly.

Her face was beautiful. It always had been. Cold beauty, like a blade polished until it shone. Her eyes moved over Naira from head to toe, stopping briefly at her stomach.

"You are carrying a child," the Luna said.

Naira's heart jumped. "I... yes, my Luna."

"And you claim it belongs to the Alpha's brother."

"Yes," Naira said quickly. "I swore it before the elders."

The Luna stepped closer.

"Swearing does not make lies into truth."

Naira's breath shook. "I am not lying."

The Luna smiled.

It was not a warm smile.

"Do you know why I did not expose you in the hall?" the Luna asked.

Naira did not answer.

"Because shame is sweeter when it is slow," the Luna continued. "And because I wanted to speak to you without witnesses."

She walked past Naira, circling her like a quiet wind.

"You should never have come near this house," the Luna said softly. "You should never have looked at the Alpha. You should never have dreamed."

"I did not dream," Naira whispered. "I did not plan-"

"You planned enough," the Luna cut in. "You let your body choose for you."

Naira's hands clenched. "I did not force him."

"No," the Luna agreed. "But you did not refuse."

The words struck harder than a slap.

The Luna stopped behind her.

"Do you know what people say?" the Luna asked. "They say the Alpha has always been weak with women. That he cannot tell loyalty from hunger. That a servant can climb into his bed and climb into his blood."

Naira turned. "I did not climb for power."

"Everyone climbs for something," the Luna said. "Even when they pretend they are falling."

Silence pressed between them.

Then the Luna spoke again, quieter.

"You will remove this child."

Naira's head lifted sharply. "No."

The Luna's eyes narrowed. "You will."

"I will not," Naira said. Her voice shook, but it did not break. "I swore it belongs to the Alpha's brother. He has accepted it."

"That lie will not save you," the Luna said. "And it will not save him."

Naira felt a cold line slide down her spine. "What do you mean?"

The Luna moved closer again. This time she did not circle. She stood in front of Naira, so close that Naira could see the small scar near her mouth.

"I mean," the Luna said, "that lives are easy to move when they are small and poor."

Naira frowned. "I do not understand."

The Luna leaned in slightly.

"Your father," she said. "He drinks too much wine. His heart is weak. One cup of the wrong thing, and he will sleep forever."

Naira staggered back a step. "Do not speak of him."

"Your sister," the Luna continued. "She walks to the river alone in the evenings. Accidents happen near water."

Naira's breath came fast. "You would not."

The Luna's voice was calm. "You do not know what I would do."

"You are Luna," Naira said. "You protect the pack."

"I protect my line," the Luna replied. "My blood. My place. My son's future."

Naira pressed her back against the wall. "This child has done nothing."

"Yet," the Luna said.

Silence fell again.

Then the Luna straightened.

"You have three nights," she said. "By the fourth dawn, I will not be patient."

Naira shook her head. "I will not remove him."

The Luna's eyes hardened. "Then you will watch others fall for your stubbornness."

"You cannot kill all of us," Naira whispered.

"I do not need to," the Luna said. "I only need to make you choose."

Naira slid down against the wall. Her knees bent without permission.

"You want me to kill my own child," she said.

"I want you to erase your mistake," the Luna replied. "There is a difference."

"This child is not a mistake," Naira said. "He is life."

"He is threat," the Luna corrected.

Naira lifted her head. "You fear him."

"I fear chaos," the Luna said. "And chaos always comes wrapped in flesh."

She turned toward the door.

"Think carefully," she said. "Because I do not warn twice."

She paused.

"If you speak of this, your father will drink tonight instead of tomorrow."

Then she left.

The door closed.

The chamber felt suddenly empty, too empty.

Naira stayed on the floor for a long time.

When she finally stood, her legs trembled. She pressed both hands against her stomach.

"They want you gone," she whispered. "Before you are born."

She walked back through the corridors slowly. Every guard looked like death. Every servant looked like silence.

When she reached the outer hall, her father was there, leaning on a staff.

"You look pale," he said. "Did they call you?"

She hesitated.

"Yes."

"What did they say?"

Naira looked at his face. The lines around his eyes. The tiredness. The way his hands shook slightly.

"They want me to disappear," she said.

He sighed. "I told you. You should have kept it hidden. You should have ended it quietly."

"I will not," Naira said.

He stared at her. "Then you will bury more than yourself."

That night, Naira did not sleep.

She sat near the small window and watched the moon climb and fall. Her sister slept nearby, unaware.

Naira thought of the Luna's words.

Choose.

She thought of her father's weak heart.

She thought of the Alpha's face, the way he never looked at her in public.

She thought of the child inside her, quiet and warm.

By morning, her eyes burned.

She went to the river alone and washed her face. The water was cold.

"I will not erase you," she whispered. "Even if they erase me."

Behind her, the pack began to wake.

And in the high chamber above, the Luna awaited Naira's decision.