She Called Me His Whore—I Was His Luna

The wolfsbane hit my eyes like liquid fire. I gasped, my hands flying to my face as the burning sensation spread from my corneas down into my throat, my lungs. The world dissolved into a haze of tears and agony. I couldn't see Ivy anymore, couldn't see anything except the red-hot pain radiating through my skull.

"Can't shift now, can you?" Ivy's voice came from somewhere to my left, cold and satisfied. "Wolfsbane is so effective at keeping our kind... manageable."

I tried to blink the burning away, tried to focus, but my wolf was already retreating deep inside me, whimpering. The chemical had severed our connection, leaving me defenseless and human-weak. Strong hands gripped my shoulders, dragging me from the elevator.

"Where—" I choked on the word, my throat raw.

"Basement archives," Ivy said, her heels clicking against concrete as she hauled me through what felt like a stairwell. "Sub-level two. No cameras down there, no foot traffic. Perfect for a private conversation."

The air grew colder as we descended. My vision was starting to clear, but everything remained blurry, like looking through frosted glass. I stumbled, my legs unsteady, and Ivy's grip tightened.

"Careful now. We wouldn't want you to fall and hurt yourself. Not yet."

She pushed open a heavy door, and the musty smell of old paper and neglect hit me. Rows of filing cabinets lined the walls, covered in dust. A single fluorescent bulb flickered overhead, casting harsh shadows across the concrete floor.

"Welcome to your interrogation room," Ivy said, releasing me so suddenly I nearly fell. "Soundproof, isolated, and completely off the security grid. Amazing what you can accomplish when you have the right clearances."

I backed against a filing cabinet, my heart hammering. "Please, I told you the truth. Sterling gave me this necklace. We're—"

"Mates?" Ivy laughed, moving to a metal cabinet mounted on the wall. "Still clinging to that fantasy?" She opened the cabinet and withdrew something that made my blood freeze—a length of silver chain, thick and gleaming under the fluorescent light.

"Emergency restraint system," she explained, testing the weight of the chain in her hands. "We keep these in all the secure areas. You never know when you might need to subdue a rogue wolf."

The silver seemed to pulse with malevolent energy. Even from across the room, I could feel its wrongness pressing against my skin. "No, please—"

But Ivy was already moving, faster than my wolfsbane-addled reflexes could follow. She grabbed my wrists, and the silver touched my skin.

The pain was immediate and excruciating. My flesh began to smoke where the chain made contact, the acrid smell of burning skin filling the small room. I screamed, the sound echoing off the concrete walls.

"Silver burns, doesn't it?" Ivy wrapped the chain around my wrists with clinical efficiency, ignoring my struggles. "It's designed to keep our kind compliant. The more you fight, the deeper it burns."

She secured the other end of the chain to a pipe running along the wall, leaving me kneeling on the cold floor with my arms stretched above my head. The silver was already eating through my skin, leaving angry red welts that would scar.

"Now then," Ivy said, settling into a chair she'd pulled from behind one of the filing cabinets. "Let's try this again. How did you break into the Blackwood family vault?"

"I didn't break in anywhere," I gasped, trying to shift my weight to relieve the pressure on my wrists. "Sterling gave me the necklace on our mating night. Three years ago."

The slap came without warning, snapping my head to the side. Stars exploded across my vision.

"Wrong answer." Ivy's voice remained perfectly calm. "Who's paying you? Which rival pack wants the Blackwood heirlooms?"

"No one's paying me." Blood trickled from my split lip. "I'm telling you the truth. Sterling and I—"

Another slap, harder this time. My cheek felt like it was on fire.

"Lying only makes this worse for you," Ivy said, examining her manicured nails. "I have all day, Harper. And this room is very, very private."

The questions continued. The same ones, over and over, punctuated by slaps that made my ears ring. How did you get in? Who hired you? What's your real name? Where are the other stolen items?

I gave the same answers every time. Sterling. Mating night. Three years. The truth that she refused to believe.

Two hours passed. Maybe three. Time became meaningless in that windowless room. My face was swollen beyond recognition, my wrists raw and bleeding from the silver. But it was the growing ache in my abdomen that terrified me most.

At first, I thought it was just stress. Fear. But the pain was getting stronger, more rhythmic. A cramping sensation that made my breath catch.

No. Not now. Not like this.

"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible through my swollen lips. "I'm pregnant."

Ivy paused mid-question, her green eyes sharpening with interest. "Pregnant?" A slow smile spread across her face. "How convenient. Let me guess—you're going to tell me it's Mr. Blackwood's child too?"

I nodded, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Four months. Please, the stress—it's not good for the baby."

"Four months," Ivy repeated thoughtfully. "And whose baby did you say it was?"

"Sterling's. We're mates, we—"

Her laughter cut through my words like broken glass. "Oh, this is rich. Not only did you steal the family necklace, but now you're claiming to carry the Blackwood heir? Do you have any idea how pathetic that sounds?"

The cramping intensified, and I felt something warm trickling down my thighs. Panic clawed at my chest. "Please, something's wrong. I need a doctor—"

"What you need," Ivy said, standing and walking toward me with predatory grace, "is to stop lying." She lifted her foot, positioning it directly over my abdomen. "Let me help you solve this particular problem."

I tried to curl into a protective ball, to shield my unborn child, but the silver chains held me fast. My wrists screamed in agony as I pulled against the restraints.

"No!" The word tore from my throat. "Please, don't—"

Ivy's foot began its descent toward my stomach, and I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the impact that would end everything.

But something stirred inside me. Not the baby—something else. Something that had been sleeping for fifteen years, buried so deep I'd forgotten it existed. A presence that suddenly unfurled like dark wings, rising through my consciousness with ancient, terrible power.

The fluorescent light above us began to flicker more violently.