The Luna Who Pretended To Be Broken

The next morning, the sun streamed through the windows, its golden light mocking the storm brewing in my chest. I barely managed to haul myself out of bed when a shrill scream shattered the quiet.

“Ah!”

Georgina Wagner’s voice, high-pitched and panicked, echoed through the pack house. I froze, my heart pounding, and immediately wheeled myself toward the sound. In the hallway, Georgina sat crumpled on the floor, her face ghostly pale, her hands clutching her stomach. A pool of spilled coffee glistened beneath her, its scent sharp and bitter in the air.

Instinctively, I reached out to help her, but her words stopped me cold.

“Amina, why would you do this?” she whispered, her voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes. “I know you hate me, but the pup—the pup is innocent!”

Before I could respond, Kareem burst into the hallway, his broad frame filling the space as his stormy eyes took in the scene. His Beta aura, usually controlled, now crackled with fury.

“What happened?!” he barked, striding to Georgina’s side and helping her up. She collapsed into his arms, sobbing dramatically. “I just stepped out of my room and slipped… there’s coffee all over the floor…”

Her gaze flicked to me, her eyes wide with accusation. “It must have been Amina. She’s the only one who’s been in the kitchen.”

I stared at her, stunned. “That’s a lie! I haven’t been near the kitchen since last night!”

Kareem’s expression darkened, and he released Georgina, storming toward me. His towering frame loomed over me, his scent—once comforting, now suffocating—filling my senses. I raised my hands in defense, my voice trembling.

“Kareem, please, listen to me—”

*Smack!*

The slap came out of nowhere, sharp and brutal. My head snapped to the side, the force sending my wheelchair careening backward until it slammed into the wall. Pain exploded across my cheek, and my vision blurred as the metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. Before I could recover, Kareem grabbed my collar, yanking me forward until our faces were inches apart.

“I warned you not to touch Georgina!” he snarled, his voice low and venomous. “She’s carrying my pup!”

My ears rang, and blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the agony tearing through my chest. He hadn’t even asked me. He hadn’t even considered my side.

“I didn’t…” I choked out, my voice barely audible. “Why would I hurt her—”

“Because you’re jealous!” Georgina cut in, her voice dripping with venom. “You hate that I can give Kareem what you couldn’t—a pup.”

“Kareem, I’m so scared,” she whimpered, clutching his arm. “If I’d fallen any harder, our pup might have…”

She broke into tears again, and Kareem pulled her close, his face softening with concern. His gaze shifted to me, and the disgust in his eyes was like a knife to my heart.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured to Georgina. “I’ll take you to the healer for a check-up.” Then, his cold eyes locked on me. “As for you… I’ll deal with you when I get back.”

They left, the sound of Georgina’s sobbing fading as the pack house fell into an oppressive silence. My hands shook as I leaned down, touching the spilled coffee with my fingers. The scent was unmistakable—French roast, the kind we kept in the kitchen. But I hadn’t been in the kitchen since last night.

A sickening realization settled over me. This wasn’t an accident. Georgina had set this up. She didn’t just want my mate and my home—she wanted to erase me from Kareem’s life entirely.

I wheeled myself back to my room, locking the door behind me. The woman in the mirror stared back at me—her face swollen, her lip split, but her eyes burning with a resolve I hadn’t felt in years.

From under the bed, I pulled out the suitcase I’d hidden away and began packing my things. My hands moved quickly, methodically, as the weight of my decision settled over me. I couldn’t stay here. Not with Kareem. Not with her.

My wolf stirred within me, a low growl of agreement rumbling in the back of my mind. *It’s time to leave,* she whispered, her voice a quiet but fierce echo of my own thoughts.

I nodded, my jaw tightening as I zipped the suitcase closed. I wasn’t just leaving this house. I was leaving the life I’d known, the pack I’d served, and the mate bond that had become a chain around my neck.

But for the first time in months, I felt something other than despair. I felt hope. And it was enough to keep me moving forward.