Vengeance: The Alpha Who Stole My Womb

Giselle stood before us, cradling a bouquet of fresh flowers in her arms. With a voice as composed as still water, she said, "Alpha, Luna, I've brought some fresh flowers."

As I looked at her, my thoughts drifted back to three years ago.

Back then, Griffith and I had just come of age. We had grown up together, loved each other with the certainty of fate, and so, with hearts full of anticipation, we sought out the Moon Goddess to receive her blessing.

But fate had a different script in mind. The Moon Goddess did not bless our bond. Instead, she pointed to another woman—Giselle—as Griffith's true mate.

Griffith erupted in fury. He rejected the mate bond outright, seized my hand, and turned to leave. But Giselle knelt before us, blocking our path.

"I have no family," she pleaded. "I know I can never be the Alpha's mate. I ask for nothing but a place to stay."

My heart wavered. I persuaded Griffith to let her stay, even arranging for her to work in the city's greenhouse.

Over the years, Griffith never once softened toward her. Whenever she came to deliver flowers, he would make a point of avoiding her presence. I had taken his coldness as proof of his loyalty, even going so far as to ask him not to be so harsh on her.

I accepted the bouquet from Giselle and turned away, placing the flowers into a bronze vase.

In the polished surface of the vase, I saw it.

Giselle's hands—pale, boneless as a serpent—slithered around Griffith's neck. Before I could react, she pressed a quick kiss to his face.

And Griffith did not push her away.

Instead, he flicked his gaze toward me before lightly shoving Giselle aside, not with anger, but with familiarity. As if to chastise her, his hand lingered on her bottom, giving it a squeeze.

The two of them had been entangled all along.

The realization struck like a knife to the gut, and I laughed at my own foolishness.

Feigning exhaustion, I told them I would retire to my room. Instead, I slipped into the corridor and activated the spell my father had once taught me—a sight spell. A scrying crystal bloomed in my palm, revealing the greenhouse beyond.

I had used this spell to spy on enemies before. Now, I was using it to confirm my own lover's betrayal.

The moment I left, Griffith shoved Giselle onto a table, his voice low and seething. "Haven't I told you to restrain yourself in front of Ellia?"

Giselle only giggled as she tugged at the buttons of his shirt. "I missed you," she murmured. "You've been spending so many nights with her."

She exhaled against his ear, but her gaze drifted toward me—as if she knew I was watching.

"Sir," she whispered, "isn't this place special? You built this greenhouse just for your wife. Every flower here is one she adores. Doesn't it make things more… thrilling?"

With that, she pulled apart her dress, revealing the delicate lace beneath.

Griffith's eyes darkened. The hunger in them swallowed him whole. He kissed her with an urgency I had once believed was meant only for me.

I listened as their breaths tangled, as the room filled with sounds of longing, of betrayal. My own breath grew ragged. A cold sweat broke over my skin. Pain, sharp and relentless, skewered my heart.

This man—this man who had sworn he would love only me, who had vowed he would never betray me—was now devouring another woman in the space he had built for me.

The truth was undeniable. Griffith had betrayed me.

My knees buckled beneath the weight of it all. I clung to the wall, refusing to confront them in my broken state. My pride would not allow it.

When Griffith finally left, Giselle did not. Instead, she stepped toward the corner where I hid.

Towering above me, she looked down with a quiet, triumphant smile.

"Luna," she said, "you saw everything, didn't you? So what if you were his childhood love? So what if you come from noble blood? The one he loves now is me. And," she paused, savoring the moment, "I am already carrying his child."