Chapter 3
Nina let out a cruel little laugh.
“That dumb mutt? We took him to the Alliance Arena today. Thought we’d make some easy money betting on him,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But the damn thing didn’t even fight. Just whimpered like a coward. We lost a fortune because of him.”
She crossed her arms, her tone full of disdain.
“So I had someone send him to the slaughterhouse.”
The world stopped.
My ears rang. My chest tightened until I couldn’t breathe.
I turned to Alpha Eddy, praying—begging—that she was lying.
“Tell me she’s wrong,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Tell me that isn’t true.”
Eddy let out a long sigh, already irritated. “Carol, seriously? What kind of tone is that? For someone who was once the Red Tree Tribe’s future Luna, you sure lack grace.”
I stared at him, eyes wide, heart splintering.
Anna’s mocking voice rang out next.
“Look at her, still acting like she’s someone important.” She scoffed. “You’re nothing now. Just a servant. Get that through your head.”
Then Mia chimed in with a laugh that sliced like a blade. “All this fuss over a stray dog? You think Eddy should give his life for some useless mutt?”
I didn’t hear the rest.
I was already running.
The wind whipped against my face, but I barely felt it.
All I could see was Baby—his sweet eyes, the soft wag of his tail when he saw me, the warmth he gave me after my mother’s death. Alpha Eddy had placed that tiny puppy in my arms and said, “You’re not alone anymore. Baby and I will always be with you.”
But that promise had died long ago.
By the time I reached the slaughterhouse, the scent of iron and blood was already thick in the air.
A worker stepped into my path. “Ma’am, you can’t—”
“Was a Labrador brought in today?” I gasped, desperate.
Just then, the gate creaked open.
A cart rolled out, pushed by two men. It was slick with blood, piled with fur and bones. And lying at the top… was a golden coat I knew better than my own reflection.
Baby.
No.
My knees buckled. I crashed to the ground, the scream caught in my throat.
Everything went black.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back in a hospital room. The faint scent of disinfectant clung to the air.
Only this time… I wasn’t alone.
A broad figure sat beside the bed, awkwardly peeling an apple with trembling hands.
“Dad?” My voice was scratchy, raw.
He looked up. His eyes—usually so strong—were rimmed red and hollow with exhaustion.
“Carol…” His voice cracked. “Sweetheart, I had no idea things had gotten this bad.”
He shoved the apple into my hands like it was all he could offer—his own helpless apology wrapped in fruit.
“I begged you not to choose him,” he whispered, brushing his rough palm across my hair. “Even if our White Tree Tribe was struggling, I told you—Alpha Eddy wasn’t the one.”
I stared at the white hospital sheets, memories spilling into my mind like broken glass.
I remembered how Alpha Eddy took thirty lashes—one from each elder of the Red Tree and White Tree Tribes—just to win approval for our bond. His back had been a map of pain and blood. I’d sat at his side, dabbing ointment over his wounds while he smiled at me through the agony.
"Once I heal," he had whispered, "we’ll go to the Moon Goddess Temple. We’ll be bonded. You and me, forever."
But that promise—just like him—was a lie.
“We’re done,” I whispered now. “It’s over.”
I wasn’t sure if I was telling him… or reminding myself.
Dad pulled me into his arms. His embrace was firm, protective—the same way he held me as a child whenever I cried over skinned knees or scary dreams.
“It’s alright,” he murmured. “You’re coming home. I’m taking you home.”
And for the first time in years, I let myself fall into that safety.
The fear. The shame. The pain. I let it all go—for just a moment.
I slept.
And dreamed in peace.
When I woke, sunlight filtered gently through the blinds. The chair beside my bed was empty.
My heart sank, thinking Dad might’ve left.
Just as I was swinging my legs over the bed, my phone buzzed violently across the table.
I hesitated, dread curling in my gut.
Then I answered.
Alpha Eddy’s voice exploded through the line.
“Carol, don’t you dare go too far!”
