Before I could respond, she turned.
And then, with a small, deliberate motion, she tipped her wineglass.
Deep red liquid splashed down the front of her gown. The glass slipped from her fingers, shattering against the marble floor.
Gasps filled the room as Maureen stumbled backward, her voice breaking into a perfect, practiced sob.
“Oh my goddess, please don’t!” she whimpered, her eyes wide with feigned terror. “Why would you do this to me?”
Silence.
Then all eyes turned to me.
“I—” My voice caught in my throat, panic surging.
“Avery!”
Harland’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and accusing. He was by Maureen’s side in an instant, his face contorted with fury.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I didn’t—” I started, my heart hammering.
“How could you?” Alpha Garry’s voice thundered. “You took a life that was never yours, and now you can’t even let your sister have her moment?”
“She’s not my sister!” The words tore from my throat before I could stop them.
A sharp crack rang through the air.
Harland’s hand met my cheek before I even saw it coming.
A sharp sting spread across my skin, the force of the slap making me stumble. I reached up, pressing trembling fingers to my burning cheek, my vision blurring with tears.
And as the room spun around me, as whispers filled the space like a suffocating fog, my hand drifted to my stomach—where no one knew yet.
Where our child—my child—was growing.
Avery's POV
The sharp crack of Harland’s palm against my cheek reverberated through the room, freezing me in place. For a moment, the world lost its shape—the murmurs of the crowd faded into nothing, and all I could process was the searing pain spreading across my skin. But the sting wasn’t just physical. It was the cold, merciless look in his eyes that cut deeper than any slap ever could. The man I had once trusted, the man for whom I had given up everything, had just struck me as if I were nothing. Not his Luna. Not his mate. Just something disposable.
Tears burned the back of my eyes, but I swallowed them down. I refused to break in front of him. I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble. But the weight in my chest was unbearable—months, years of silent suffering pressing down on me, suffocating me.
“Avery!” Harland’s voice snapped through the silence like a whip, sharp and full of accusation. “What the hell is wrong with you?”