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~Hazel’s POV~
I’m pregnant.
A literal child is growing in .
And now... now I’m risking my life to protect it.
A truth I had only just learned minutes ago—and already it felt like a lifeti’s burden.
Is it worth it?
That question kept circling my mind like a vulture.
Two guards dragged by each arm toward the rooftop. My feet barely moved in rhythm as the cold air up there teased my skin before we’d even arrived. Behind walked the Gamma, Leon, silent as ever, and the witch who was oddly always by his side—Aurora. Her red hair glinted under the torchlight, her expression unreadable.
Caspian had tried to stop .
He’d fought, cursed, begged—but no. This wasn’t his battle. This was mine. Mine to bear. Mine to survive.
When we reached the rooftop, the wind was harsher, almost mocking. The guards didn’t say a word as the witch stepped forward and began removing my dress. My breath caught. I felt exposed—raw, inside and out. Leon turned away, standing outside the rooftop boundary like a sentry. I was about to be naked in front of everyone, and I understood now why he’d chosen to wait outside.
But as soon as the last layer of fabric was peeled from my skin, the tears began to fall. Silent at first, then heavier, like they carried everything I’d bottled up inside for years.
From down below, I heard a distant growl—deep, feral. Caspian.
They were holding him back. Holding him down. It must’ve taken at least four wolves to restrain him. I could feel his rage clawing at the walls, desperate to reach , to protect , to do sothing.
And then they brought out the whips.
My breath stopped. I knew that whip. I knew it.
The sa kind my father used on anyti I got caught stealing food—after he’d forced to skip breakfast or dinner. I didn’t get lunch. That wasn’t for "girls like ."
Every line of the whip. Every frayed strand. I could na each one by the scars they left.
One of the maids raised her hand high, whip ready. I closed my eyes, bracing myself for that familiar excruciating pain.
But instead of the crack of leather...
I heard a pained female growl.
My eyes flew open.
"Versa!"
Everyone was on the floor. Paralyzed. Arms frozen mid-air. Whips still in hand, suspended like dead snakes.
It was Aurora.
"he is the father," she said, breathless. Her chest heaved like she’d just run a marathon. "I’ve done the test. Alpha Cayden is the father."
My mouth dropped open. "I know... but why did you..."
My gaze moved to the frozen figures around us, the maid still clutching her weapon.
"I didn’t want them to do that to you," Aurora whispered. "You could die."
I blinked, stunned.
I had never expected kindness—let alone remorse—from the beautiful red-haired woman who always looked so distant and composed.
"If I don’t take this punishnt, I won’t be able to leave this place," I said, voice low, like a confession.
She looked at , eyes scanning my fra, seeing what no one else ever had—how fragile I really was.
"Your body can’t survive this..." she murmured. "You could die." Her voice cracked then. "I’m sorry. I can’t let you do this."
For a second, I saw her pain. Like she understood mine.
She helped dress gently, her hands soft against my bruised skin. Once I was fully clothed, she took my hand and led down from the rooftop.
As we reached the grand hall again, my nerves cracked. I tried to pull away, to bolt, to escape this never-ending spectacle. I couldn’t bear any more gasps or judgntal eyes or cruelty.
But she held firm. She nodded silently. Her grip on my hand grounded .
And then I saw him.
Cayden.
His eyes scanned the mont I stepped into the room, scanning my face, my arms, my legs—as if searching for injury. His shoulders dropped ever so slightly when he didn’t find any.
I wasn’t sure if it was a groan of frustration or a sigh of relief—but it was sothing. Sothing real.
Caspian was still being held down by four wolves, but the mont he saw —clothed, unhard—he let out a guttural growl and shoved them off with a wild force.
He ran to , gathered in his arms, holding like I was made of glass.
His chest was hamring. I could hear his heartbeat, even as a human. That’s how fast it was racing.
"Alpha Cayden, you are the father," Aurora announced to the entire room.
Cayden didn’t say a word. He just... stared. Still, silent, eyes locked on like I was so puzzle he couldn’t solve.
"And how are you sure about that?" Forr Luna’s voice barked from the balcony, thick with rage. "You were supposed to punish her—not... all this."
Aurora lifted her head calmly. "I took the test. While undressing her, I took a small fraction of her blood."
She pointed to my shoulder. I turned and saw the faintest mark—sothing I hadn’t even noticed.
"I already had the Alpha’s blood," she continued. "I did the match. His blood synced perfectly with the child’s."
A heavy silence followed.
Then Caspian’s voice rang out. "I told you. He is the father."
All eyes turned to Cayden. He stared at the floor for a mont. Then he lifted his head.
He nodded once. "Good."
His eyes flicked to again—and sothing flashed across them. I couldn’t tell what it was. Pain? Regret? Possession?
Then he turned to Caspian. "Take her to your chambers. Hold her there. Let no harm co to her."
His voice was ice.
He turned to Leon next. "So enemies are lurking. We need to take them out."
Leon followed without question. Within seconds, the hall emptied. Even my family was gone. I scanned the crowd.
No Ariel.
"Where is she?" I asked quietly.
Marcus turned as he passed , scowling. And then he left with the rest of the Gilberts, their footsteps echoing until the room fell silent.
Now it was just , Caspian, and the witch.
I turned to her. "Thank you..." I whispered.
She nodded. "Aurora," she said softly, offering her hand.
"Hazel."
I took her hand and the mont I did, a sharp flash like a vision surged through my head.
A little girl.
Red hair. Crying.
She was in the middle of a forest clearing, surrounded by horses—wild, stampeding, and terrifying. She was screaming, alone.
I let go instantly, gasping, a splitting headache crashing into .
Aurora smiled faintly, knowingly. She didn’t say anything else as she turned and left.
Then Caspian scooped up into his arms, bridal style.
"Let’s go, wife,"
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