Chapter 5 5

Aurélie POV

My eyes flutter open to a ceiling I don’t recognize. The sterile white above me doesn’t belong to home. For a heartbeat, everything is disoriented and silent, and then the memory crashes over me like a wave falling down the stairs… no, not falling. Being dragged. Geneviève’s hand yanking me down into that spiral of pain.

Where is Damien? Why isn’t he here?

My gaze sweeps the room, panic coiling tight in my chest. Fabrice stands at the foot of my bed, eyes locked on his laptop, fingers moving in quiet, controlled rhythm.

“Fabrice, where is Damien?” My voice cracks despite my effort to hold it steady. I search the corners of the room, even turn toward the window as though I might find him standing just beyond it close enough to have been here the moment I opened my eyes.

He looks up, his tone soft but evasive. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

Be here soon. The words lodge like glass under my ribs. He hasn’t been. Not yet. Not at all. My heart sinks beneath the weight of that simple truth. He’s with her. The woman who endangered our child. The woman trying to claim what’s mine.

“He hasn’t visited… has he?” I already know the answer before the silence fills it.

Fabrice’s eyes flicker with sympathy. “No. Not yet.”

The door slams open.

Damien strides in, and the atmosphere thickens like smoke. Rage clings to him, an invisible storm pressing down on the walls until even the air strains to move. The door rebounds off the wall with a sharp crack behind him.

“You’re awake,” he growls, stalking toward me like a predator scenting weakness. “Any damage?”

“Some bruising…” Fabrice begins, but Damien cuts him off with a venomous look.

“She looks fine to me. Geneviève, on the other hand, is still in pain.” His voice is cold, edged like a blade.

I freeze. Of course. Even now, he defends her.

“Why did you do it, Aurélie? Geneviève told me everything.”

My heart clenches. “What has she told you?”

He steps closer, his shadow falling across me. “She said you flew into a jealous rage when she reminded you of our past. That she tried to calm you down, but you wouldn’t listen. That when she tried to leave, you followed her to the stairs, pushed her, and she grabbed you to stop herself. She could have died, Aurélie. And you know better than anyone a Luna isn’t above my pack laws.”

His belief in her poisonous little lie is a knife twisted slow.

“So you think I pushed Geneviève down the stairs?”

“I think jealousy got the better of you,” he replies, eyes narrowing. “I don’t believe you truly meant for it to happen… but trust me, it won’t happen again.” His voice is colder than the walls that cage me in.

Tears burn behind my eyes not just mine, but the ache of the child inside me, silent and fragile.

Fabrice’s voice slices through the tension, steady but edged. “You believe Geneviève over your own wife? You think Aurélie would willingly endanger her own baby?”

Damien freezes. “What?” The word rips from him, raw.

“You’re pregnant?” he breathes. He takes a step forward, reaching for me, but I pull away from his touch as though it burns.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I whisper, though it matters more than anything.

“What do you mean?”

I close my eyes and reach for Fabrice through the mind-link, the words tasting like blood in my mouth. You will tell him I’ve lost the baby.

“Aurélie…” he protests.

“Do it.” My mental voice is steel.

When I open my eyes, Damien is watching me with panic flickering beneath his fury.

“The baby didn’t survive the fall,” Fabrice says softly.

The world tilts. His rage explodes like a storm unchained. His aura floods the room thick, choking, feral. A roar rips from his throat as he tears the room apart: a chair crashes through the window, the medicine cabinet shatters, machines fall to the floor.

And then he turns on me.

“If you hadn’t been jealous of Geneviève, none of this would’ve happened! She just needed a place to stay. Why couldn’t you see that? Why couldn’t you like her? If you hadn’t been so damn stupid, the baby would be alive!”

Fabrice snaps. His beta instincts override his medical calm. He lunges, hand at Damien’s throat, shoving the Alpha King against the wall, his canines descending in a warning snarl.

“Fabrice!” I cry, stumbling from the bed. I tear him off Damien and face my husband with my fury shaking through my bones.

“You need to leave. Go to Geneviève. That’s what you want, isn’t it? You’ve already chosen her. Just go.”

Through the mind-link, Fabrice pushes back. Tell him the truth.

I sever the link, turning my back on them both. If I open my mouth again, I’ll shatter. Damien mutters something about me resting, then walks out, leaving the room colder than before.

“Why didn’t you tell him the truth?” Fabrice whispers once we’re alone.

“Which truth?” My voice cracks, tears burning down my cheeks. “He already made his choice. He’ll never believe me.”

The next day, Fabrice checks me out under the condition of bed rest at the Alpha mansion. But I don’t leave my room.

Geneviève is out of the hospital too. Her voice carries through the house, ordering the staff around, laughing at every meal with Damien, most likely sitting in my place. Every giggle is a needle meant for me.

Élodie and Denise bring food to my door, trying to coax me to eat. Fabrice visits daily, making sure I at least drink something, chew a crust of bread.

“Aurélie, you need to eat,” he whispers one afternoon. Élodie hovers nearby, folding freshly laundered clothes. When he leaves, she perches at the edge of the bed, eyes full of worry.

“You need to come downstairs, Luna. Geneviève is always with the Alpha. You need to fight for him.”

Her words are meant to be encouraging. Instead, they splinter me further. I wrap my arms around my stomach, holding what’s already gone.

Days blur until Élodie bursts into my room, her face pale as death.

“Luna,” she pants, “the Alpha and Fabrice are fighting in the courtyard. You need to come now.”

I don’t hesitate. Bare feet hit cold floors as I run down the stairs.

Outside, Fabrice is on the ground, blood smeared at the corner of his mouth, one eye swelling. Damien stands over him, fists clenched, Geneviève at his side like a coiled viper whispering venom into his ear.

“He’s bleeding!” I snarl, stepping between them.

“You slut,” Damien spits, voice full of poison. “Who knows what you two have been doing behind my back?”

The crowd gathers staff, pack members watching their Alpha unravel. Fabrice pushes himself up, fury burning in his eyes. He moves to strike, but I grab him, pulling him back just as Damien shifts, fur ripping through his skin mid-snarling lunge.

I step in front of Fabrice, shielding him from the wolf’s snapping jaws.

“What do you mean?” I demand when Damien shifts back, Geneviève’s hungry gaze raking over his body.

He turns away with a bitter laugh. “Isn’t it obvious? Fabrice was the only one who knew you were pregnant. Maybe Geneviève was right. Maybe that baby wasn’t…” He can’t even finish the word mine.

Something inside me breaks. My scream rips the air apart, raw and animal.

“Geneviève says jump, and you ask how high! We were fine two years without a crack until she returned. And now you’re blind to the monster she is!”

Fabrice steps forward again, ready to challenge, but Damien’s snarl cuts him down.

“Fabrice, your services are no longer required,” Damien commands, Alpha power thick in the air.

Rage floods my veins like fire.

“If you banish Fabrice,” I say, voice steady with a strength I didn’t know I still possessed, “then you’ll have to banish me too.”

His storm-blue eyes snap to mine. “What did you just say?”