Chapter3

The car door flew open with a violent slam, and Alaric and Morwen leaped out.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Alaric roared.

The protective she-wolves shrank back half a step, yielding to the suffocating aura of a pack elder. He shoved heavily through their outer circle without breaking a sweat, grabbed Kael by the collar, and drew his right fist back. "You dare lay a hand on my daughter?!"

Facing his father-in-law's absolute fury, Kael didn't even flinch. He merely offered a cold, derisive smirk and slammed a crumpled piece of parchment flat against Alaric's chest.

"See for yourself."

Alaric unfolded the paper. I stared intently at his face. The second his gaze hit the blood-red rune at the very bottom, the color entirely drained from his eyes, replaced by a dead, ashen gray. Then, he whipped around.

Crack!

A heavy, merciless slap sent me crashing to the ground.

The she-wolves around us let out gasps of shock; a few even dropped into a low crouch, baring their fangs at him.

"Kael wanted to give you a silver-toxin cleanse, and it's for your own good!" Alaric's finger trembled violently as he pointed at me.

Morwen rushed up from behind. "What is going on?" She reached out to snatch the parchment from her husband's hands.

I scrambled forward, practically crawling, and threw my arms around Morwen's calves. Jagged gravel sliced into my knees.

"Mom..." I looked up at her. "Please, don't look. He's lying. He said the pup is a stillborn, and he wants to kill my baby..."

Morwen hauled me to my feet, snatched the parchment, and let her eyes dart across the blood-red rune at the bottom. It only took one second.

Her lips twitched violently, and somehow, she forced out a sickening smile that looked worse than a hysterical sobbing fit.

"It's fine, Leora," she said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Her nails dug viciously into my flesh. "The baby is fine. You're just overthinking things. Come on, let's go home with Mom."

The "home" from my past life was a damp, moldy darkroom, filled with nothing but desperate cries for help and the heavy panting of rutting beasts.

"No!"

Using every last ounce of my strength, I violently shoved her hand away. I spun around and stumbled blindly toward the street.

Barely ten meters away, I spotted a Council patrol car parked at the corner. A Council Enforcer in a crisp black uniform had just stepped out, likely drawn by the howling to investigate the situation. Like a drowning woman catching a lifeline, I threw myself at him, dropping to my knees right at his feet.

"Help me..." I gasped out, my chest heaving. "They're going to illegally execute my pup!"

The Enforcer glanced down at me, his hand instantly dropping to rest on the silver baton at his hip. He lifted his head, his cold gaze sweeping over the approaching Alaric and Morwen. "What is going on here? Vigilante justice and unauthorized executions are strictly forbidden within Shadowmoon territory."

"This is a family matter, officer," Alaric said, stepping forward briskly. "No one is administering any private execution."

Morwen trailed right behind him, her expression a mask of absolute heartbreak. "Sir, we are so sorry to have disturbed you. My daughter has suffered a psychotic break due to her pregnancy. We were just about to take her back for mandatory treatment."

"A psychotic break?" The Enforcer arched an eyebrow. His sharp gaze darted between Kael, who was watching with cold indifference, and my frantic parents. "Since there's a dispute, we'll pull the security footage. I want to see exactly what you're all causing a scene about. And—" He pointed directly at the crumpled paper clutched tightly in Alaric's grip. "What is that?"

"It's just scrap paper, totally irrelevant to the situation—" Alaric instinctively tried to hide it behind his back.

But before he could even move, the Enforcer closed the distance, snatching the parchment from Alaric's hand with lightning speed. The Council only recognized law and hard evidence; they couldn't care less about an Alpha's bruised ego.

The Enforcer's eyes scanned downward. The very second he registered the contents, his brows knit into a tight, hard knot.

"Officer," I said, using his leg for support as I slowly pushed myself up to a stand. I stared fixedly at that fatal piece of paper—the very paper I had failed to read even after living two lifetimes. "That is my prenatal medical report. I have the right to review it. Please hand it back to me."

The Enforcer looked at me. His gaze was impossibly complex: a mixture of profound shock, sheer absurdity, and a blatant, unmistakable trace of defensive disgust.

He hesitated, but ultimately, he handed the parchment over to me.

I took it, my eyes locking instantly with the bottom of the page. There, stamped right over that glaring, dark-red blood rune, were three distinct lines of text.