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After My Husband Took My Eyes, I Fled Novel Cover

After My Husband Took My Eyes, I Fled

Pain. That was all I knew as consciousness crept back into my world of darkness. My head throbbed with a dull ache that seemed to pulse in time with my heartbeat. I reached out instinctively, searching for Jonathan's warmth beside me, but my fingers found only cold sheets. Three days. It had been three days since the rogue attack that had stolen my sight. Three days of drifting in and out of consciousness, of Jonathan's gentle reassurances that everything would be okay, that we would get through this together. I pushed myself up, wincing as pain shot through my body. Something felt wrong. Different.
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Chapter 2

The tray slipped from my fingers, crashing to the floor with a sound that echoed my shattering world. Tea splashed across the hardwood, staining the expensive rug Jonathan had brought back from a neighboring territory as a gift for our second anniversary.

"You took my eyes?" I repeated, my voice stronger now, rising with the horror of my realization.

Silence answered me. Then Jonathan's footsteps approached, measured and calm as always.

"Clean this up," he ordered, his tone so casual he might have been commenting on the weather. "And be more careful next time."

I felt a small hand brush against mine—the child, Jonathan's daughter with Victoria—and jerked away as if burned. The touch of the girl who now saw the world through my stolen eyes was more than I could bear.

"Don't touch the broken pieces, Elara," Victoria said sharply. "Let the Omega handle it."

Omega. The lowest rank. From Luna to Omega in three days.

I knelt, feeling for the broken shards with trembling fingers, cutting myself in the process. Blood mingled with tea on the floor as I gathered the pieces, each one a fragment of the life that had been stolen from me.

Later, alone in my bare servant's quarters, I sat on the edge of the thin mattress, cradling my bandaged hands. The room was cold, stripped of any comfort or dignity. Just like me.

*Are you there?* I called silently into the void where my wolf had once lived. *Please... answer me.*

Only silence greeted me. A profound, crushing silence that confirmed what I'd suspected since waking in darkness—my wolf was gone. Not just dormant or weakened, but completely severed from me. The sacred bond that defined a werewolf's very existence had been cut as surely as my eyes had been taken.

Tears slid down my cheeks, but I made no sound. I couldn't risk Jonathan or Victoria hearing my breakdown. I needed to think, to understand, to find a way out of this nightmare.

I stood carefully, extending my arms to feel the dimensions of my prison. Seven steps from the bed to the door. Three steps across. A small dresser with two drawers containing the plain clothes of an Omega. A sink in the corner with a cracked mirror I would never see again.

Moving to the door, I pressed my ear against it, listening for any movement in the hallway beyond. Hearing nothing, I opened it slowly, wincing at the slight creak of hinges that needed oiling.

The hallway stretched before me, a path I would need to memorize if I had any hope of navigating this new, dark existence. I counted steps, trailing my fingertips along the wall, mapping every doorway, every corner, every obstacle in my path.

Twenty-three steps to the main staircase. Fourteen steps down. A right turn, then thirty-seven steps to the kitchen. From the kitchen, nineteen steps to the dining room. Twenty-six to the main room where I'd dropped the tea service.

I continued my silent exploration, building a mental map of the pack house that had once been my home, now my prison. Each room held memories—Jonathan's study where he'd first told me he loved me, the sunroom where we'd spent lazy Sunday mornings, the garden terrace where he'd asked me to be his mate. All lies. Every moment, every touch, every whispered promise—calculated deception.

As I rounded a corner near Jonathan's study, voices drifted through the partially open door. I froze, pressing myself against the wall beside a heavy tapestry depicting the Shadowmere Pack's founding.

"The Moon Goddess ceremony is in three days," Jonathan was saying. "All pack leaders are expected to attend."

"Will you take *her*?" The voice belonged to Garrett, Jonathan's Beta, his tone dripping with disdain when referring to me.

"No," Jonathan replied firmly. "Victoria and Elara will accompany me to the neutral territory. The Omega stays here."

"And if she tries to escape while you're gone?" Garrett asked.

Jonathan's chuckle sent ice through my veins. "She won't get far. Blind, wolfless, and completely alone—where would she go?"

I pressed a hand to my mouth to stifle my breathing. Three days. The Moon Goddess ceremony would be held on neutral territory—ground where no single Alpha's power ruled supreme. If I could somehow convince Jonathan to take me along, it might be my only chance to escape this nightmare.

But first, I needed to survive until then. And somehow, I needed to make Jonathan believe I had accepted my fate.

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