The Lycan King's Secret Deal with the Broken Omega

Seraphina POV The harsh, stinging scent of bleach and rubbing alcohol dragged me back to consciousness. There was no damp earth, no pine, no comforting warmth of a Pack House. Only the sterile, lifeless hum of a heart monitor and the blinding glare of fluorescent lights. I tried to move, but a sharp, tearing agony ripped through my abdomen. I gasped, my hand instinctively flying to my stomach. It was flat. The subtle, warm flutter of life I had clung to was gone. "Miss Harmon?" A woman in a white coat stepped into my line of sight. Her human eyes were soft with a practiced, clinical sympathy. "I'm Dr. Evans. You were brought in by a passing motorist. You suffered severe blunt force trauma to your abdomen." She paused, her voice dropping. "I am so incredibly sorry. We couldn't save the pregnancy. The embryo was only about five to six weeks, but the damage was... complete." The words hung in the air, suffocating me. I stared at the ceiling, the white tiles blurring as the memory of the dark woods crashed over me. That little mongrel in your belly will never draw breath on Blackwood land. Genevieve’s venomous whisper echoed in my ears, perfectly synchronized with the heavy thud of the Rogue’s boot. That's the point. A violent shudder wracked my broken body. This wasn't a random tragedy. It was an execution. Genevieve Blackwood had orchestrated the entire thing, and Isabelle Pruitt had handed her the knife by destroying my credibility. They had murdered my baby. "Miss Harmon, the police are here," Dr. Evans said gently. "They need to ask you a few questions." Two human officers stepped into the room, their expressions grim. "Miss Harmon, your injuries suggest a targeted assault. Nothing was stolen. Do you know who did this? Do you have any enemies?" Genevieve’s name burned on my tongue. But as I looked at the officers, reality settled over me like a shroud of ice. How could I explain a wolfless Omega, a hired Rogue, and a ruthless Luna? To them, Kael Blackwood was a respected billionaire CEO, a pillar of human society. One phone call from him, and I would be locked in a psychiatric ward for the rest of my life. Human law could not touch the monsters of my world. "No," I whispered, my voice hoarse and dead. "It was dark. He wore a mask. Just a random lunatic." The officers exchanged a frustrated look, took their notes, and left. By lying to them, I had chosen my path. There would be no human justice. I would have to survive, and I would have to make them bleed on my own terms. Yet, beneath the boiling hatred, a pathetic, bleeding fragment of my severed mate-bond still twitched. A foolish, desperate part of my soul screamed that if Kael only knew the truth—if he knew his child was dead—the Alpha who once swore to protect me would wake up from his mother's manipulation. "Excuse me," I croaked to the nurse. "Do you know if my personal belongings came with me? My phone?" She nodded and retrieved a small plastic bag from a drawer. Inside was my battered phone—screen cracked, but still alive. Kael hadn't even bothered to take it from me. He probably wanted me to remember every hateful comment online. I powered it on. My fingers trembled violently as I opened the messaging app and typed in the private number I knew by heart. I was attacked. I'm in the hospital. The baby... our baby is gone. I hit send. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of agonizing hope. Minutes bled into one another. I stared at the screen, praying to a Goddess I no longer believed in. The phone buzzed. My breath hitched. I opened the message, my eyes scanning the glowing text. Stop the lies, Seraphina. I don't care about your games. You are dead to me. The phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering onto the thin hospital blanket.