Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Alicia, Ethan's loyal butler, stayed behind and took care of me the entire time. She made sure I ate well, monitored my health, and ensured I had everything I needed for the pregnancy. Still, every single day, I prayed for the pack's safe return. I spent hours staring out the window at the dark woods, wondering if I would ever see Ethan alive again.
Then, the night finally came.
The mansion downstairs suddenly erupted, shattering the months of silence with the roaring sound of laughter and clinking glasses. Ethan and his friends had just come back alive from the White Wolves’ territory. They had won the brutal battle against his uncle, defeating Damian once and for all, and now they were celebrating their hard-earned victory.
But up in the silence of the master bedroom, I couldn't bring myself to join them.
I sat on the edge of the bed, resting my palms over the large, heavy swell of my stomach. Inside my womb, the baby gave a sudden, restless kick. Ethan had promised to stand as the father of my child to protect me from the world, but as I listened to the wild cheering downstairs, everything still felt so uncertain. I had stayed behind in this mansion to take care of myself and my pregnancy while they went to war. They had won their battle, but my own fight was far from over.
Suddenly, the bedroom door flew open.
The air in the room instantly turned freezing cold, and a heavy, suffocating pressure filled the space, stealing the breath from my lungs. I scrambled to my feet, my heart pounding violently against my ribs as Aaron stepped inside.
My breath hitched. It was Aaron—but it wasn’t the man I loved. His eyes were completely vacant, swallowed by a terrifying, pitch-black darkness. He was heavily intoxicated by his father’s dark magic, his body moving with a stiff, unnatural fury. In his right hand, he held a sharp silver blade that gleamed under the dim lights of the bedroom. He didn't say a word. He just locked his dead gaze onto me and started walking forward.
"Aaron, please listen to me," I begged, backing away until the frame of the bed hit the back of my legs. Tears rushed down my face, blurring my vision. "You can't kill me. I'm bearing our child in my womb. You're its father! If you kill me tonight, you're ending everything between us. There will be nothing left."
For a split second, Aaron stopped. The blade trembled in his hand. A flash of agonizing pain crossed his features, like the real Aaron was desperately screaming to break through the surface of his own mind. But the dark curse surged back, drowning him. His expression went completely blank again, and he raised the knife, lunging straight for my chest.
"Tricia!"
Ethan burst through the door just in time. He tackled Aaron to the ground, the impact shaking the floorboards before the blade could touch me. The room became a chaotic blur of snarling, shouting, and desperate struggling. Aaron fought back with an unnatural, monstrous strength, entirely blinded by his father's magic. With a violent thrust, he broke free from Ethan's grip, scrambled to his feet, and went for me again.
Ethan had no choice. To save my life and the innocent child inside me, he moved in with lethal speed. He killed Aaron right in front of my eyes.
When Aaron’s body finally went limp and hit the floor, the silence in the room was deafening.
It took me decades to move on from what happened that night.
We never went to attack the Bone Reavers' territory after that. Instead, we chose exile, deciding to leave the past behind and try to forget everything. Alpha William never came to look for us. He didn't even care to search for his granddaughter, Diana. He could never accept me anyway, because I was the one who had taken the life of his wife, Luna Asfara.
So, Ethan raised my daughter like she was his very own blood. He did everything in his power to give her a normal, peaceful life, trying to build a fortress out of ordinary days to make us forget the tragedy of our past.
But forgetting is a luxury we don't have.
Every single time I look at Diana’s face, I am forcefully reminded of my worst mistakes. I see Aaron in the shape of her jaw. I see Luna Asfara, the grandmother she will never know, in the color of her eyes.
Lately, Diana has been getting incredibly inquisitive about our family. She asks questions I don't know how to answer, hunting for a history that doesn't exist. I want to hide the truth from her forever. I want her to keep believing that Ethan is her real father, and that our life has always been this quiet.
But deep down, I know the terrifying truth: no secrets can stay buried forever. Eventually, the blood will whisper, and the truth will come out.
When that day finally comes, I can only hope and pray that my daughter will find it in her heart to forgive me for killing her grandmother—and forgive Ethan for ripping the life out of her real father.
Because if she can't... the cycle of blood will begin all over again, and none of us will survive it.