I could see the hate, the anger, in the eyes of the pack members. They all had one wish in their eyes, and that was punishment—for me to be punished for a crime I didn't even commit.
It was strange, so strange.
All I did was shove Anita out of my way when she refused to let me pass. It wasn't even a hard push, nothing that would send someone to the ground. But Anita threw herself to the floor, and she hit her stomach on the arm of a chair.
That was how it happened.
The next thing I saw was blood trailing down her thighs. And now, I just heard she was pregnant—but lost the pregnancy just like that? How?
My mother stepped forward, pressing her palms together in a pleading gesture as she faced the triplets. "I beg of you, believe me—Olivia didn't push her that hard. She didn't even know Anita was pregnant," she said, her voice trembling with desperation.
"Really?" Anita's mother strode forward, eyes burning with anger. "Are you saying my daughter threw herself to the floor? That she caused her own miscarriage?"
Mother's expression darkened. "We are both mothers. We have carried children in our wombs. You know as well as I do that a simple fall like that cannot cause a miscarriage."
Lennox growled at my mother, his patience thinning. "What are you saying?" he asked, irritation clear in his voice.
Mother turned to him, her frown deepening. "What I am saying is that such a light fall shouldn't have caused a miscarriage. Something else caused this miscarriage, not my daughter."
A wave of anger surged through the crowd.
"How dare you!" one woman hissed, stepping forward. "Are you calling Lady Anita a liar?"
"She's blaming the victim!" another man snarled. "How shameless!"
"Your daughter pushed a pregnant woman!" someone shouted. "And now she's trying to deny it?"
"You should be ashamed!" an elder spat at my mother. "Your daughter is nothing but a murderer!"
"She should be punished!" another voice called from the back.
"Lock her up!" an elder demanded.
"Throw her in the cells where she belongs!" another snarled.
The crowd grew more restless, their voices rising in anger, their faces twisted with rage and disgust. My mother tried to speak, but no one would listen. The insults continued to pour in, a storm of hatred crashing down on us.
These were people who once adored us, people my mother had treated while working in the pack hospital, people my father fought for, protected, and today, they were all screaming for me to be punished, punished for a crime I didn't commit.
"Enough!" Levi's voice boomed through the hall, silencing the pack. His eyes were dark, filled with restrained anger.
Lennox's jaw was clenched, and Louis stood with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But I could see the way his fingers tightened over his biceps, as if holding himself back.
Louis turned to the guards standing by the entrance. "Take her to the cells."
My breath caught in my throat. "What?"
The murmurs in the crowd turned into cheers of approval.
"You can't do this!" My mother gasped, stepping forward. "You know my daughter isn't at fault!"
"We will investigate," Lennox said coldly. "Until then, Olivia will remain in the cells."
The guards moved toward me. I took a step back, my heart pounding against my ribs. "No—"
Rough hands grabbed my arms, yanking me forward.
"Mother!" I cried, my voice breaking.
She rushed toward me, but a warrior stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
"Let her go!" she screamed, desperation in her voice.
"Take her away," Louis ordered.
The guards dragged me toward the exit, their grips like iron. My mother's cries echoed behind me as she struggled to get to me.
As I was being taken to the cell, my wolf growled inside me, urging me to shift into her and tear this guard apart, but I chose not to do it. I was already in big trouble; attacking the guards would worsen my situation.
The guards dragged me down the hallway. My wolf growled inside me, begging me to fight back.
"Let me out. Let me tear them apart." She urged.
Fighting would only make things worse.
We reached the underground prison beneath the pack house. It was cold, damp, and smelled like mold. One of the guards yanked open a heavy iron door, and before I could react, they shoved me inside.
I stumbled forward but caught myself before hitting the filthy stone floor.
The cell door slammed shut behind me.
Laughter echoed from the corner.
I turned and saw a woman sitting on a small cot, smirking at me. She leaned forward, her eyes filled with amusement.
"Well, well, well," she said. "Look who it is."
I didn't reply. My heart was still racing.
"Isn't that Olivia?" she mocked. "Our dear Luna?"
More laughter came from the nearby cells.
"The mighty Luna," someone sneered. "Locked up like a common criminal. How sad."
The woman in my cell grinned. "So, what did you do? Kill someone? Betray the pack?" She asked, tilting her head.
I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay quiet.
I wouldn't let them see how much this hurt.
How much it hurt that my pack had done this to me.
That my mates had thrown me in here without a second thought.
The woman sighed. "Oh, ignoring me? That's fine. You're stuck here now. Might as well get comfortable."
I turned my back to her, closing my eyes.
This was never how I imagined my life—to be accused and thrown into a cell, and my mates, the same men the Moon Goddess deemed fit to be my mates, sent me here without a second thought.
For hours, I remained on the cold floor of the cell, my mind blank. My three other cellmates kept taunting me, but I ignored them and remained where I sat.
Hours passed, and it was night. The guards came with four plates of food and shoved each to us. It was an unhealthy meal, but the three other women picked theirs up and began eating. Mine was left untouched.
"Dear Luna, aren't you eating? Or do you want us to set a table for you?" one of the prisoners, a lady in her early thirties, teased.
I sighed. "You can have it, I'm not hungry," I said, and immediately, the three women rushed to the plate of food and began fighting each other for it.
I curled up in the corner of my cell, shutting my eyes against the dim flickering light from the hallway. The cold seeped into my bones, but I didn't move. My stomach twisted in hunger, but I still couldn't bring myself to eat.
The sounds of the other women fighting over the food slowly died down, replaced by their quiet murmurs. Time dragged on. I didn't know how many hours passed, only that my body ached from the hard floor.
Then, footsteps echoed in the corridor.
I lifted my head slightly as the iron door creaked open. Three guards stepped in, their faces shadowed under the dim light. The other women in my cell immediately perked up, their taunts and hostility toward me vanishing in an instant.
One of the guards, a tall man with a scar running down his cheek, leaned against the bars. "Missed us?" he said, smirking at the women in my cell.
The one who had mocked me earlier—Marla, I thought her name was—stood and stretched, arching her back like a cat. "You took too long," she purred, walking toward him.
The other two women giggled, moving to their own guards.
But before I understood what was happening, the guards started kissing the ladies, and the ladies responded eagerly.
I scowled. "What the hell is going on here?"
Marla turned and looked my way with a grin. "Sit tight, Luna, and enjoy the scene, or you can as well go to sleep." She smirked and went down on her knees, beginning to unbuckle the guard's belt.