The thing I regretted most was taking that last diet pill. It took my baby—followed by my life.
Yet I wasn't fat by any standard.
The source of my diet pill abuse: my husband and Alpha of the Nightcrest Pack, Noah.
He was also the direct cause of my death.
As the daughter of the Silvermoon Pack, I married Noah through a political marriage, but it was never me that he wanted.
When Noah's ex-girlfriend, Zoe, re-entered our lives, my world fell apart.
Zoe was once Noah's fated mate, but Zoe rejected Noah and married the Alpha of another pack. When that marriage ended in divorce, she returned to the Nightcrest Pack.
To make matters worse, Noah and Zoe were once media darlings and the public's golden couple.
I became the unwilling target of paparazzi who relentlessly chased me and captured every moment of my life. Despite my best efforts at privacy, the constant attention and scrutiny made me increasingly neurotic.
Noah never explained to the public what was going on. While he continued to present the perfect public image, I suffered in silence, unable to defend myself. To make matters worse, he left me more alone than ever.
No matter what I did, I couldn't get his attention. No matter how much makeup I wore, no matter how much weight I lost, I wasn't good enough. I thought it was my fault.
This drove me even deeper into the abyss.
Too many diet pills left me gasping for air, like a knife through my abdomen.
That was when I realized I was pregnant. My thinness had hidden the prominence of my belly. The chronic irregularity of my periods had added to my lack of suspicion. When the doctors came to rescue me and the little life inside me, it was too late.
"This fetus is 4 months old."
Those were the last words I heard.
On an endless, moonless night, I lost my baby and my life.
......
I woke up to the sound of dripping water. My side rested against cool marble. I groaned and stood up, only to realize I was in my bedroom’s humid en suite bathroom.
Where am I? I thought as I stood. Wasn’t I just dead?
"Ma'am, you look perfect," my makeup artist said as she entered the bathroom.
Looking down, I realized that I had been dressed in pink, lacy, see-through babydoll lingerie. My golden locks had been tamed into loose curls, and my nails had been polished into crimson claws. My groin ached with the pain of a recent bikini wax, and my face was made up like a Hollywood starlet.
"Alpha Noah is already in the shower, and I've got a scent for you. Trust me, it's an aphrodisiac."
She winked at me playfully before setting the perfume on the counter.
I trembled. All the evidence points to the same cause.
Dear Goddess, I thought, our monthly mating day.
After our politically charged marriage, Noah set aside one day a month for us to procreate in an attempt to continue the legacy of the Nightcrest Pack. It was the only time Noah paid so much attention to me, no matter how hard I tried to impress him. However, this month's mating day had come and gone, and the past three intimacy days had proven even more futile after Zoe returned to the Pack.
Why am I dressed like this? Unless...
I stuck my head out the door.
"What day is it?" I asked my makeup artist.
"The third of September,” she replied, looking a little surprise. "Luna, did you forget? Tomorrow is the acceptance ceremony."
The day before Zoe’s return.
My life was taken back to before my tragedy happened? How could this be?
Moments before, it was December. I was lying on the floor in excruciating pain, diet pills in one hand and tears streaming down my cheeks. My heir lay at my feet, a bloody four-month-old embryo that I had no idea about…
I paled. Oh, Goddess. My baby.
I rushed to the mirror and wiped the steam off. Lifting up my lingerie, I stroked my emaciated stomach. Nothing seemed to be off, but I had also been too skinny for even me to know that I was pregnant in the first place, so I was cautious to declare myself out of the woods just yet.
Still, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. There was no pain, no blood, so maybe there was hope. Maybe, just maybe, a miracle had occurred.
If this truly was the day that I thought it was, then I was only one month pregnant with Noah’s child. I still had time to do what was right by my child. I still had time to do right by me.
So much had not happened yet that did not need to happen now. I could take charge of my life, change everything that I had lost control over the past several months.
I bit my bottom lip.
No. I would not let that happen again.
I had been reborn to this time for a reason. The Moon Goddess had given me a second chance, and I was going to use it to save myself and my child from a man who did not love us.
Tears sprung to my eyes once more, leaving trails down my foundation-caked face. I covered my lips with one hand and tried to contain the joy that I felt bubbling up inside of me.
“There’s still time,” I whispered to myself.
I just needed to cut the toxic elements out of my life.
Not feet from me—though it sounded like it was miles away—the shower turned off, and Noah stepped out. He grabbed a towel and began to wipe himself off.
“Let’s get this over with. Are you ready?” his deep voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
I looked up into the mirror to find Noah standing a couple feet behind me, his enormous package completely exposed. His toned abs and lean muscular arms shined as water rippled down his body, and his black, slicked-back hair appeared soft to the touch. White teeth glistened as he sneered, and his dark eyes were hooded with almost boredom.
Deep in the pit of my stomach, a small spark lit. Even with his lack of interest in me, he had a way of turning me on. He always had.
Part of me was still head-over-heels for my husband’s effortless charm and good looks, just like the day we met, and desperately wanted him to love me back. This part of me screamed for me to abandon all dignity and jump this man before he changed his mind. I hated this part of me, wanted to shove it deep into the recesses of my mind and never have access to it again.
A bigger part of me could not forget what he had put me through the past three months…what I could now prevent from happening.
Noah stepped up behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder.
“Did you hear me?” he asked. “I said—”
My nails curled and scraped across the granite countertop of our sink. My eyes shot to meet Noah’s in a bone-chilling glare. He slowly lifted his hand off of my shoulder, his eyes never leaving mine in the reflection.
“Do. Not. Touch. Me.”
