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“It’s wrong; rerun the test. She hasn’t found her mate. She can’t be pregnant,” my father says. I shrink back in my chair. I'm only seventeen, nearly eighteen, and the number one rule all she-wolves have drummed into our heads is to save ourselves for our mates. This is a huge deal, especially to my father. This would bring shame to our family, that I would break the one sacred rule for she-wolves. Sure, the men fool around (a little bias, anyone?) Yet if we do it—especially someone like me in a position of power—it's frowned upon. I would be a disgrace to the family.
“Alpha, I have tested the urine sample twice,” Doc Darnel tells him, but my father shakes his head, not believing his words—or not wanting to.
“No, test it again; it is wrong. My daughter is not a rogue whore,” he says, finality in his voice.
I cringe at his words: a woman who falls pregnant to someone who is not their mate. It's the worst thing to be labeled besides a traitor, though they're treated the same.
Rogue whores are forbidden on pack lands, only allowed on neutral territory: the main drag of the city and the two streets behind it on either side. Most she-wolves that fall pregnant in other cities are banished like they do with those that betray or commit treason among the packs; forsaken wolves. Without any pack contact, they turn feral, sending them crazed and mad, and are forced to live outside the cities. No one wants to be on their own out there. It isn’t safe, and not how anyone wants to live.
Our city is different. We don’t banish women from the city. Our treatment is slightly more… humane, I guess you could say. Instead, we just make them rogues, free to go about their lives but without pack help. I used to look down on them—those women I would see trying to make ends meet for their 'poor choices.' Maybe this is my karma; I will soon be one of them.
Running through this scenario in my head, the room starts to feel like it's running out of air. I wonder if I'm going to pass out.
“Yes, Alpha, I will test it again,” Doc Darnel says before rushing out of the room and away from my father’s deadly glare. My father starts pacing, and my heart rate quickens when he stops, turning to face me.
“He has to be wrong; you are not like that. You wouldn’t shame me this way,” he says, looking for confirmation. I shrink back in my chair. The Doc coming back in again stops him from saying more.
“The results are the same, Alpha,” Doc says before looking at me with pity.
I swallow, staring wide-eyed at the pack doctor, hoping he can save me from my father’s wrath, but even I know the elderly, graying man is no match for my father.
Neither am I since I still haven’t shifted.
After shifting on our eighteenth birthday, we can find our mates. I have seen friends and family go through it. It is considered sacred. I wonder, terrified, how much being pregnant will delay the process. Bodies can’t shift while pregnant; it is a safety mechanism to protect the unborn pup.
My father growls, turning on his heel and glaring at me, his fists clenched by his sides as he fights the urge to shift. Often, werewolves shift when they lose their temper or are preparing for a fight. Despite how hard he's trying, he's still barely holding back, his eyes starting to flicker black and his body trembling in his anger.
My father has always been so proud of my sister and me, always showing us off and telling everyone about what great daughters we are and what a great Alpha I will be when I take over the pack. I look like him—dark hair and bluish-gray eyes, I got those traits from him—and he raised me in his image, preparing me to take over. But right now, with my face mirrored in his wolf's black orbs, he looks on the verge of killing me. I have never seen him so angry in his life, and that is saying something.
“How far along is she?” Father asks. The venom in his words makes my blood run cold.
“We can have an ultrasound done next week to confirm gestation,” Doc tells him, and I look at my hands.
“No, do it now so we can take care of it before word gets out. I won’t have a rogue whore for a daughter. This is not to get out, do you understand, Doc?”
Doc nods his head nervously.
Vaguely, I notice my mouth is hanging open as I stare, absolutely gobsmacked at what my father just said. It's going against the Moon Goddess to abort a baby!
“Wait!” I say, finally finding my voice. My father looks at me and the Doc moves away from him when he feels my father’s aura rush out.
“Wait for what? You aren’t keeping this monstrosity. We can sweep it under the rug, no one has to know, and you can still take the Alpha position; we just need to take care of this poor choice, and then things can go back to normal,” my father says. He makes it sound so simple like this isn’t a sin against the Moon Goddess.
“No. I can’t do that, Father. Please, just let me speak with Mom. We can work this out,” I plead with him.
“No, you will terminate the pregnancy, then we go home. Doc, get whatever it is you need. I am not leaving this office until this is taken care of,” my father says.
I feel tears brimming at his words. Sure, I don’t want to be pregnant, but I am not a murderer; aborting a pregnancy is worse than having a child with someone who is not your mate.
“Alpha, I am afraid if your daughter isn’t willing, I can’t perform such a thing unless there is a medical reason.”
“She is willing, isn’t that right, Everly?” my father says, trying to force me to agree, but I meet his gaze head-on. My mind is made up; I won’t go through with it.
“No!” I tell him, not expecting his following reaction. In all my life, my father has never hit me, never raised a hand to me, and the shock of his action is more painful than the blow itself as his hand connects with the side of my face. I can feel the outline of his fingers etched into my cheek as a burning sensation spreads across it from his palm.
“Then you are no longer my daughter,” he says and walks out of the room.
ChapterTwo
