A deal with the devil in red
Anna's P.O.V
It was clear now. Fate itself had turned against me. Not just the moon goddess, but the entire universe seemed to conspire against me. In just a week, my marriage crumbled, I was cast out of the pack house, and as if that wasn't enough, my father took his last breath while in a coma.
My world came crashing down.
As soon as he was gone, my brothers seized everything he owned, leaving me with absolutely nothing. It was too much to bear. I had endured so much pain,far more than I ever deserved.
Everything slipped through my fingers, my marriage, my status, my inheritance. But losing my father? That was the cruelest blow of all.
I dragged the back of my hand across my damp cheeks, trying to steady myself as Dr. Andrew sat across from me. His smile was faint, almost hesitant, as if it carried the weight of guilt. "Anna, I'm so sorry for your loss…."
My head sank, my chest tightening as the walls I had built crumbled. I had fought so hard to hold it together, but the tears betrayed me, spilling freely. My voice barely rose above a whisper. "You said he was getting better, Dr. Andrew." Each word felt like a plea, like maybe saying it out loud would somehow change reality.
Dr. Andrew leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, a deep sigh leaving his lips. "Anna, he was improving—I swear he was. I don't understand what went wrong."
Sniffing, I lifted my gaze, my eyes locking onto his. A weak, bittersweet smile tugged at my lips. "You really made me believe he'd pull through, Dr. Andrew. But… I know you did everything you could."
His voice barely rose above a whisper. "I'm so sorry."
I wiped my tears away, shaking my head. "This isn't on you. You did your best… and I'm grateful for that, Dr. Andrew."
He gave a silent nod.
Biting my lower lip, an unsettling thought stirred inside me, refusing to be ignored. My fingers curled into my palm as doubt crept in. "Dr. Andrew… are you sure? Could there have been a mistake?"
"How?" His voice held a mix of confusion and curiosity.
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the edge of the chair. "I mean the test results, the ones saying I'm pregnant. That's impossible… it has to be a mistake."
My mind raced, searching for an explanation. As far back as I could remember, except for that one reckless night with Logan, there had been nothing. No intimacy. Not once during my marriage. So how…how could I possibly be pregnant?
Dr. Andrew exhaled, his expression soft yet firm as he slid another sheet of paper toward me. "Anna, this is the third test you've requested this week. The results haven't changed. You're three weeks pregnant."
As I stepped out of the hospital, my fingers tightened around the test results, pressing them against my chest as if that could somehow change what they said. My mind spun with a dozen thoughts, each one more confusing than the last.
I came to a halt, my breath hitching as my eyes drifted down to my stomach. Flat. Normal. Impossible. My gaze flickered back to the paper in my hands, the bold words taunting me.
This couldn't be real.
Pregnant? Me? How?
A sudden jolt of memory struck me like lightning. My feet felt glued to the ground as images flooded my mind, rushing in so fast it left me dizzy.
A month ago, Logan had thrown a grand party, one I had no say in attending. As Luna, I was expected to stand beside him, whether I wanted to or not. That night was a haze of forced smiles and endless drinks. One moment, I was drowning in alcohol, and the next… I was in his bed.
My breath hitched. My fingers trembled as I clutched the test results tighter. No. No. This couldn't be real.
The truth slammed into me like a tidal wave, knocking me off balance. I staggered back, my hand flying to my mouth as a sharp gasp tore from my lips.
"No!" The scream ripped from my throat, raw with denial.
Pregnant. With his child.
A shudder ran through me. I felt sick, disgusted, trapped in a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.
Why? Why would the Moon Goddess do this to me? I would rather die than bring that monster's child into this world.
This wasn't happening. It couldn't be. But the crumpled test results in my shaking hands said otherwise.
A broken sob tore from my throat as frustration surged through me. My fingers clenched, crushing the paper before I ripped it apart, over and over, until the pieces slipped through my fingers like ashes. But no matter how much I destroyed it, the truth still clung to me like a curse.
I stumbled into my car, not knowing where I was going, only that I needed to get away. The streets blurred, my mind a whirlwind of chaos. And then—like a dam finally breaking—the weight of my father's death crashed over me.
Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and unrelenting. My breath came in short, ragged gasps, my chest tightening as if invisible hands were squeezing the air out of me. It hurt, God, it hurt. Like a thousand needles stabbing into my heart, twisting deeper with every beat.
My hands shook as I gripped the steering wheel, my head hanging low. My chest felt tight, my breaths uneven. I looked up—too late.
The tires screamed against the road, the car jerking out of control. My heart pounded as I swerved, but nothing could stop it.
Then—impact. A loud crash. Glass shattered, metal crunched, and my body lurched forward as the car slammed into the bridge railing.
For a moment, everything went quiet. The world blurred. Then pain struck, sharp, pulsing in my head.
With shaky hands, I reached for the lock, forcing the door open. My legs felt weak as I stumbled out, gasping for air. Step by step, I moved toward the edge of the bridge, my mind spinning, my heart racing.
I took a shaky breath, my legs barely holding me up as I inched closer to the edge of the bridge.
"This is it," I whispered, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. The dark waves below stretched endlessly, waiting.
Memories flooded my mind, my son's laughter, my father's warm embrace. Gone. All gone.
"I'm coming, my love," I murmured, my voice barely above a breath.
My chest tightened. My thoughts were a tangled mess, but one thing was clear. I just wanted the pain to stop.
I shut my eyes, bracing myself for the fall. But just as I was about to step forward, a voice rang through the air, sharp and commanding. It sent a chill down my spine, freezing me in place.
A shiver ran down my spine as I slowly turned toward the voice, my breath catching in my throat.
Standing just a few steps behind me was a man in a red coat, his hands buried deep in his pockets. My gaze traveled up, locking onto his face, and my heart nearly stopped.
Sharp features, a chiseled jaw, familiar, too familiar. My stomach twisted as realization crashed over me. I knew him.
My breath hitched as I locked eyes with him. Disbelief crashed over me like a tidal wave, my hands instinctively flying to cover my mouth.
It couldn't be.
The rogue king. The very man who turned Logan's life into a battlefield, relentlessly trying to strip him of his pack, his power—his everything.
"Cyrus…" The name escaped my lips in a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make this nightmare real.
But that was impossible. Cyrus was dead. Had been for years.
Yet, there he stood.
"Yeah, it's me."
His voice slithered down my spine, sending a cold shiver through my bones.
"Tell me," he said, eyes dark and knowing. "Is this really how you want it all to end?"
"How about that promise you made to Logan? The one where you swore he'd be on his knees, begging for your mercy?"
My breath hitched. How the hell did he know that?
"You don't know a damn thing about me!" I shot back, my voice sharp with anger.
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady, almost amused. "Oh, but I do. I know you better than you think. For instance… you're carrying Logan's child."
My body went cold.
No. That's impossible. Even Logan doesn't know. So how does he?
He took a step closer, his voice dropping lower. "Tell me… shouldn't the ones who put you in this mess suffer for their sins?"
I stood frozen, my breath hitching. My mind screamed for a response, but nothing came out.
Then, he extended his hands toward me, his voice low and coaxing. "Take my hands, Anna. If you truly want to see Logan on his knees, begging for mercy, this is your chance."
A shiver ran through me. "What are you planning, Cyrus?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He took a step closer, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that sent a chill down my spine.
"Destroy him," he said.