Chapter 1 – Caged While Carrying His Pup

Evelyn’s POV

They say freedom has a taste.

Mine tasted like blood and ash.

The iron gates of the werewolf prison shrieked open and I stumbled out in my ragged clothes, clutching my little pub in my arms, the only thing that mattered to me in this cruel world.

The cold hit like claws raking across my back, right over the half-healed lash marks. My wolf whimpered somewhere deep inside me, weak and battered. She used to be my strength. Now, she was as broken as I was.

I pulled Lana tighter against my chest, shielding her from the wind that howled like a mourning pack. She was the only warmth left in my world.

When the wind finally eased, I pulled back a corner of the worn blanket. My heart softened instantly.

“Lana,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “My sweet little pup.”

She cooed softly, tiny lips puckering as her wide amber eyes blinked up at me, so innocent and pure. Her cheeks were soft and pink, a fragile bloom in a world that had gone gray.

Her tiny mouth opened, letting out a soft babble that melted my chest like sunlight through frost.

She didn’t know she’d been born behind silver bars, in a cell that smelled of death.

She didn’t know her father was the one who’d put me there.

A city bus screeched to a halt before us, its brakes hissing. I adjusted her carefully in my arms, wincing when the fabric scraped against the raw marks across my shoulder.

The guards used to say they were “reminding me of my place.” One had shoved me into the silver cage and kicked me when I tried to shield my swollen belly.

I still heard the echo of his laughter sometimes when the night grew too quiet.

I climbed onto the bus, fumbling with the fare coins. My fingers were cracked and shaking.

The driver’s eyes flicked toward me, just a second, but he looked away quickly. I bet he didn’t know who I was, I wasn’t surprised. I had become a shadow of myself, very unrecognizable. Spending long torturous months in prison would do that to you. Every bone in my body hurt; every step felt like walking through shards of glass.

I found a seat at the back, huddling into the corner as the engine groaned to life. My reflection in the window startled me. I had hollow eyes, a split lip, a scar running down my jaw.

Eighteen months ago, I used to be Luna Evelyn Crawford, wife to Declan Crawford, Alpha of the Ironclaw Pack, a man who couldn’t even look at me without disgust.

I shut my eyes and memories came unbidden. Memories of the day it all happened. I was in bed crying quietly into the sheets, wondering what I did to deserve the life I had.

I had been married to my husband for five years, a marriage devoid of warmth, love and intimacy. But the previous night, Declan had came home late, reeking of whisky and despair. I remember helping him through the door, removing his shoes, washing his face. I gave him water to drink and helped him into the bed.

But as he slid beneath the covers, his hand clamped around my wrist, rough and cold.

“You’ve always wanted to trap me, haven’t you?” he growled, his breath hot against my skin. “Getting my grandmother to pressure me about pups, that was your plan all along.”

I shook my head, tears already blurring my vision. “Declan, please, I-“

“Congratulations,” he spat, yanking me closer. “You will finally get what you have always wanted.”

He didn’t wait for consent, he forced himself on me, taking my dignity roughly. That was not how I had envisioned my first night to be.

My wolf had screamed inside me, thrashing against the cage of my ribs, but I couldn’t fight. I lay there, silent crying into the bedsheet until morning.

Then came the crash of the door, the enforcers bursting into the room. I was startled. They yanked me from the bed, half-naked and confused.

They didn’t even give me time to breathe.

I remember grabbing the nearest jacket from the hanger before they dragged me out of the house, the same house I had turned into a home with my own hands.

Their shouts blurred with the pounding of my heart. My wolf howled inside me, confused and terrified, begging me to shift and run, but the silver cuffs clamped tight around my wrists burned her into silence.

They accused be of being a spy.

Said I’d been scheming with the Cowen’s family to sell Crawford Group’s files.

Lies. It was all lies.

The rain came down in cold sheets, soaking through my clothes as they shoved me into the courtyard. I stumbled, falling to my knees, the gravel biting into my skin. My hair clung to my face as I looked up at him-Declan Crawford. My husband and Alpha.

“Declan,” I choked out, the word torn between a plea and a sob. “Please believe me. I didn’t do it…”

My tears mixed with the rain, washing down the bruises on my face. For a moment, I thought I saw hesitation in his eyes, but no. His expression hardened, his lips curling with disgust.

“If your words could make you innocent, Evelyn,” he said coldly, “what would we need the guards and the Council for?”

He stood beneath the eaves, his hands buried in his coat pockets, protected from the rain as if my suffering were a spectacle to him. My wolf whimpered, pressing against my heart, desperate to reach him through the bond, but he’d already walled himself off.

“There will be no reconciliation,” he continued, his tone final and merciless. “No settlement. No matter how much you beg or offer. You will pay dearly for this betrayal.”

Then he turned his back on me.

Just like that.

The Enforcers hauled me to my feet and dragged me away. My vision blurred, but I couldn’t stop staring at him until the heavy car doors slammed shut. The marks from the night before still burned across my neck where he’d claimed me, where he’d accused me, then punished me like a criminal in our bed.

I can still feel the sting of his claws when I close my eyes.

Eighteen months have passed since then, even seasons have changed.

And now… now I’m free.

I looked down at the tiny bundle in my arms. My daughter, my miracle. Her soft breath brushed against my skin as she slept, innocent and perfect, untouched by the cruelty that brought her into this world.

I smiled weakly and planted a kiss on her forehead. “You’re the only good thing that came out of that nightmare, my child” I whispered.

My wolf stirred gently within me.

I stared into space and made a vow never to forgive him for all the pain he had caused me. Declan would never know about this child, our child. He forfeited that right the moment he cast me out like filth.

I’m done with him. Done with the pain. Done with being the weak Luna who begged for mercy.

Declan’s POV

The Bentley purred to a stop before the prison gates. I sat in the back seat, still as stone with my eyes closed as I listened to the rhythmic thump of my own heartbeat.

When I finally opened my eyes, they locked on the weather-worn sign ahead: The Nightshade Institution for Women.

I checked my watch. The seconds dragged. “Why isn’t she out yet?” I muttered, my voice low and clipped.

“The release paperwork might be taking longer than expected, Alpha,” my beta, Collins, replied quickly, his eyes fixed on the road. After a nervous pause, he added, “Don’t worry, sir. It’s Luna Evelyn’s release day. She’ll be… over the moon to see that you came to pick her up yourself.”

A humorless sound escaped me. “Is that so?”

My wolf snarled beneath the surface, restless. She had betrayed us.

“She schemed with the Cowen’s family,” I said flatly, a flicker of frost in my gaze. “She sold my company’s confidential files. She could’ve continued living comfortably as my wife and Luna, but no. She chose to be a traitor.”

Even saying it left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“She brought this on herself,” I said, though the words didn’t burn as sharply as they once did. “I’m just here to see if she dares look me in the eye.”

The air inside the car turned thick and suffocating. Collins, my beta, didn’t respond, he cracked the window for air, then stiffened suddenly. “Wait a second…” he whispered. “Is that-Luna Evelyn?”

My head turned sharply. “What?”

He pointed across the lot, toward a bus that had just pulled away. “I thought I saw her, Alpha… but…”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, exhaustion pressing behind my eyes after a night of meetings. “Speak clearly.”

“She was…holding a baby,” he said quietly. “It must’ve been my mistake.”

My hands froze. A baby?

I followed his gaze and saw the woman he was referring to on a bus, she was rocking a baby in her arms. Her hair fell over half her face, but the curve of her jaw… the way she looked at the child, soft and lost to the world, it stirred something deep in me for a brief, breathless second.

I shook it off, forcing logic to take over. “Impossible,” I said flatly. “She was twenty-two when she went to prison. There was no child.”

That scene triggered memories from eighteen months ago.

I had stumbled home drunk that night, my grandmother’s words echoing in my head, her endless talk about heirs, legacies, and responsibility. The weight of it had driven me to the bottle again.

Evelyn had been waiting, quiet as always, her eyes full of worry instead of reproach. She helped me as she always does every night.

She had tucked me in and was about to leave when I grabbed her roughly by the wrist. My temper had already snapped long before my hands touched her. She was so small in my grip, trembling, looking down at me with those wide eyes that always made me feel… exposed.

I can still remember the heat of that moment, the storm in my chest, the way my anger blurred everything around me.

She’d spoken to my grandmother about children. I decided to finally give her what she always wanted.

When she whispered, “Declan, not like this…” her voice was barely a breath. I heard it, but I knew exactly what that meant. She was only playing me, trying to make me relent. Trying to control me the way everyone else had.

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