Aria's Pov

You are a disgrace, Aria. A wolfless and worthless omega.

The words came crashing down on me, my father’s voice echoing through the white hospital walls like a curse. He didn’t care that I had just given birth, that my body was still weak, that my heart was still bleeding from the loss of my child. His hand came fast, striking my cheek with a slap so sharp it sent me stumbling backward.

Gasps filled the corridor. Heads turned, phones came out. More people poured in, drawn not just by the noise but by the sight of him.

Alpha Caleb. My father. To the world, he was a warrior, respected and feared. But to me, he was nothing but the shadow of pain. To me, he was the monster that haunted every step of my life.

My hand reached for the hospital bed, trembling, just to steady myself. My vision was blurred with tears, my chest heaving. “Papa… please,” I whispered, my voice breaking like thin glass. “Not here. I beg you. I am already ashamed. Don’t do this here…”

But he didn’t stop. Another slap came, harder, tearing the little strength left in me. My tears burned as they rolled down my cheeks.

Laughter. Yeah, I heard it. Soft giggles at first, then louder. Some laughed so hard they clutched their stomachs. Strangers—people I had never harmed—stood there laughing at my humiliation.

“How dare you?” Father roared, lifting his arms high, his stick gripped tightly in his fist. His voice carried through the hospital like thunder. “You slept with another man in your marriage? You dared to disgrace me? First of all, you were never supposed to marry an Alpha. A wolfless omega like you should have been a servant. A servant!” His eyes burned into me. “But you tricked everyone into believing Lucian was your mate? Ha! I should have known you were nothing but trouble.”

Each word cut deeper than any blade. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t defend myself. My throat was closed with pain. My body ached, but worse than the pain in my skin was the pain in my soul.

I bent down, trembling, and began picking up my few things with shaking hands. My heart screamed, Please, Papa, not like this, but my lips could only whisper broken pleas he refused to hear.

“Silence!” His voice cracked like a whip. “Pack your things and get in the car. Right now!”

I obeyed. I always obeyed. What else could I do? My heart shattered, my body was heavy, I dragged myself toward the door and climbed into the back seat of his car.

A few minutes later, my stepmother appeared—dignified as always, her face was calm, her movements were elegant. She carried herself like the perfect Luna. Beside her walked Clara, my stepsister, beautiful, polished, and cruel. Her eyes found me, and her lips twisted.

“I can’t sit with her,” Clara said, covering her nose with her hand. “She stinks. She’ll stain me. I’ll take a taxi.” Her words were sharp, but her stare was worse, cold and deadly, like a knife pressed against my throat.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. It wasn’t about her. It never was.

The drive home was silent, except for my muffled sobs. Nobody spoke. Nobody comforted me.

When we finally reached home, I stepped inside, shivering from the night air. My stepmother walked in first. She dropped her bag on the table and, without hesitation, slapped me so hard that my head whipped to the side.

The sting made my eyes watery again. This wasn’t the first time she had hit me. She hated me from the very beginning. At the hospital, her silence was just an act. A show for the crowd. Pretending to be the dignified, patient mother. But here, inside these walls, she was herself.

“You are crazy, Aria!” she screamed, her voice dripping with hatred. “A curse! and a shame to us all!”

Her hand tangled in my hair, yanking me down so hard that my scalp burned. She slammed me onto the floor, my body crashing painfully against the cold tiles.

“Please!” I begged, choking on tears. “Please, hear me out. Just once—”

She didn’t stop. Her hand struck my face again. Her knee pressed into my chest. My body writhed in pain beneath her blows.

Then Father returned, his footsteps were slow and deliberate. He carried a bucket of water.

“No… Papa, please—”

The freezing water he poured on me drenched me, soaking through my thin clothes, making me choke and cough. My body trembled violently, shivering from both cold and fear.

He didn’t look at me. He locked the door, pulled back the curtains, sealing us in darkness. My stepmother tied my wrists to a chair with rough ropes. She shoved a cloth into my mouth, gagging me. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t beg. I could only look at them with wide, terrified eyes.

Then I saw him walk toward the corner. He picked up an iron rod. My heart dropped.

He plugged it in. Sparks hissed, and soon the metal glowed red, burning hot. My chest heaved in panic, tears spilling uncontrollably as I shook my head desperately.

Papa’s voice was steady, calm. “This is how we treat criminals.”

The iron pressed into my lap.

Agony. White, blinding, soul-crushing agony. My body jerked violently against the chair. The cloth muffled my screams, soaking with my saliva and tears. The smell of burning flesh filled the room. My flesh.

Again. Again. The hot rod kissed my skin, each time ripping another piece of my soul.

My stepmother stood smiling, her eyes shining with cruel satisfaction. My father looked down at me with nothing but disgust.

Finally, he dropped the iron, his chest rising and falling. “Now get out. Go back to your husband’s house. You are not my daughter.”

I shook my head weakly, my voice breaking as the gag was pulled free. “Please… Papa, I can’t…”

He slapped me so hard my lip split. Blood ran down my chin. His voice thundered: “Leave! There is no space for you in this house!”

They untied me. My legs shook as I staggered up. My body was weak and burning because I was broken. One more slap sent me stumbling toward the door. Then it opened, and I was shoved into the night.

The air was cold. My wet clothes clung to me, and my burns screamed with every step. I staggered down the street, my vision was blurred. My legs moved without direction, like I was drunk.

People stopped to stare. Some gasped. Others pointed. But most… most laughed. Phones lit up, recording my shame, capturing every broken step I took.

I was nothing but a spectacle to them. The fallen omega. The unwanted mate.

With nowhere else to go, my heart—foolish and desperate—took me to Lucian’s house.

The gate was open. My heart fluttered. Maybe… maybe he left it for me. Maybe he still cared. Maybe he was waiting.

I dragged myself inside; every step I took was painful, but my heart clung to hope. The door was unlocked, too. My chest ached, but for a fleeting second, I let myself believe it meant something. That maybe he still loved me.

But then I heard it.

A sound. Low at first, then clearer. A woman’s voice. Breathless. Moaning.

I froze. My heart stopped beating for a moment. My legs moved without my permission, dragging me closer to the sound. Each step made my chest heavier.

I reached the doorway. My hands trembled as I pushed myself to look.

And there, in that room, I saw something that shattered me completely.