Chapter 112 THE LUNAS ISOLATION

Chapter 112 THE LUNAS ISOLATION
Medea's Pov

I spent most of my days alone in my chambers now because I could not face the pack members and their judging stares. Every time I walked through the pack house I heard whispers and saw people turn away from me. Nobody wanted to associate with me anymore.

Eclipse was gone. She had been arrested and taken to tribunal custody and I was not allowed to visit her. I tried three times and each time the guards turned me away saying Eclipse was not accepting visitors. I did not know if that was her choice or the tribunal's rule but either way, I could not see my sister.

Without Eclipse I felt completely lost. She had always been the one to tell me what to do and how to handle difficult situations. She was my advisor and my protector and my partner in everything. Now I had to figure things out on my own and I had no idea where to start.

Asher was gone too. Celestia had won custody and taken him away to PhoenixClaw. Part of me was relieved because I never really wanted to be his mother anyway. He was always a reminder of everything I had to do to get Raphael. But another part of me felt empty because now I had nothing to show for all the schemes and lies.

The fake pregnancy was becoming impossible to maintain. I was supposed to be about five months along now which meant I should have a visible belly. I had been wearing loose clothing and avoiding people but eventually someone was going to notice that I did not look pregnant.

Elder Janice had stopped returning my messages. She probably realized the fake pregnancy was going to be exposed and wanted to distance herself from me before that happened. I did not blame her but it left me with no one to help cover for me.

I sat in my room staring at myself in the mirror and tried to figure out what to do. I could keep pretending for another few weeks and then claim I had a miscarriage. That would get me sympathy and might help repair my reputation a little. People would feel sorry for me instead of hating me.

I pressed my palm flat against my stomach, as if feeling something there might make the lie more real. It would be easy. Tragic, even Women lost babies all the time. No one questioned grief when it came wrapped in tears and trembling hands. They would lower their voices when I walked past. They would stop whispering. Maybe some of them would even apologize for judging me too harshly.

The idea made my chest loosen, just a little.

But the mirror didn’t look convinced.

My reflection stared back at me, pale and tight-lipped, eyes sharp instead of broken. I practiced the expression anyway—downcast gaze, quivering breath, the kind of pain people expected to see. It felt wrong. Not because the lie was cruel, but because it had to be perfect. One wrong detail, one slip, and everything would collapse. Sympathy could turn into suspicion faster than hatred ever had.

And worse—once I said it out loud, there would be no going back. A miscarriage wasn’t just an excuse. It was a story I would have to live with forever.

I swallowed, fingers curling into the edge of the dresser.

Was surviving worth becoming that person?

But what if someone demanded medical proof? What if they wanted to see records or examine me? I could not fake a miscarriage if there was never a pregnancy to begin with.

I could run away. Pack a bag in the middle of the night and just disappear. Go somewhere far away where nobody knows me or my history. Start over with a new identity.

But where would I go? I had no money of my own. Everything I had came from Raphael and the pack. I had no skills or education that would help me survive on my own. I was completely dependent on this pack and this position.

There was a knock on my door and I jumped. Nobody had come to see me in days.

"Come in," I called out.

One of the house servants entered carrying a tray of food. She set it down on my table without looking at me.

Her movements were quick and careful, as if she wanted to be gone before I could speak. No polite greeting. No quiet question about whether I needed anything else. Just the soft clink of dishes and the rustle of her skirts as she turned away.

I watched her back, heat creeping up my neck.

They used to linger. They used to ask after my health, offer extra blankets, smile like they meant it. Now even the servants couldn’t quite hide it—the distance, the discomfort. Maybe they had been warned. Or maybe they didn’t need to be. Word traveled fast in this house, faster than truth ever did.

“Wait,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

She paused at the door but didn’t turn around.

I hated that most of all.

I swallowed and tried again, softer this time, forcing a tremor into my voice. “Thank you.”

There was a brief hesitation, just long enough to sting, before she murmured a response and slipped out, closing the door behind her with a careful click.

The room felt smaller after that.

I stared at the tray she’d left behind—food meant for someone fragile, someone worth pity—and felt the familiar twist in my stomach. Even without looking at me, she had already decided what I was.

Or worse, what I wasn’t.

"Your dinner Luna Medea," the servant said quietly.

"Thank you. Can you stay for a moment? I want to ask you something," I said.

The servant looked uncomfortable but she nodded.

"What are people saying about me? What rumors are going around the pack?" I asked.

"I do not think I should say, Luna. It would be disrespectful," the servant said.

"Please. I need to know what people are thinking," I said.

The servant hesitated and then spoke quietly.

"They are saying you and your sister framed Lady Celestia. They are saying you stole her child and lied about everything. They are saying you are the reason the pack is falling apart. They are saying Alpha Raphael should reject you and choose a better Luna," the servant said.

Each word felt like a knife stabbing into me. I knew people were talking but hearing it said out loud made it real and painful.

"Is that what you think too?" I asked.

"It does not matter what I think. I am just a servant," the servant said.

"But you do think that do you not? You think I am a terrible person who deserves everything bad that is happening to me," I said.

The servant did not answer but her silence told me everything I needed to know. Even the servants who used to fear me now looked down on me.

"You can go," I said.

The servant left quickly and I was alone again. I looked at the food she brought but I had no appetite. I had barely eaten anything in days because I felt sick all the time from stress and fear.

The tray sat on the small table beside the bed, untouched, the smell of warm broth turning my stomach instead of soothing it. I pushed it away with two fingers, the porcelain scraping softly against the wood. Even that small sound made me flinch. Everything felt too loud lately. Too sharp.

My hands were shaking again.

I told myself it was normal. Anyone in my position would feel like this. Anyone who had the entire pack watching their every move, waiting for them to slip. Stress could make you nauseous. Fear could steal your appetite. That didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean…

I stopped the thought before it could finish.

I stood and paced the room instead, counting my steps to keep my breathing steady. One. Two. Three. If I stayed still too long, my mind spiraled. Faces crept in—elders, servants, whispers curling through the halls like smoke. I imagined them watching me even now, measuring how much I ate, how often I slept, how convincingly I played my part.

What if they noticed?

I pressed a hand to my mouth as another wave of nausea rolled through me. This wasn’t weakness. This was survival. I just had to hold on a little longer. A few more days… A few more lies.

Still, when I passed the mirror, I couldn’t ignore how hollow my cheeks had become, how my clothes hung looser than before.

If I kept going like this, I wouldn’t have to fake being sick.

My body was already betraying me.

I thought about Eclipse and wondered how she was doing in tribunal custody. Was she scared? Was she angry at me? Did she blame me for everything that went wrong?

I wanted to talk to her so badly. I wanted to hear her tell me that everything would be okay and that she had a plan to fix all of this. But she was not here and I had to face reality on my own.

The reality was that I was completely alone. My sister was in prison. My mate resented me. The pack hated me. I had no friends and no allies. The fake pregnancy was about to be exposed. And I had no idea how to fix any of it.

I walked over to my closet and looked at all the expensive clothes and jewelry I had accumulated over the past few years. Raphael had bought me everything I asked for because I was his Luna and he wanted me to look the part. But now all of it seemed meaningless.

What good were fancy dresses and diamond necklaces when I had no one to share them with? What good was the title of Luna when everyone in the pack wished I were gone?

I sat down on my bed and started crying. I cried for Eclipse who was locked up because of the schemes we created together. I cried for the life I thought I would have with Raphael that never materialized. I cried for my parents who were executed as traitors and left Eclipse to fend for ourselves.

Everything I did was to avoid ending up like my parents. I wanted power and security so no one could ever hurt me the way the pack hurt my family. But in trying to protect myself I had become just as hated as my parents were.

The irony was bitter. I had spent my whole life trying to rise above my family's reputation and now I had a worse reputation than they ever did.