Chapter 30 Forced Out

Chapter 30 Forced Out
Chapter 30 : Forced Out

It had been two long days since Alpha Ronan left on his trip. The house felt colder, emptier, and heavier without him. I tried to keep myself busy, tried to eat, tried to rest, but everything felt wrong. The maids avoided me, glancing nervously when I passed. The warriors, usually so alert and watchful over me, looked through me like I didn’t exist. My stomach fluttered uncomfortably, a constant reminder of the child I carried, a secret that made me both precious and vulnerable.

I felt every eye turn away from me. I had nothing left here, no one to trust, no one to care. I wanted to cry, to scream, to throw myself to the ground and beg for someone—anyone—to help me. But I had learned long ago that tears didn’t work here. They never had.

A sharp knock on my door made me flinch. My heart jumped into my throat.

“Maltida,” a calm, cold voice said.

I froze. The voice… it could be only one person.

Calyra.

My stomach twisted. I knew this moment would come. I had dreaded it for days, but I never thought it would feel this heavy, this suffocating.

She entered without waiting for an invitation, her eyes glinting like steel. “Maltida,” she said, her voice soft but full of authority, “it’s time you leave.”

I blinked, trying to find words. “Leave… where?” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I… I can’t just go. I have nowhere…”

She stepped closer, her sharp heels clicking on the floor. “You’ve stayed here long enough. The pack has a peace to maintain, rules to follow. You… you are a disturbance, a substitute pretending to belong. I won’t allow it any longer.”

I tried to argue, my hands shaking as I clutched my stomach. “Please… I… I need—”

“No,” she interrupted, cutting me off like a blade. “There are consequences for your kind of… intrusion. You will leave. Now. Or suffer the cost.”

My throat closed, and panic filled my chest. My heart raced. My hands trembled so badly I could barely grip my clothes. Where could I go? How could I survive? The child I carried—my secret, my hope—was my responsibility alone, and I had nowhere to hide, nowhere to run.

I looked to the hallway, hoping, praying, that one of the warriors might intervene. But they were all distant, indifferent, even a little cold. They didn’t meet my eyes. The maids didn’t even glance my way. The reality hit me like a blow: Calyra had full control. They were all obeying her.

“You…” I choked, “you can’t do this. Ronan… he—”

“He is away,” Calyra said smoothly, almost smugly. “And while he is away, I make the rules here. You are to leave, Maltida. Pack your things. Now.”

I wanted to scream, to throw myself at her feet, to plead with her to understand. My hands fumbled at my clothes, shaking violently. I had to do what she said. I had no choice.

The maids who had ignored me for days now appeared, carrying boxes and bags as if rehearsed. They didn’t look at me, didn’t speak. They handed me a box each, and I couldn’t stop my hands from trembling as I put my things inside. Every movement felt heavy, like the weight of my own fear was pressing down on me.

“Be quick,” Calyra said, watching me with those sharp, calculating eyes. “You have only until sundown. After that… well, you’ll see the consequences of disobedience.”

I swallowed hard. My lips trembled as I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I nodded weakly, forcing myself to pack, to move, to obey, though every step felt like I was walking into a nightmare.

As I packed, I noticed the little details—the way the maids wouldn’t hand me water, wouldn’t offer even a crumb of food. The warriors were standing near the doors, their arms crossed, watching me silently. No one cared if I fell, if I hurt myself, or if I cried. I realized it wasn’t just Calyra who was cruel—it was everyone she influenced.

I sat on the floor, my bags half-packed, my hands rubbing my stomach instinctively. My child, my little secret… I felt a sharp pang of fear. What would happen if something went wrong? What if Calyra didn’t just want me out, but wanted to hurt me? The thought made me shiver violently, and I hugged my stomach tightly.

One of the maids placed a box in my hands roughly. “This is all your clothes. Hurry up,” she said coldly, stepping back immediately.

I forced a shaky smile. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice almost inaudible.

The hours passed slowly. Each time I looked up, Calyra’s eyes were on me, like a hawk circling its prey. Every movement I made felt like it was being judged, measured. Every time I bent to pack another shirt, every time I adjusted a pillow in my bag, my stomach fluttered painfully. I wanted to collapse, to scream, to curl up on the floor and disappear. But I couldn’t. I had to survive.

Finally, as the sun dipped low and the sky turned a deep orange, I had packed everything I could carry. My arms ached, my back ached, my heart ached. My small room—once a place where I had at least felt protected when Ronan was near—now felt like a trap.

Calyra stepped closer, her face set in a mask of control and satisfaction. “Time’s up,” she said softly, but there was a sharp edge under her words. “Go. And don’t look back.”

I held my bags tighter, my legs trembling as I stood. I glanced at her, and for the first time, I felt a spark of defiance amid the fear. I couldn’t let her see how scared I truly was. “I… I understand,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

She tilted her head slightly, as if amused by my compliance. “Good. I expect you gone before nightfall. Don’t test me.”

I nodded again, my hands shaking so badly I thought the bags might slip. I moved slowly toward the door, each step heavier than the last. I paused at the threshold, taking a deep, shuddering breath. The cold night air was outside, waiting for me. The world beyond my room felt endless, terrifying, and unknown.

As I stepped out, the pack territory stretched before me. The familiar paths now seemed hostile. Every shadow felt like it was watching me, waiting for me to fail. I clutched my bags tightly, my free hand instinctively resting on my stomach. My child—my secret, my hope—was still safe for now, and I would protect it with everything I had.

No maids, no warriors, no one to help me. Calyra had won this round. But I was not defeated. Not yet.

I walked slowly, painfully, toward the edge of the pack’s lands, my heart pounding in my chest. I didn’t know where I would go, what I would do, or how I would survive the night. But I knew one thing—this child, this life inside me, was mine. And I would fight for it, even if I had to face the darkness alone.

The wind blew cold against my cheeks, tears slipping down my face, mixing with the sweat and fear. I had no allies. No protector. No one to guide me. I was truly alone.

And yet, with every trembling step I took, I promised myself one thing: I would survive. For me, for my child. For the life that was mine and mine alone.