Chapter 3

My soul floated in the air, watching Orion and Beatrix have sex on my marital bed.

The wedding photo on the nightstand shook.

Looking at myself in the photo, so affectionate, and at the cold Orion.

Only then did I realize that souls can cry too.

But Orion, there won't be a next time.

Because...

I'm already dead.

At the time, I was so frightened I wanted to run away. He watched with his own eyes as I clutched my eight-month pregnant belly and fled like a headless fly.

In the end, he ordered his guards to drag me back. Having lost his patience, before throwing me into the hunting grounds, he had the accompanying witch cast a spell on me.

My body began to twist and deform. Antlers grew from my forehead, and brown fur covered my skin.

I transformed into the shape of a deer.

He waved his hand coldly. "Starting now, you're the prey for the Hunt Festival."

I was pushed into the hunting grounds. The werewolves behind me caught the scent of prey, and their eyes began to glow red.

I ran desperately, but my body, eight months pregnant, was unbearably heavy.

The howling of wolves behind me grew closer and closer.

I cried and told him I couldn't run anymore. I begged him to save our child.

He hesitated for a moment, but Beatrix, who had just been rescued, reminded him weakly from his arms, "I remember Seraphina's due date isn't for another week, right? But she does look really scared. Getting this frightened before it even starts—maybe we should just forget it. I'm fine..."

The next second, Orion's face filled with disgust. "Seraphina! You're revolting. You're even using our child as a bargaining chip to compete for favor. Stay in there and reflect on yourself!"

In the hunting grounds, the cold wind made my teeth chatter. My stomach hurt more and more.

I ran desperately. The werewolves behind me chased closer and closer.

A werewolf pounced. Its claws tore through my hind leg. Blood gushed out.

I fell to the ground, then struggled to get up again.

Another werewolf charged. Its fangs sank into my shoulder.

I screamed in pain, desperately shook it off, and kept running forward.

Until a third werewolf pounced and slammed hard into my abdomen.

Intense pain struck. A rush of hot liquid burst from my body.

I looked down. Blood ran down my legs, and a tiny body fell from beneath me.

I couldn't even see clearly whether my child was a boy or a girl.

The next second, the wolf pack behind me swarmed forward, fighting over that mass of flesh and blood.

I screamed in anguish and lunged forward, trying to retrieve my child.

But the werewolves knocked me aside. I could only watch helplessly as that tiny body disappeared in the werewolves' struggle.

My blood spilled onto the dirt of the hunting grounds, staining a large patch red.

I stopped breathing amid my agonized screams.

And what was Orion doing at that time?

He had summoned the most authoritative werewolf doctors of the Ashpelt Pack, all to prevent the shallow burns on Beatrix's arm from scarring.

He bought countless roses and bid on globally unique jewelry to present to Beatrix, hoping only that his frightened white moonlight wouldn't be afraid anymore.

And when someone tried to report news about me to him, he impatiently interrupted, "Even if she died, she brought it on herself."

...

"Alright, it's almost her due date in two days. Bring Seraphina here to apologize to Beatrix. She's been in the hunting grounds so long, she must be filthy. Have her wash up before coming."

Orion held Beatrix on his lap while working.

Beatrix's hand kept drawing circles on his chest. "Why don't we just forget it? I believe Seraphina didn't mean it. At the end of the day, I shouldn't have come back. But I just wanted to be by your side. I really didn't mean to make you two fight because of me."

Orion indulgently caught her wandering hand. "Beatrix, you're my savior. Just for that alone, I'll protect you forever. She's my wife—she should be tolerant of you along with me. But instead she deliberately targets you every time, provoking you."

"I can't even imagine—if the fire hadn't been put out in time, I might never forgive myself for the rest of my life."

Hearing this, a flash of unnaturalness crossed Beatrix's face. She shrank her neck and said nothing more.