Moon Goddess Intervened After Alpha Father Used Mom as Blood BagChapter 2

"Kneeling isn't enough. Take my life instead. Will that satisfy you?"

The blade was thin but sharp. A line of red opened across Mom's neck, and blood slid down the pale column of her throat.

My father's pupils blew wide. For the first time tonight, he looked genuinely afraid.

"Elara, have you lost your mind? Lyra — don't just stand there! Do you want to watch your mother bleed out?"

Mom looked at him, and the bigger his panic grew, the calmer her smile became.

"Damien, wouldn't it be easier if I were gone? Then there's nothing standing between you and Serena."

His face tightened, words stumbling over each other.

"That — you're being ridiculous. I have never thought of Serena as anything but a sister—"

A sister.

Right. A sister he had shared a bed with for three years and fathered a child with.

"Elara, stop making a scene. If someone reports this to the Lycan King, we'll lose our honored pack status before the year is out."

And there it was.

Three years he had been with Serena. Three years, and now he wanted to play devoted mate?

No — he was afraid of the scandal. Afraid the rumors would reach the throne and undo everything he'd spent years building. His reputation. His pack's standing. His perfect image as a faithful, noble alpha.

He wanted Mom to stay because she kept everything running and made him look good. He wanted Serena because she made him feel good.

He didn't want to lose either one.

I looked at the blood on Mom's neck, my eyes burning, and pressed a fold of gauze against the cut to slow the bleeding.

"Mom. Don't do this to yourself. He isn't worth it."

She lifted her hand — slow, effortful — and brushed the hair from my forehead. She looked at my red eyes, and gently wiped the corner of one with her thumb.

"Don't cry. It will all be over soon. And then… we'll be free."

She swayed. I caught her before she could fall.

But Serena wasn't finished.

"Damien—" Her voice went honeyed and pitiful. "It hurts. I think my incision tore open."

Damien crossed the room in three steps. He lifted the hem of Serena's hospital gown, and there it was — the surgical wound, split open in a way that did not look accidental.

His jaw hardened. He spun toward the nurses.

"Transfer Serena's pain to Elara Voss. Now."

And in the same instant, the voice returned — crystalline and cold — inside my mother's mind.

"The ninety-eighth transfer is complete."

Serena sagged against Damien's chest and pressed her fingers delicately to her eyes.

"Elara, I'm so sorry. I hate to keep putting this on you."

Mom shuddered — the full-body kind, the kind that meant the pain had arrived in a wave. Her face went white as paper. But she clenched her jaw and made no sound. Her lips curved into a cold, anticipatory smile.

I understood.

She had done this on purpose. She had pushed them — goaded them — into triggering the transfer.

Two left.

Only two more.

But God, the thought of her enduring two more—

I gripped the hem of her sleeve, blinking hard against the sting in my eyes.

"Mom… we can walk away. Leave everything. I don't care about any of it."

Mom tried to smile. Serena cut in before she could speak.

Her voice dripped sweetness, laced with poison.

"Elara, I know you blame me for taking Damien away from you."

"But what could I do? We fell in love. I gave up everything — I didn't even ask for the title of luna. I've been so patient. And then you nearly killed me on that operating table."

She paused and sighed, theatrical as a stage actress.

"All I'm asking for is an apology. Why play the victim?"

"Fine. Maybe it's my fault for everything. Maybe I deserve to die."

She turned — and her foot swung, hard and deliberate, straight into my mother's body.