TOO LATE PRINCE! I'M NO LONGER YOUR CHUBBY LUNA

LYDIA POV

They didn't take me home.

My parents dragged me past the kitchens, past the training grounds, and down the narrow stone steps that led to the old basement beneath the pack house. The air grew colder with every step. I stumbled, still crying, still begging them to stop, but my father's grip only tightened until I thought the bone might snap.

"You embarrassed us in front of the entire kingdom," he snarled. "The Alpha Prince rejected you and you still had the nerve to question him. Tonight you will learn your place."

The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind us. The lock turned with a final, ugly click.

I barely had time to turn before the first blow landed.

My mother's hand cracked across my face again, harder than before. I fell against the cold stone wall. My father didn't speak. He simply struck me across the shoulders, then the back, then the side of my head until I dropped to my knees. Pain exploded through my body. I curled inward, arms over my head, sobbing openly now.

"Please...stop..."

They didn't stop.

The door opened once more. Seraphina stepped inside, still wearing the elegant dress she had danced in, a pair of sharp shears dangling from her fingers. Her smile was bright and cruel.

"She doesn't need all that hair," she said lightly. "It only makes her look messier. And the minister won't care about it anyway."

I froze.

Minister?

My mother grabbed a fistful of my dark hair and yanked my head back. The shears closed with a harsh metallic sound. Chunk after chunk fell to the dirty floor. I thrashed, cried, begged, but the hands holding me were too strong. Tears streamed down my face as my hair, the only thing I had ever privately liked about myself, was cut away in uneven, humiliating handfuls. When they finished, cold air touched the back of my neck. I could feel how ragged and short it was.

Seraphina tossed the shears aside and crouched in front of me, tilting her head.

"There. Now you look exactly like what you are."

I was shaking so hard my teeth chattered. "What... what minister?"

My father answered, voice flat and final.

"Elder Minister Varkas from the eastern territory. He's been looking for a new... companion. He's old, wealthy, and he doesn't care about appearance as long as the girl is obedient and quiet. We already accepted his offer. He'll take you off our hands at dawn. The embarrassment ends tomorrow."

The words hit harder than any slap.

They were going to sell me.

Not just punish me. Not just lock me away. But to Sell me over to an old man like I was livestock that had become inconvenient.

Seraphina laughed softly. "Don't look so shocked. No one in this pack will ever want you after tonight. At least this way you won't starve. You should be grateful we're arranging anything at all."

My mother delivered one last slap, almost absent-minded, then stepped back.

"Stay quiet until morning. If you scream, no one will come. They're all still celebrating the Prince."

The door shut. The lock turned. Their footsteps faded up the stairs.

And Finally I was alone.

I stayed on the floor for a long time, forehead pressed to the cold stone, sobbing until no more sound would come out. My scalp burned where the hair had been torn and cut. My body ached from the blows. The broken mate bond still throbbed in my chest like an open wound that refused to close. Patrick's voice kept repeating in my head. "I reject you, fatass." My parents' voices followed. "No man in his right mind." And now a new one: "He'll take you off our hands at dawn."

Something inside me cracked wider.

I lifted my head.

The basement was almost completely dark except for a thin rectangle of moonlight coming through a small, barred window high on the wall. I stared at it until my vision cleared. The drop on the other side would be high. Dangerous. Possibly deadly if I landed wrong.

But dawn was coming.

And with dawn, I will be sold off to the old minister as his fourth Wife's.

I forced myself to stand. Every movement hurt. I dragged an empty wooden crate beneath the window, climbed onto it with shaking legs, and reached for the bars. They were old and rusted. I braced my feet and pulled with everything I had left. One bar shifted. Then another. The gap was narrow-barely wide enough for me-but I didn't stop. I shoved my head and shoulders through, skin tearing on the rough stone. I didn't care. Pain was already everywhere. A little more meant nothing.

The night air hit my face, cold and sharp.

I looked down.

The ground was farther than I expected.

I jumped anyway.

The impact stole the breath from my lungs. I hit hard, rolled across the grass, and lay there for several seconds, gasping, certain something was broken. Then I forced myself up. My ankle screamed. My palms were scraped raw. Blood trickled down one knee. I still ran.

I ran into the trees that bordered the eastern edge of the territory, barefoot, beaten, hair roughly shorn, the black dress torn and dirty. Branches clawed at my arms. Roots tried to trip me. I kept going because stopping meant being dragged back to that basement and handed over to a stranger at dawn.

Behind me, the pack house still glowed with celebration lights. Music drifted faintly on the wind. They were still laughing. Still dancing. Still toasting the Alpha Prince who had rejected me in front of everyone.

I didn't look back.

I pushed deeper into the woods until the lights disappeared and the only sound was my own ragged breathing and the distant night insects. My legs finally gave out near a fallen log. I collapsed onto the damp earth, arms wrapped around myself, and cried again-quiet, exhausted tears this time.

I had escaped the basement.

But I had nowhere to go.

No money. No allies. No family who would claim me. My own blood had beaten me, cut off my hair, and tried to sell me to an old man so they would never have to look at me again.

I forced myself to my feet once more, wiped the tears and dirt from my face with a trembling hand, and kept walking into the dark.

I had no plan.

I only knew one thing with absolute certainty.

I would rather die free in these woods than live as the thing they had decided I was.