Chapter 38: Where am I gonna go?

Everyone looked at Eiravelle in disgust. Gossip always travels faster than the speed of light, spreading through the streets and alleyways of Solkanaia like wildfire, consuming everything in its path.

The news of her disgrace had already reached the ears of the common people before she had even crossed the threshold of her former home, carried by servants who had witnessed her humiliation and who wasted no time in sharing the scandal with anyone who would listen.

The words passed from mouth to mouth, growing more twisted and cruel with each retelling, until the truth of what had happened was buried beneath layers of exaggeration and spite.

"That omega is impure!" Someone yelled from the crowd that had gathered near the gates, their voice was dripping with contempt. The words were sharp, cutting through the morning air like a blade, and Eiravelle felt them strike her with a force that made her stumble.

"Yeah! She is to be thrown away! She is dirty!" Another voice joined in, and soon the air was filled with jeers and insults, each one was sharper than the last, each one cut deeper into Eiravelle’s already wounded heart. They spat at her feet as she walked past, their salivas are landing on the hem of her dress, and Eiravelle flinched with every step she took.

She felt like these people were dissecting her entire being, peeling away layer after layer of her dignity until nothing was left but a hollow shell, an empty vessel that had once held hope and dreams and now held only shame.

The weight of their stares pressed down on her shoulders, making it difficult to breathe, making it difficult to think. She wanted to cover her ears, wanted to block out the voices that surrounded her, but she knew it would do no good. The words were already inside her, burrowing into her mind like parasites, feeding on her fear and her guilt.

"Have you heard what happened?" A woman whispered to her companion, though the whisper was loud enough for Eiravelle to hear. The woman’s eyes were wide with scandalized delight, the kind of expression that came from someone who thrived on the misfortune of others. "I heard from a servant in Arthion Manor that she was pregnant... And she doesn’t know who the alpha was. Can you imagine how disgraceful that is?"

The words hit Eiravelle like a physical blow, and she stumbled, nearly losing her footing on the uneven cobblestones. She had known that word would spread, had understood that her shame would become public knowledge.

But hearing it spoken aloud, hearing the disgust and judgment in the woman’s voice, made it real in a way that nothing else had. It was no longer just her secret, her shame to bear in private. It was public now, a spectacle for everyone to gawk at and condemn.

"Yes," the companion replied, shaking her head with a look of pity that was somehow worse than the contempt. "She already brought so much shame to their family back when she was a kid. She’s still not growing up."

They continued to murmur among themselves, their voices were rising and falling like waves crashing against a shore. Every word was a stone thrown at her, every whisper was a knife twisting in her chest.

Eiravelle could feel the tears streaming down her face, hot and bitter, but she could not stop them. She had held herself together through her father’s rejection, had maintained some semblance of composure as she walked away from the only home she had ever known.

But this, this public humiliation, this complete and utter destruction of her reputation, was more than she could bear.

She walked away, her steps were unsteady, her vision became blurred by tears. She wanted to run, wanted to escape the hateful stares and the whispered insults, but her body felt heavy, weighed down by grief and exhaustion. She could only manage a slow, shuffling pace, each step was carrying her further away from the manor but not nearly far enough from the pain.

The faces around her blurred together, a sea of strangers who had already decided who she was and what she deserved. They did not know her. They did not know the circumstances of her life, the pain she had endured, and the mistakes she had made in moments of weakness. They only knew the scandal, the shame, the story that had been passed from mouth to mouth.

Then the alphas approached.

"Hey! Little omega, come and play with us too!" One of them called out, his voice was dripping with mockery. He was young, perhaps a few years older than Eiravelle, with a smirk on his face that made her skin crawl. His companions laughed behind him, their eyes are roaming over her with a hunger that made Eiravelle’s blood run cold.

The group of them laughed, their voices was loud and raucous, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. They had seen her vulnerability, had recognized her as prey, and they were closing in for the kill.

Eiravelle had seen that look before, had learned to recognize it as a warning sign, a signal that danger was near. But she had never felt as vulnerable as she did now, never felt as exposed and defenseless.

She got scared.

The fear was primal, instinctive, a survival mechanism that kicked in before her mind could even process what was happening. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath was coming in short, sharp gasps. She did not think. She did not hesitate. She simply ran.

She ran faster than she ever could, her legs are pumping beneath her, her arms are pumping at her sides. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, but more kept falling, blurring her vision as she fled through the streets.

She could hear footsteps behind her, could hear the laughter of the alphas who had decided to pursue her, and her heart raced with terror. She did not know where she was going, did not know where she could find safety. She only knew that she had to keep moving.

She knew she had to get to safety. She could not afford to stay in a crowd with some alphas knowing she was pregnant, knowing she had no alpha to protect her, knowing she had been disowned and cast out.

If this continued, the common people would take her as a common whore, would assume she would work her body for every alpha just to survive. The thought made her stomach turn, made her want to stop and vomit on the side of the road.

I have to protect my child no matter what the cost.

The words ran through her mind as she ran faster than she ever could, her heart was pounding against her ribs and her lungs are burning with the effort of breathing. She thought of the life growing inside her, the tiny spark of existence that depended entirely on her.

She thought of the future she had imagined, the future that had been ripped away from her in a single moment of recklessness. She had been foolish, had been reckless, had made a mistake that would haunt her for the rest of her life. But the child inside her was innocent, was blameless, deserved none of the shame and cruelty being heaped upon its mother.

She would protect it. She would fight for it. She would do whatever it took to ensure that it had a chance at life.

Even if it meant sacrificing everything she had.

The streets of Solkanaia were crowded, filled with merchants hawking their wares and citizens going about their daily business. Eiravelle dodged between them, her movements are frantic and desperate, her eyes are scanning for any sign of safety.

She turned down an alleyway, hoping to lose them in the maze of narrow streets and hidden passages.

The alleyway was dark and damp, the walls are pressing in on either side. She could smell the stench of garbage and decay, could hear the scuttling of rats in the shadows. But she did not care. She only cared about putting as much distance as possible between herself and everyone.

She reached the end of the alleyway and found herself in a small courtyard, surrounded by buildings that seemed to lean inward, their windows dark and empty. There was a well in the center of the courtyard, its stone walls covered in moss, and a few wooden benches scattered around the edges.

Eiravelle collapsed onto one of the benches, her body was trembling with exhaustion and fear. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to make herself as small as possible, and let the tears fall freely. She had never felt so alone, so utterly and completely abandoned.

She thought of her older sister, Arielle, who had always protected her, who had stood between her and their father’s wrath more times than she could count. She thought of the way Arielle had looked at her when she had admitted the truth, the pain and sorrow in her eyes.

She thought of the way her father had dragged her through the manor, had thrown her into the dirt like garbage, had disowned her in front of everyone. She thought of the child growing inside her, the child that would never know its Alpha, the child that would grow up in a world that would judge it for the circumstances of its birth.

And she wept. "Where am I gonna go?"

She wept for the innocence that she had given freely, for the shame that would follow her for the rest of her days. The tears fell freely, carving tracks through the dirt on her cheeks, and her body shook with the force of her grief.

She did not know how long she sat there, did not know how much time had passed. The sun moved across the sky, casting shifting shadows across the courtyard, and still she wept.

But even as she wept, even as her body shook with the force of her grief, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind. It was a voice she had heard before, a voice that had guided her through the darkest moments of her life.

You are stronger than you know.

She had heard those words from her older sister, years ago. You are stronger than you know. You are braver than you believe. You are loved more than you can imagine.

Eiravelle took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped the tears from her face. She could not give up. She could not surrender to despair. She had a child to protect, a future to build, a life to live. She would survive. She would endure. And one day, she would find a place where she belonged.