Abandoned While Pregnant, Claimed by the Alpha novel Chapter 78

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Once Hebert left the house, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. Honestly, I didn’t know how to deal with him yet. For now, my schedule showed a visit to the Bloodmoon Pack orphanage part of my current responsibilities. I grabbed my car keys and slipped out of the manor as carefully as I could. The crisp morning air carried a faint chill as I started the engine and headed off toward the orphanage.

When I arrived, there was already a small crowd gathered at the entrance. The red recording lights from the cameras blinked steadily, and a few reporters were holding out microphones, encircling a woman dressed in a white suit. Cecilia. Her name hit me like a cold rock sinking into my chest. What was she doing here? Cecilia’s spotless white outfit practically glowed under the sun, almost blinding to look at. She wore a calculated smile, addressing the cameras like an expert speaker.

“I’ve always cared deeply about these children,” she said, her overly sweet tone dripping with manufactured warmth. “It’s our duty to give them the best lives possible.

With practiced elegance, she handed a basket of toys to a little boy standing next to her, radiating the perfect image of compassion. Camera flashes lit up the scene, capturing this heartwarming moment. But as she turned toward another camera, a younger child suddenly reached out, grabbing at the flower embroidery on her skirt. Their dirt–covered fingers left a noticeable brown streak on the pristine fabric.

Cecilia’s smile froze instantly. A sharp, shrill scream escaped her as she jumped back in horror.

“Oh, my God! What did you just do?!” she nearly shrieked, her voice loaded with disgust.

Whipping around, she frantically lowered her voice to hiss at the media crew behind her.

“Cut that! Right now! No one is allowed to show this!” Her face was tight with panic, as if the polished persona she worked so hard to maintain had cracked wide open.

Standing off to the side, I watched everything unfold. The child who had dirtied her dress stood there trembling, tiny face pale and filled with confusion and fear. The sight hit me hard, stirring a pang of something deep in my

chest.

Cecilia’s gaze landed on me just then. Her eyes drifted away from the dirt–streaked skirt she was inspecting and settled on me with a flicker of surprise quickly replaced by obvious displeasure.

“Ashley? What are you doing here?” Her tone was sharp, laced with implicit accusation, like my mere presence was somehow out of line.

I took a step forward, meeting her head–on.

“I’m here to do my job,” I replied, my voice calm but firm.

“As the Luna of the Bloodmoon Pack, it’s my responsibility”

Her lips curled slightly, a wordless expression of disdain.

“Luna?” she sneered, letting the word drip with mockery like it left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Ashley, do you really think slapping on that title means you actually belong here?”

She took a step closer, leaning in just enough to come across as confrontational, almost daring me to back down.

“Let me make one thing clear–these kids know me. I’m here all the time, and they adore me.” Her gaze swept across the nearby children, as if trying to prove a point.

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“To them, I’m the constant, not some sudden ‘Luna‘ showing up out of nowhere.”

With that, she turned back to face the cameras, her demeanor shifting instantly into something polished, almost regal. She reached into her bag and pulled out a hefty book with an elaborately designed dark cover. It looked like some kind of highbrow poetry collection or an overly complicated fairy tale, the kind of book that even adults would struggle to sit through.

Cecilia sat among the kids, her posture poised and elegant. She opened the book and started reading aloud, her voice overly dramatic, stretching out every syllable in an exaggerated tone.

“In the depths of the twilight forest, there lies a forgotten castle, where a sorrowful count resides…”

I glanced at the kids. Their faces were filled with confusion, little heads tilted to the side. One kid let out a big yawn, while another tried to stifle a laugh by covering their mouth, shoulders slightly shaking. Their eyes began to wander–clearly, Cecilia’s reading wasn’t holding their attention.

But Cecilia remained oblivious. She was lost in her own performance, reading with growing intensity as if she were the main star of the story herself.

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