The Pregnant Footstool, Death By Toxin

It was Celine's birthday gala. Just because she frowned slightly while stepping down from the carriage, Alaric forced me to kneel.

He wanted me to be her human footstool.

He didn't care that I was six months pregnant with his child.

As the blood began to pool beneath me, Alaric didn't even look back. He simply sneered, "She is just a plaything I kept on a whim. Don't be so dramatic. You're getting Celine's shoes dirty."

While they celebrated all night, I was left to find my own way back to t