The tiny blue baby booties felt like lead in my palm as I tracked Garrett's scent through the dense forest. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat echoing the words I'd rehearsed all morning: "I'm pregnant."
Three months of carrying his pup, and today was finally the day. I'd imagined his face lighting up, his strong arms wrapping around me, protecting us both like he'd promised when we were kids.
"Always protect your wolf, Emily," he'd whispered when he saved me from rogues at eight years old.
Now I was his mate, carrying his heir, and somehow those childhood promises felt hollow.
The scent grew stronger—his distinctive pine and amber mixed with something floral. Something that made my wolf whimper.
"Shh," I whispered to her. "We're almost there."
The trees thinned, revealing a small clearing bathed in afternoon sunlight. And there they were.
Garrett's broad shoulders blocked my view of the girl in his arms, but I didn't need to see her face to know. The floral scent—roses and vanilla—could only belong to one person.
Eliana Carr. The Beta's daughter. His childhood friend. His...
"God, I've missed this," Garrett's voice carried through the still air. "Her scent, her taste..."
My fingers tightened around the baby booties until my knuckles turned white.
"The mate bond is nothing but a burden," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "The Moon Goddess may have chosen her, but I choose you, Eli. I always have."
I stepped closer, my foot snapping a twig. They broke apart, and Eliana's smug face came into view, her lipstick smeared across Garrett's mouth.
"Emily," Garrett's eyes widened, but there was no guilt there. Only annoyance at being caught.
"You're supposed to be at the pack meeting," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
I held up the tiny booties, my voice barely a whisper. "I wanted to tell you first."
Something flickered in his eyes—not joy, not love. Fear.
"Is that...?"
"Two weeks," I managed. "I've been carrying your pup for two weeks."
Eliana laughed, the sound sharp as broken glass. "How sweet. The little Omega managed to get pregnant."
My wolf snarled, but I stepped back, turning toward the pack house. I wouldn't break down here, not in front of them.
---
"Emily, please—just listen!"
I had one bag packed when Luna Catherine burst into our bedroom, her elegant features twisted with worry.
"I'm not staying," I said, zipping the bag closed. "Not after what I saw."
Catherine's eyes fell to the baby booties I'd dropped on the bed. Something shifted in her expression—not surprise, but resignation.
"You know about Eliana," she said softly.
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
"Then you understand what's at stake." She sat beside me, her perfectly manicured hand covering mine. "The pack needs stability. My son needs time to come to his senses."
"He doesn't love me," I whispered. "He never did."
"That doesn't matter!" Catherine's voice hardened. "What matters is the bloodline, the future of this pack. Your pup—my grandchild—deserves better than to be born into a scandal."
I pulled my hand away. "I won't stay where I'm not wanted."
"Two weeks," she pleaded. "Give me two weeks to fix this. For the sake of your unborn child. For the pack."
Something in her desperation made me pause. This woman had always been kind to me, even when others called me "Little Omega" behind my back.
"Two weeks," I agreed, though my wolf howled in protest. "But if he hasn't chosen me by then..."
Catherine nodded, relief washing over her face. "He will. I'll make sure of it."
---
The pack run was mandatory—a show of unity and strength. As future Alpha, Garrett led the charge, his black wolf form majestic against the moonlit forest.
"Run beside me," he commanded, his Alpha tone leaving no room for refusal.
My wolf obeyed before I could protest, moving into position at his right flank. The pack followed behind us, a testament to our supposed harmony.
He'd been attentive all day—touching my arm, bringing me tea, asking about my morning sickness. But his eyes kept drifting to Eliana, who ran further back in the formation.
"She doesn't deserve you," someone whispered as we passed. "The throne is ours."
I glanced at Garrett, but he kept running, his expression unreadable.
Later that night, lying beside him in our bed, I watched his chest rise and fall. He'd faked sleep hours ago, but I couldn't close my eyes.
His phone lit up on the nightstand. Without thinking, I reached for it.
The screen unlocked—he'd never bothered with a passcode around me.
A text from Eliana glowed in the darkness: "She doesn't deserve you. The throne is ours."
I set the phone down, my hand trembling. Two weeks. I'd promised Catherine two weeks.
But as I stared at Garrett's sleeping face, I wondered how much more betrayal I could endure before I broke completely.
My wolf whimpered inside me, already mourning what we'd lost before we'd even had it.
