I had a miscarriage.
It happened after months of stress and exhaustion, juggling long shifts at the clinic and all the endless demands of pack life. I kept pushing myself, wanting to be the strong Luna my husband, Caleb—the Alpha—needed. I thought I could handle it, but I ignored every sign my body was giving me.
Then one evening, I came home feeling weaker than usual, with this deep ache in my stomach. By the next morning, I’d lost the little life I was so excited for.
It’s been two months since then. Two months since I lost the hope of becoming a mom.
I thought Caleb would be there for me through it all. But instead, he got more distant every day. He buried himself in pack duties, leaving me alone in our empty home.
Today was my check-up day, a reminder of what I’d lost—and of the loneliness that followed. Caleb didn’t even ask if I needed a ride. I didn’t bother asking him, either. Pleading for his attention felt pointless now. So I went alone, shuffled through the clinic, and got my test results, all while feeling numb.
While I waited outside for a cab, a message from Caleb popped up: “I have a council meeting. Can you manage on your own?”
Once, I would’ve clung to that message, hoping it meant he still cared, that maybe he just needed a little more time to be the Caleb I knew. But today, I just felt… empty. Nothing.
I texted back a quick “Sure.”
On the way home, I looked out the window and saw Caleb’s car turning into the hospital parking lot. My heart skipped a beat—was he coming to surprise me? But then I saw his face as he got out. He was smiling, looking so… affectionate. And then I saw her.
Hannah.
The woman he’d once loved, who left to marry someone else, but came back to the pack a few weeks ago after her husband passed away. She brought her young son with her—a kid with Caleb’s eyes and hair.
Rumors had started going around the pack since she returned. Whispers that Caleb was spending a lot of time with her, checking in on her and the boy. I ignored it at first, thinking it was just talk. But there they were, standing together, looking like a family.
By the time I got home, I felt like a ghost in my own life. I checked my phone and saw someone had tagged Caleb in a post: “The best Alpha, always looking after us.” The picture was of Hannah, her son in her arms, with Caleb standing close. I see how Caleb had gone with them to the doctor's office to support her son’s check-up.
Wow.
I felt this sharp sting of betrayal. The boy looked so much like him. Seeing them together felt like a slap. For a moment, I even wondered if Caleb was the father, but I quickly shrugged off the thought. It was impossible.
I told myself it was just Caleb being kind because she was going through a hard time. But Caleb had never looked at me like that. Even at our best, he never showed me that kind of warmth.
When he came home that night, he tried to be quiet, like he didn’t want to wake me, but I was already up.
“Sarah,” he whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Did everything go okay at the check-up?”
I could smell her perfume on him, faint but there. I forced myself to look at him and said, “Yes. Everything’s fine.”
He just nodded, clearly distracted. “The pack’s been busy… a lot going on.”
I wanted to ask him if “pack duties” included spending time with Hannah, looking at her like she was his world. But I kept quiet, swallowing down the pain.
“You should get some sleep,” I said quietly. “And maybe take a shower first.”
He hesitated, guilt flashing in his eyes, but he didn’t argue. He just got up and went to the bathroom, the sound of the shower filling the silence around me.
I lay there, listening to the water running in the bathroom, my mind racing with thoughts I didn’t want to have. Caleb had always been my steady support, the one I could count on. But now... now it felt like he was slipping away. It wasn’t just the distance. It was the way he looked at Hannah, like she was everything to him.
I heard the water turn off, and I forced myself to sit up, trying to regain some control. My phone buzzed, pulling me back into reality. A notification—another post.
I opened it.
This time, it wasn’t just a picture of Caleb and Hannah.
It was a video. Caleb... kissing her.
The screen froze, but the image of their lips meeting was seared into my mind. Everything around me seemed to crash down.
I dropped the phone.
