The day I received the life-changing news from the pack healer, confirming my pregnancy, was the same day my world began to unravel. My best friend, Talia, posted a provocative photo on the Ashenwood Pack’s community board. In it, she posed in a flowing crimson silk dress, showcasing her swollen belly with pride. A powerful, muscular hand, claw marks faintly visible, cradled her stomach. My stomach twisted in knots. The caption read: *"Even in the darkness, love makes you shine. A pup on the way!"*
I scrolled down, my heart in pieces, and commented, "Congratulations." The words felt like poison leaving my fingertips.
Moments later, Talia called me. Her voice was shaky, filled with false regret. "Vivian, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner," she said. "My mate wanted to keep things quiet, but you deserve to know."
As she spoke, I heard it—Eamon’s voice. My Alpha, my mate. He was speaking softly in the background, venom dripping from every word. "She's jealous. She can't carry a pup, so seeing someone else pregnant drives her crazy. No wonder she can't conceive with all that negativity."
They laughed together, as though my pain was nothing but a joke. I pretended not to hear, my throat tight with emotion.
"Congrats again, Talia," I whispered, hanging up before the sobs clawing at my throat could escape.
Five minutes later, another post from Talia appeared. This time, it read: *"Soon, I’ll have two strong Alphas to protect me!"* And there, at the bottom of the post, was the most painful thing of all—Eamon, my mate, had liked it.
That voice... the hand in the picture… the man she was boasting about was Eamon. I knew it as surely as I knew my own heartbeat.
When Eamon arrived at the den that evening, he found me sitting by the hearth, staring into the flames, numb with disbelief. His eyes grazed over me with casual indifference.
"Throwing a fit over something trivial again?" he asked, amusement dancing in his cold, grey eyes.
I looked up, keeping my voice steady. "What do you mean?"
He chuckled darkly. "You’re overreacting. But I don’t care, Vivian. Do whatever you want. You’re the one who’s desperate, not me."
I took a deep breath, the words I wanted to say—the news of our pup growing in my womb—suddenly lodged in my throat. But before I could speak, Eamon handed me a small, dark wooden box. I opened it to find a pair of worn-out silver combat boots, the kind we used to wear in training. They were scuffed and scratched, no longer fit for a Luna.
"Someone special inspired me to get these for you," he muttered, avoiding my eyes.
My stomach churned. "Who’s this someone?" I asked, staring him down.
He shifted uncomfortably. "That’s none of your business."
My hand trembled, but I kept my voice low and lethal. "Who is she, Eamon?" My gaze burned into him, demanding the truth.
His shoulders tensed, his bravado faltering for the first time. "Stop this," he growled. "I’ve told you before—"
"Who *is* she?!" I roared, rising to my feet, my wolf bristling beneath my skin, ready to unleash her fury.
His face twisted in frustration. "Talia. You know it already, don’t you?"
My heart shattered at the confirmation. “Talia?” My best friend. My Alpha. Both of them betraying me. "Eamon... how could you?" My voice broke as the pain surged through me.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, avoiding my gaze. "I need a pup, Vivian. Talia can give me what you can’t. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be."
Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "So you betray your mate—your Luna—for her?" I whispered.
He looked at me with chilling detachment. "I’m doing what’s best for the pack."
Minutes before he came home, Talia had posted another message: *"To the Alpha who takes care of me and our future pup, thank you for your love. It gives me the strength to stand tall!"*
I couldn’t take it anymore. I pushed the box of boots aside. Eamon’s face hardened in frustration. "Vivian, you’re almost thirty moons old. You haven’t given me an heir. And now, instead of being grateful for the truth, you’re making this more difficult."
His words were like daggers, each one piercing deeper into my heart. In his anger, Eamon tossed the box at me. The wooden corner hit me squarely on the temple.
I winced, holding my head as blood rushed to the surface, a dull ache spreading through my skull.
Eamon’s eyes widened, his anger fading to guilt. "I didn’t mean to do that. Let me—"
"Don’t touch me," I muttered, pulling away from his outstretched hand.
Ignoring me, he moved closer, pulling my hand away to examine the swelling. His expression darkened. "This isn’t fine. Stay here. I’ll get some ice."
As he turned to leave, his phone buzzed. The screen lit up, revealing a name that stabbed me straight through the heart—*“Little Wolf”*.
"Talia," he answered immediately, his voice soft and affectionate.
"Eamon, my Alpha," I heard her whimper, "my stomach hurts. I think something’s wrong. I’m scared."
Eamon tensed, his protective instincts kicking in. "Why didn’t you call me sooner? I told you I’d take you to the healer."
"I didn’t want to trouble you. I know you’re with Vivian," she sniffled.
"Talia, nothing’s more important than you and the pup. Send me your location, and I’ll come get you."
I watched him, frozen, as he reassured her, his voice filled with a care and gentleness he hadn’t shown me in moons.
Before he left, I handed him something he always kept for Talia—her healer’s pass. "You’ll need this," I said, my voice hollow.
Eamon’s expression softened for a moment, surprised by my gesture. "Thanks," he murmured, taking the pass from my hand.
He looked like he wanted to say something more, but I didn’t let him. "Take care of her," I said, turning away, my heart heavy with the weight of betrayal.
As he left the den, I knew that the bond between us—once sacred, once unbreakable—had been severed. And deep inside, beneath the sorrow and pain, something else stirred.
Freedom.
