Micah’s POV
Since the day Noah died, my husband, Alpha Renan, never stopped blaming me. He said I killed our son. My two other boys hated me too, convinced it was my fault their youngest brother was gone. Every day, they reminded me of that night. Every whisper in the pack scraped my soul raw.
She killed her own child.
What kind of Luna does that?
What kind of mother?
“Why are you staring at that picture again?” Renan’s voice hit me like a whip as he walked in. “No matter how long you stare at Noah’s face, he’s not coming back—because you killed him!”
I froze, clutching the photo. I hadn’t expected him. He hadn’t shared this room with me since Noah’s death. Three years later, the bed still felt cold. The air still carried his absence.
I placed the picture on the nightstand and stood, my eyes dropping to the floor. I didn’t dare meet his gaze.
Alpha Renan Monreer—leader of the Moonreer Pack. Tall, broad-shouldered, dangerously handsome, feared and admired across the Eastern Realm. Every she-wolf wanted him. Every Alpha bowed to him.
And once upon a time, he was mine.
Twenty years ago, he’d sworn to love me until his last breath. To protect me. To cherish me.
Promises. Empty, beautiful lies.
“Do you need something, Alpha?” I asked quietly, bowing my head.
“The servants said you skipped your duties,” he said, his tone sharp. “And here you are, staring into space. Did I ever tell you to rest in the middle of the day? You killed Noah, Micah. You’ll pay for that every single day you breathe. Now get out there and clean the hall. Beta Maurice wants the house spotless. She hates filth.”
Beta Maurice.
Her name still burned like poison on my tongue. His lover. The woman who replaced me in every way that mattered.
For three long years, I’d watched them together—his soft smiles, his gentle hands, his affection that used to be mine.
Why did I stay? Maybe because I still loved him. Maybe because I thought I deserved this. I hurt him. I hurt my sons. Maybe I really was at fault.
“I’ll clean,” I murmured, my voice shaking.
But inside, my chest ached. I had tried to save Noah. I had fought to keep him breathing, even when my wolf was fading. I would have traded my life for his. But fate didn’t give me that choice.
“If you’re done crying, go cook for us,” Renan said. “Make Maurice’s favorite. She’s pregnant.”
The words sank in slowly. Pregnant.
I lifted my gaze, meeting the ocean-blue eyes I once adored. His calm, cold expression twisted the knife deeper.
Maurice is pregnant.
Maurice is pregnant.
Maurice. Pregnant.
“What’s so shocking?” he sneered. “She’s young, healthy, and beautiful. She smells better, she’s strong, and she knows how to please me.”
I felt my breath hitch. My heart didn’t just break—it disintegrated.
“Look at you, Micah,” he said, his voice dripping with disgust. “You’re old, weak, and pitiful. You reek of failure. A Luna like you is a disgrace. The divorce papers will be ready soon. Sign them, so Maurice can take your place. She’s perfect—strong wolf, powerful family, and she serves the Empress herself.”
Each word cut through my ribs like claws. I wanted to scream, but I knew better. If I spoke, his rage would follow. Ten years of marriage had taught me that silence kept me alive.
He used to say Maurice was just a friend, an ally from BloodCrest Pack. But after Noah… after everything… I realized the truth. He’d betrayed me long before that night.
My world had already fallen apart.
“Father, what’s taking so long? Mom Maurice is waiting for us to fetch her,” said Dylan, my eldest. He stepped into the room, tall and proud, looking every bit like his father except for his violet eyes, the only thing he got from me.
He looked at me like I was something rotten.
“Did she slack off again?” he asked bitterly.
“What else can you expect?” Dominic chimed in, standing beside him. “She let Noah die. She’s selfish and heartless. She deserves to be punished again.”
My boys. My precious sons. The same ones I carried, nursed, and loved. They now looked at me with nothing but hate.
They saw me as nothing.
A monster.
A failure.
A murderer.
And maybe they were right. Maybe I really had no place in their world anymore.
Still, despite all of it—despite the bruises, the cold stares, the endless pain—I loved them.
