I sat in my car outside the pack hospital, gripping the steering wheel so hard my fingers went numb. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of anger and desperation swirling inside me. Damon’s words still rang in my head.
"She wasn’t mine, Florence."
How could he say that? How could he throw Alyssa away like she meant nothing?
I took a shaky breath and stepped out of the car, my legs weak but my resolve stronger than ever. If Damon wanted to believe Selena’s lies, then I was going to give him the truth—undeniable proof that Alyssa was his daughter.
The receptionist at the front desk, an omega named Marcie, looked up as I walked in. Her eyes softened with sympathy. “Luna Florence,” she greeted. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. “Thank you, Marcie. I need to access Alyssa’s DNA records.”
Marcie hesitated. “May I ask why?”
I clenched my fists. “Because I need to prove something.”
She didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, she led me to the archive room, where sensitive medical records were stored. My hands shook slightly as I flipped through the files until I found Alyssa’s.
There it was—her DNA sample, taken when she was born for identification purposes, something standard for all pups in the pack. I took a deep breath and turned to Marcie.
“I need a paternity test done. Compare this with Alpha Damon’s DNA.”
Marcie’s eyes widened. “You want to—”
“Yes.” I cut her off before she could say anything. “I need the results as soon as possible.”
She nodded, understanding the urgency in my voice. “I’ll put it in as a priority.”
I sat in the waiting room, staring at the clock. Each second felt like a lifetime. I replayed every moment Damon had with Alyssa—the way he used to hold her, the way she used to run to him with open arms.
And yet, he had walked away.
Three hours later, Marcie returned, holding a folder. She looked nervous. “Luna…”
I grabbed the folder and opened it, my eyes scanning the page.
99.9% match.
My breath hitched. My vision blurred.
Alyssa was his daughter. She was always his daughter.
I let out a hollow laugh, a mix of rage and heartbreak twisting inside me. Selena had poisoned his mind, fed him lies, and he had believed her without question.
I gripped the paper so tightly it crumpled in my hands. My daughter had died thinking her father loved her, when in reality, he had abandoned her.
A fresh wave of pain crashed over me.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to break something.
Instead, I stood up, my whole body trembling.
Damon would regret this.
He would regret everything.
I drove home gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. My mind raced, my heart pounded, and the paternity results sat in the passenger seat like a cruel reminder of Damon’s betrayal.
Alyssa was his. She was always his. And he still chose to abandon her.
The moment I stepped into the house, I went straight to my bedroom and yanked open the closet. I pulled out a suitcase, throwing in clothes without even thinking. I needed to leave. I didn’t know where I was going yet, but I knew one thing—I couldn’t stay here anymore.
Shirt. Jeans. Shoes. Toiletries. Documents.
I moved like a machine, fueled by fury and grief. Damon had left me, abandoned our daughter, and now he was playing house with Selena like I never existed. I refused to stay here like some pathetic, forgotten Luna while they lived happily ever after.
I slammed the suitcase shut, my breath coming out in ragged gasps. My closet was empty, my drawers cleared. I had packed everything I needed, and yet, I still felt like I was leaving something behind.
Because I was.
I was leaving behind the life I had built. The mate I had loved. The family I had fought for.
And for what?
For a man who had chosen her over me. Over us.
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing back the burning in my throat. No more tears. No more crying over Damon. Over that bastard.
Just as I reached for my phone to book a flight, it rang.
I flinched, my heart hammering.
I expected Damon. Maybe even one of the elders.
But when I looked at the screen, my blood ran cold.
Selena.
My fingers hovered over the “Block” button. I should block her. She wasn’t worth my time.
But something in me—maybe the part that wanted to hear just how deep her betrayal ran—made me press “Answer.”
I put the phone to my ear, silent.
And then I heard her laugh.
That sick, twisted laugh that sent rage boiling through my veins.
“Aww, poor little Florence,” she crooned, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “All alone now, huh?”
I gritted my teeth. “What the hell do you want?”
She giggled. “I just wanted to check on you. You know, after your daughter died and your husband left you.”
I saw red.
“Fuck you, Selena,” I snarled. “You’ll regret every single thing you’ve done.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she purred. “I already won. Damon’s mine now. Clara’s his ‘responsibility’ now. And you?” She let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re just the pathetic, bitter ex-Luna who lost everything.”
I clenched the phone so hard I thought it would break. “You think you’ve won?” I hissed. “You think Damon actually loves you?” I let out a humorless laugh. “You’re just his obligation. His pity project. He’ll never love you the way he loved me.”
Her laughter cut through me again, sharp and cruel. “Oh, Florence, don’t be stupid.” She lowered her voice, like she was letting me in on a secret. “Clara wasn’t even that hurt.”
My entire body went still.
“What?”
She giggled. “You heard me. Clara barely had a scratch. We just acted like she was dying, just to see who Damon would run to first.”
The room spun around me.
