Two months before my due date, a devastating fire consumed our pack house. Ronan, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, ensured the perpetrator—a rogue wolf—was banished from pack territory, but the blaze left me severely injured. My right leg had to be amputated, and the trauma caused complications during childbirth.
While lying in the healing center, I overheard Ronan speaking with Mohammed, the pack’s lead healer.
“Alpha,” Mohammed said, his voice heavy with concern, “your Luna has already lost a leg. If you also remove her uterus, she’ll be devastated. You’re just trying to use the pup’s blood to save Gamma Elia’s pup; do you really have to destroy your mate in the process?”
“It doesn’t matter if she’s devastated,” Ronan replied, his tone cold and unyielding. “I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life. If she finds out this pup was only conceived to save Elia’s child, she would never agree.”
He paused, his voice lowering. “I promised Elia I would save our child. Only when Monroe can no longer have pups, erasing any threat, can Elia truly relax.”
His words struck me like a claw to the chest. So, the pup I had longed for was merely a means to an end—a life sacrificed for someone else’s child. My dream of a family, of a mate bond, was nothing but a carefully constructed lie. Very well, I thought bitterly, I shall fulfill his wishes.
“Just do what I say and remove her uterus completely,” Ronan ordered. “You don’t need to worry about the pup’s survival.”
“When she wakes up, I’ll bring Elia’s pup to her, and she won’t suspect a thing.”
Mohammed glanced at my frail form on the bed, his brow furrowed. “Alpha, perhaps you should reconsider. Your Luna has already suffered enough and lost her chance at motherhood. If you want to save the pup, I’m confident we can do it without harming her further.”
“No need,” Ronan dismissed him coldly. “She doesn’t know Elia’s pup is being born today. I promised Elia I’d bring our child home as the rightful heir of the Silver Moon Pack.”
While he spoke, he gently wiped my fingers with a towel, his voice still tender. “Only when Monroe is out of the picture, with no threat, can Elia see my true feelings for her.”
At that, Mohammed sighed. “Gamma Elia is a good wolf. If not for Luna Monroe’s interference, she could have been your mate today.”
“Take the pup while it’s still breathing,” Ronan instructed. “Make sure no one hears about this.”
Mohammed hesitated but nodded, hurrying out of the room with the pup in his arms.
Ronan made a quick mind link to Edwin, his Beta. “Is everything settled? Give the rogue a couple hundred thousand, and make sure they leave pack territory and never show up in Monroe’s life again.”
I was still under the effects of wolfsbane, unable to move or speak, so Ronan was unaware that I had heard everything. Tears streamed uncontrollably from my eyes, and I trembled with helpless rage.
Five years. I had been bound to Ronan as his mate for five years.
Back then, the Silver Moon Pack was on the brink of collapse. Ronan knelt before my parents, the former Alpha and Luna of the neighboring pack, pleading for me to accept him as my mate.
He had promised me a life of ease, of being the revered Luna of his pack.
He had vowed that while other wolves might stray, he would never betray me.
He filled me with hope for this bond, for this pup.
I had been cautious every day, fearing to even shift into my wolf form for the sake of my unborn pup.
But it was all a lie.
Even that fire was orchestrated by him.
He only wanted my pup’s blood to save Elia’s pup, born with a rare werewolf illness.
And for that, he didn’t hesitate to amputate my leg and remove my uterus.
Every promise of love was a facade.
I struggled to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt heavy, as if weighted down by the crushing betrayal.
“Monroe, sleep a bit longer,” Ronan’s voice murmured softly beside me, as if I were a rare treasure. “By the time you wake, everything will be resolved.”
“You’ll still be the untouchable Luna of the Silver Moon Pack.”
As my consciousness faded, so did my spirit.
---
When I awoke again, I was in the healing center. Ronan sat vigil by my bedside, his expression softening the moment I opened my eyes. “Monroe, are you alright? Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere? I’ll get the healer!”
I stared at him intently. His concern seemed genuine. And that was precisely why my heart shattered. His eyes reflected love as usual, and he acted as if he cared deeply for me. Yet he had hurt me so profoundly for someone else.
I glanced at my missing right leg, the phantom pain coursing through what remained, and my face paled.
Ronan acted oblivious to it, bringing a pup to me: “Monroe, look, here’s our child.”
“She’s a girl, and she’s beautiful. She has a bit of both of us in her.”
The mention of the word ‘pup’ brought tears to my eyes. I hadn’t even seen my own child, the one I carried for eight months, yet never got to meet.
I didn’t respond to him; Ronan assumed I was just worn out and took the pup to play nearby.
I looked at his phone left on the bedside table.
Even the wallpaper was a photo of us together during the pregnancy.
I used to believe he was eagerly anticipating the birth of our pup just as I was.
Now it seemed he was merely celebrating that Elia’s pup could be saved.
I unlocked his screen.
An avalanche of messages appeared.
The top contact was marked as “My Love.”
My Love indeed.
The entire chat was full of their romantic exchange.
Elia constantly complained about the discomfort of her pregnancy and recounted Ronan accompanying her to prenatal appointments.
“Ronan,” she wrote, “the healer says if we can’t find a blood relative’s blood soon, the pup might not survive after birth.”
“Ronan, I know you had no choice but to bond with Monroe. I never expected more; I just wanted to have your pup.”
“Ronan, I know I’m a burden to you, but I love you.”
Every word sliced through me.
Ronan’s replies were brief, only saying: “Don’t worry, I’m here.”
I recalled my early days of pregnancy, when the pup was restless and I couldn’t keep anything down. Later during the second trimester, the pup started moving in my belly, making sleep elusive. Ronan never accompanied me to any prenatal checkups. He only assured me that such discomfort was normal during pregnancy.
Turns out he didn’t ignore the pup’s welfare; he just didn’t care about mine.
He even created a dedicated memo for Elia.
A record of every prenatal checkup, any abnormalities, and detailed preparations, including plans for my premature delivery.
I closed my eyes, allowing the burning tears to flow freely.
I was wrong.
Over the years, I’d been blinded by his insincere love.
I had made a mistake.
I chuckled bitterly at myself, put his phone back, and reached out to my best friend, a skilled healer in a distant pack, asking her to find a way to help me recover.
I wasn’t ready to surrender just yet.
