Zera’s POV
My room smelled faintly of lavender and dust, the scent of a home that no longer felt like mine.
The sun had barely risen when I began to pack. I folded dresses that had once made me feel beautiful, pressed down coats that still carried Jeremiah’s scent, and stacked the life I’d built here into neat, fragile piles. Every movement was deliberate, mechanical.
Seven days. That’s all I had before I walked out of Moonshadow Pack for good.
As I crouched by the bottom drawer, something caught my eye, a folded piece of paper sticking out from the corner. I reached for it, frowning. Then another, and another. Soon, I realized it wasn’t just one, it was a small stack of drawings, crumpled but colorful.
I sat on the floor, my knees drawn to my chest, and slowly unfolded the first one.
It was Annie’s drawing.
The stick figures were crooked and bright with color. There was me, wearing a blue dress. Jeremiah, drawn taller, with messy brown hair and a big smile. And between us, a small girl with golden hair and wide eyes. Annie had drawn herself holding both our hands.
The title at the top read: My Family.
My vision blurred. I lifted another one, this time, the three of us standing under a moon, surrounded by wolves. She had written the words Our Pack Will Always Be Together.
I pressed the paper to my chest, a sob catching in my throat. “Oh, my sweet girl…” My voice cracked.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I gathered all her drawings in my arms. There were so many, little pieces of her imagination, her dreams, her love. Every page was a memory, every crayon stroke a heartbeat of the daughter I’d lost.
Except she wasn’t lost.
Her heart was still beating, inside the woman who destroyed me. My chest tightened painfully.
I didn’t even notice the door open until a deep voice interrupted the silence.
“Zera?”
I stiffened, quickly wiping my tears. Alpha Jeremiah stood at the doorway, tall and composed, his scent filling the room, that familiar mix of pinewood and smoke that once made me feel safe.
Now it only made me sick.
He glanced around, his eyes landing on the open suitcases and the scattered papers on the floor. “What are you doing? What’s all this?”
I forced a smile, keeping my tone even. “Just rearranging my closet.”
His brows furrowed. “Rearranging? It looks like you’re moving out.”
“If I were,” I said softly, folding another piece of clothing, “would it matter?”
He hesitated, but before he could answer, another scent invaded the air, sweet, floral, nauseatingly familiar.
Hannah. I froze. My hands curled into fists as she stepped into the room behind him, her belly barely showing but glowing with arrogance. The mate bond between Jeremiah and me pulsed painfully, warning me of the betrayal standing beside him.
Every part of me screamed to lunge, to rip her apart, to tear that stolen heart from her chest, my daughter’s heart.
But I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
Instead, I lifted my gaze, meeting hers. My voice came out cold. “Why is she here?”
Jeremiah shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “Hannah will be staying with us for a while.”
The words didn’t make sense at first. I blinked slowly, my mind struggling to process them. “What?”
“She’s… she’s pregnant,” he said finally, his tone careful, as if waiting for me to explode.
I looked at him, then at her. Hannah’s lips curved into a shy smile, her hands resting over her stomach.
My heart went silent. Then, quietly, I said, “And?”
Hannah’s smile faltered. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”
I laughed under my breath, the sound sharp and bitter. “Happy?” I echoed. “Yeah, sure.”
Jeremiah’s expression hardened. “Zera, that’s enough. Why are you even acting this way? You should be happy your bestfriend is expecting a baby.”
“Are you sure that baby isn’t yours, Alpha? Because you seem so concern,” I said, standing now, meeting his eyes head-on.
His aura flared, the weight of his Alpha power pressing into the room. “No. I don’t know what the heck you are talking about. Hannah needs us, that’s why I offered our home,” he said firmly. “There’s no one else to take care of her. She’s carrying life.”
I clenched my jaw. “And that’s supposed to make me agree with this setup?”
He growled softly, frustration flashing in his eyes. “I’m not a monster, Zera. I won’t turn her away just because of your bitterness.”
My laugh came out like a blade. “Bitterness? That’s what you call it, Alpha?”
“You’re jealous,” he shot back. “Hannah’s pregnant, and instead of being happy for her, you’re acting like—”
“Like what?” I interrupted sharply. What kind of monster prioritizes his mistress’s life over his own daughter? I wanted to ask him that question, but I stopped myself.
For a moment, the air between us froze.
His gaze darkened dangerously. “You’re really hardheaded. Aren’t you concern? If you’re such a lacking mother before, don’t project your insecurities to Hannah who only wants the best for her baby.”
I swallowed hard after hearing that, lowering my tone, forcing control. “Never mind,” I muttered, turning away, “you should let her rest. That’s what I said.”
My wolf stirred restlessly, warning me to tread carefully. I couldn’t let him know I’d overheard everything. Not yet.
Hannah’s voice broke the tension. “Luna, I didn’t mean to—”
I turned to her slowly, my eyes cold. “Just do what you want.” After all, it seemed like I didn’t have any say on this.
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She looked to Jeremiah for help, but he only sighed, stepping between us.
“Enough,” he said firmly. “Hannah will stay here, and that’s final. You’ll treat her with respect. She’s family.”
Family. The word made bile rise in my throat.
I nodded stiffly. “Just like I said, fine.” My voice was calm, detached, the calm before the storm. “If that’s what you want, Alpha.”
Jeremiah frowned at the title. He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t let him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I said, bending down to pick up Annie’s drawings, “I have to finish rearranging my closet.”
He hesitated again, but when he saw the cold finality in my eyes, he turned and led Hannah out of the room.
As the door closed behind them, I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Just seven more days, and I’d be gone. Gone from this cursed pack. Gone from this man who once made me believe in forever. Gone from the woman who carried my daughter’s heart and called it her own.
