The day I left the pack’s healing den, I unexpectedly saw Alpha Grant with Harlow at the prenatal clinic. Watching him support her with that tender smile felt like a blade twisting in my chest. When he turned and noticed me, surprise flickered across his face, but he quickly masked it. We played our parts as strangers, exchanging polite words in front of Harlow. It was a stark contrast to the scene later, when he lost his composure after seeing me in Axel’s arms on the street.

After spending days recovering in the healing den, I was finally ready to leave. I had arranged for a decent outfit to be brought to me, determined to shed the lingering scent of illness that clung to me. Carrying a small bag of my belongings, I walked out of the den, the crisp air hitting my face.

"Alpha Grant!"

A voice I recognized all too well made me freeze. My heart clenched as I turned toward it. Not far off stood Harlow, her arm linked with Grant’s, his hand resting gently on her belly, protective of the new life growing within her. The sight was a brutal reminder of everything I had lost. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

That’s when Grant noticed me. His body tensed, and his eyes locked with mine. Harlow followed his gaze, her smile softening as she turned back to him. "Do you know her?" she asked, her voice light and curious.

Grant nodded, his tone carefully neutral. "Yes, we trained together in our youth."

"Should we go say hello?" Harlow suggested, her hand still resting on her belly.

They walked toward me, their closeness making me feel like an outsider in my own life.

"It’s been a while," I managed to say, my voice strained. I was painfully aware of how awkward I must have looked, my pallor still evident despite my efforts. Grant didn’t pry, sticking to small talk.

"How have you been?" he asked, his tone polite but distant.

"Okay," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

My eyes flicked to Harlow’s belly, and I forced a smile. "I’ve got to go. Take care, and… all the best."

With that, I turned and walked away quickly, my heart pounding. Even though the healer had advised against overexertion, I couldn’t stand there and watch Grant share a bond with Harlow that I had never been allowed to have.

I knew her—Harlow Graham, the Delta Grant had admired since their youth. She was carrying his pup now. Clutching my own stomach, I found a bench in a nearby park and sat down, my hands trembling.

Just ten days ago, I had been shopping in the pack’s marketplace when the elevator broke down, forcing me to take the stairs. As I descended from the fourth floor, someone shoved me from behind. I lost my footing and tumbled down, hitting my head and feeling the world spin into darkness.

When I woke up, the healer told me I had lost the pup—over a month along, and I hadn’t even known. There was no one to care for me, no one to call.

Grant was out of the question. He had always been distant, our only contact at night when he insisted on holding me as he slept. He was away on pack business, likely unconcerned with my whereabouts. I had survived those ten days alone, relying on the kindness of the healers and the occasional visit from Amanda, an Omega who worked in the Duncan household.

Eventually, I gathered my strength and made my way out of the healing den, arranging for a ride back to the packhouse.

When I returned to that cold, empty home, Grant wasn’t there. He was probably still with Harlow, as usual. The house felt more like a prison than a sanctuary, and I couldn’t shake the heaviness in my chest.

Exhausted, I headed upstairs to shower and rest.

But as I stepped out of the bathroom, I nearly collided with Grant coming up the stairs. I instinctively stepped back, wary of irritating him.

"What were you doing at the healing den today?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly soft.

He never asked such things, and I hesitated, unsure how to respond. His slight smile reminded me of the tenderness he had shown Harlow earlier.

"I was picking up herbs for my father," I lied, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.

Grant seemed to accept my answer, his expression softening. "Take care of yourself," he murmured as he brushed past me.

I nodded silently, retreating to my room. As I lay down, he entered moments later, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close.

"You’ve lost weight," he said, his breath warm against my ear. "Have you been eating properly?"

I nodded again, keeping my eyes closed, unwilling to let him see the pain he caused.

"Take care of yourself," he whispered again, his voice softer now. "Your family wouldn’t understand otherwise."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. I stayed silent, my heart aching as I drifted into a restless sleep.

I was handed over to Alpha Grant Duncan by my parents because he was the only one who could secure our family’s standing within the Crimson Fang Pack. I was still in college when they informed me during Thanksgiving that the next day, I would be mated to him. My protests were futile; perhaps it’s more accurate to say I didn’t protest at all.

That was the first time I saw Alpha Grant since graduating high school. He sat on the couch, his broad shoulders and imposing frame dominating the room. His sharp, commanding gaze briefly flicked up to me, and I felt the weight of his alpha aura press down on me like an invisible hand tightening around my neck. He was the Alpha, high and mighty, while I was just an Omega, a nominal mate with no real power. I couldn’t interfere with his life, even when I found out in our first week of mating that he was seeing another wolf—Harlow Graham, a Delta from his own pack. I couldn’t call home to complain because my parents were the biggest beneficiaries of my mating to Alpha Grant.

I felt the constant warmth of his presence behind me when a hand suddenly rested on my stomach, unmoving, just lingering there. This simple act brought back the image of Alpha Grant in the healing den today, his hand gently placed on Harlow’s stomach as she carried his pup. A wave of nausea hit me.

I placed my hand over his and gently moved it away. “It’s a bit warm; let’s just keep a bit of distance,” I suggested.

Instead, Alpha Grant held me tighter, his deep voice rumbling against my back. “Are you not feeling well? You looked pale today. Did you fall ill while I was away on pack business?”

As he spoke, his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. “Let’s get some sleep.”

At least it wasn’t back on my stomach. I fought the growing unease inside me, trying to lull myself into sleep with a mental refrain: *Fall asleep, fall asleep.*

Eventually, I drifted off, a fog of disorientation enveloping me. In my dreams, I recalled the first time Alpha Grant held me while we slept. I’d blushed fiercely, lying stiff as a statue in his arms while he chuckled softly, “Don’t be so tense, just sleep.”

Only a week later did I discover he’d met up with Harlow the morning after. It struck me: perhaps he only needed a companion for sleep and nothing more. In my naivety, I had thought there could be love after mating.

The next morning, Alpha Grant had already left, as he always did. After freshening up, I went downstairs to make myself some lunch. Unexpectedly, Amanda Hall was there. She was the only one among the pack staff who treated me as if I mattered.

“Amanda,” I greeted.

She looked up and smiled warmly at me. “Oh, Luna Xyla, the elder Leyla is visiting today, so I came by to check if anything’s needed.”

Alpha Grant’s mother was coming over. I nodded in acknowledgment.

“Are you having lunch, Luna Xyla? I can make something for you.”

When Amanda offered, there was no changing her mind. I thanked her with a smile and took a seat in the living room to wait.

Before long, she brought over a bowl of pasta. “Here you go, Luna Xyla. I’ve added some extra seafood for you. You don’t look too well; I’ll make you some chicken soup for dinner.”

Her hand gently patted my head before she returned to her duties. I took a bite of the pasta and paused. The taste was so familiar.

On our first mating anniversary, I had prepared a gift and waited for Alpha Grant all day. But by ten o’clock at night, he still hadn’t come home. I knew he was likely with Harlow, having completely forgotten the significance of the day. Exhausted, I went to bed past midnight, still no sign of him.

The next morning, Amanda had watched over a bowl of pasta, waiting for me to wake up. “Luna Xyla, you’re finally up. Alpha Grant made this for you himself. He returned very late last night and had to rush off to pack duties this morning, but he made sure to leave this for you.”

I ate that bowl of pasta while crying, foolishly believing I still held a place in Alpha Grant’s heart. But Amanda’s well-intentioned lie was revealed today by her own doing. Alpha Grant probably never came home that night, but she’d felt sorry for me waiting all day and made up the story to comfort me.

I shook my head to clear the thoughts and finished my meal, washing the dishes in the kitchen. Then I heard the sound of the door opening. Curiosity got the better of me, and I peeked out to see Alpha Grant had returned.

He seemed ready to march straight upstairs but changed course when he saw me. His presence exuded an intimidating aura, anger rolling off him as he approached.

Startled, I took an involuntary step back. “Xyla, are you hiding something from me?” he demanded, his alpha tone sharp and commanding.

Hearing him call my name made me shiver. He rarely used my full name, only when he was serious, usually on the verge of anger. Like when I foolishly asked him to stop seeing Harlow.

“What?” I asked, trying to maintain my composure.

He stepped forward, grabbing my wrist, the other hand landing on my stomach. At that instant, I knew he was aware of my miscarriage.

“When did you get pregnant? Did you go behind my back?”

His first concern upon learning of my miscarriage was how I’d gotten pregnant in the first place. I let out a bitter laugh, pondering how my mating over the past two years had become nothing but a joke.