I had spent years making sure Jace never felt the pain in his damaged shoulder and Owen never missed the medicine that kept him safe.

When Jace had nothing, I sold my mother's silver moon bracelet so he could heal, and he swore I would never have to lower my head in our home.

When he became Alpha, he called me the woman who had built the throne beside him.

By the time Talia came back, I was still setting the breakfast table while my husband and son laughed with another woman in my chair.

That morning, I checked Owen's medicine card, warmed Jace's shoulder wrap, and found my mug already in Talia's hands.

Jace told me not to make a guest feel unwelcome.

Then he asked me to bring his old leather strategy book from our room.

The ultrasound photo I had hidden inside slipped onto the table.

Talia picked it up before I could reach it.

"You're pregnant?" she asked.

"Maya, why didn't you tell me?" Jace said.

"Don't worry, I would never come between your family," Talia murmured.

Owen laughed. "You already feel more like family than Mom does."

***

A fourth place setting occupied my usual seat at the breakfast table. Talia leaned back against the mahogany wood, sipping dark roast from my white porcelain cup—the one stamped with the Luna moon-crest.

"The eastern trails are perfect for riding today, Owen," she told my son, flashing a bright smile. "We can take the chestnut geldings."

I did not ask her to move. Instead, I walked around her chair and slid Owen's plastic daily pillbox next to his plate of scrambled eggs. Then, I dropped a steaming heat pack onto Jace's left shoulder.

My husband winced, a reflex from the winter before he took the Alpha title. I had pawned my mother's silver moon bracelet to buy his painkillers back then, keeping him warm when we had nothing. Now, he barely nodded at me. His gaze remained fixed entirely on Talia.

"Ten days," I said, keeping my tone flat. "You said you only needed the guest room for a week, Talia."

Jace shoved his plate aside, the ceramic scraping harshly against the wood. "She just got back. Do you have to calculate everything so clearly?"

"I'm just asking for a timeline," I replied.

"Mom just likes making rules," Owen muttered, stabbing his fork into a sausage. "She hates when people have fun."

I stared at my ten-year-old son. He was already mirroring his father, learning exactly how to frame my boundaries as a nuisance.

"Can we go to the track now?" Owen asked, tugging on Talia's sleeve. "I want to ride the big horses."

"Your science project is still under the sofa," I told him, pointing toward the living room. "Finish it first. It's due on Monday."

Talia rested her chin on her hand, her eyes crinkling in amusement. "A few hours of relaxing won't ruin his life, Maya. Kids need to breathe."

"Let the boy go," Jace agreed, waving a dismissive hand at me. "Go grab your boots, Owen."

Owen cheered and threw his arms around Talia's neck.

I picked up the blue medical pouch from the counter and held it out. "Take your backup allergy meds."

Owen rolled his eyes, groaning loudly. "I don't need them. She'll take care of me."

Talia reached over and took the pouch, swinging it by the strap. "I've got it covered, Maya. Relax."

"Which pocket has the epinephrine?" I asked.

Talia blinked, her smile faltering. Her fingers fumbled over the nylon zippers. "Um, the front one? Or the side?"

I snatched the pouch back and checked the compartments myself, ensuring the auto-injectors were secured. "Care isn't a performance. One mistake costs him a trip to the ER."

"It's just a quick trip to the stables," Talia argued softly. "I'll keep a close eye on him."

"A close eye doesn't stop anaphylaxis," I said. "He needs the injection within seconds if he touches the wrong feed."

Jace's expression hardened into ice. He slammed his hand flat on the table. "Don't pass your anxiety to the kid. You're suffocating him."

He stood up, towering over the dining space. "Go get my old leather strategy notebook from the bedroom. I want to show Talia the Pack's rebuilding map before we head out."

I turned and walked down the hall, leaving the three of them whispering behind my back. The worn leather binder sat on his nightstand. It held more than just maps. It contained our old overdue bills, his handwritten vows from eight years ago, and the glossy ultrasound photo I had hidden inside the front cover.

When I returned to the dining room, I handed the binder across the table. The worn spine slipped against my fingers. The ultrasound photo slid from the pages and fluttered to the hardwood floor, landing face up.

Talia swooped down before I could reach it. She stared at the black-and-white image, her eyes scanning the printed name and date at the top corner.

"Maya," Talia asked, her voice dropping to a hushed whisper. "Are you pregnant?"

Jace's careless posture vanished. The annoyance drained from his face, replaced by pure shock. He lunged forward, reaching for the glossy paper.

I snatched it from Talia's grip first and slid it into my pocket. "I planned to announce it at the family moon dinner next week."

Owen did not jump up. He did not smile. He looked at Talia, then scowled at me. "Does a new baby mean you're going to control me even more? Are you going to make more rules?"

Talia touched Owen's arm gently, offering him a sympathetic look. "Your mom will be very tired soon, sweetie. We should all give way to her more."

I tightened my grip on the edge of the table. She was already framing my pregnancy as a burden, setting the stage for every future discomfort to be treated as an inconvenience to them.

Jace turned on his heel and marched toward the kitchen. I followed him, letting the swinging door shut behind us.

"Three weeks," Jace demanded, his voice dropping to a harsh, accusing whisper. "Why did you hide this for three weeks?"

"I wanted a moment that belonged just to the three of us," I answered, meeting his angry stare. "I wanted to tell you and Owen when we were alone."

Jace scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Or did you wait for Talia to return just to announce it and make me look bad? Did you plan to drop this right when she was getting settled?"

"You think I timed my pregnancy around your guest?" I asked.

"You always do this," Jace muttered. "You weaponize everything. You couldn't just let us have a peaceful morning."

The words struck deep, burying themselves in my chest. He did not ask how I felt. He did not ask if I was healthy, or if the morning sickness was severe. My child was nothing more than a prop in his mind, a tool I was supposedly using to compete for attention.

I did not cry. I did not raise my voice to defend myself.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened the Pack's family portal.

"What are you doing?" Jace asked, stepping closer. "Don't ignore me, Maya."

I tapped Talia's profile on the screen. I unchecked her access to the medical cabinet. I deleted her from Owen's emergency contact list, confirming the prompt with a firm press of my thumb.

Then, I opened my own medical file. I scrolled past the Alpha Auto-View setting and switched it to Authorized Only.

Jace's phone chimed in his pocket, a sharp, piercing notification.

He pulled it out, his eyes scanning the glowing screen. The irritation on his face slowly melted into stark realization. He stared at me, his jaw slackening as he finally understood that I was not fighting over a seat at the breakfast table.

I locked my screen and slipped the phone away.

"Since you think I'm always exaggerating," I said, "from today on, my body isn't yours to judge."

"You're using our son's safety as a weapon in a marital spat, Maya."

Jace stood by the kitchen island, adjusting the silver watch on his wrist. He offered no apology for the previous night's argument. Instead, he framed my decision to lock Talia out of the digital medical cabinet as an act of petty jealousy.

I ignored his accusation and turned my attention to our son. "Tell me the three locations for your allergy medication, Owen."

Owen slumped over his bowl of oatmeal, dragging his metal spoon through the thick oats. "The kitchen drawer. My school locker."

Talia sat in my usual chair, sipping dark roast coffee. She offered Owen a warm, reassuring smile. "I'll remember the third one for you, sweetie. You don't have to memorize everything."

"I am not trusting his life to a guest who moved into this house ten days ago," I said, keeping my focus locked on my son. "Where is the third location, Owen?"

Owen slammed his spoon into the ceramic bowl. Milk splashed onto the polished granite counter, dripping onto the hardwood floor. "You just hate her because she's actually fun! She doesn't treat me like a baby!"

"Knowing where your medicine is kept is not treating you like a baby," I replied. "It is keeping you alive."

Jace simply sighed, leaning his hip against the counter and crossing his arms. "Don't try to win arguments in front of the kid, Maya. It's exhausting."

"I am not trying to win an argument," I said. "I am trying to ensure he knows how to survive an allergic reaction."

I did not waste another breath explaining myself. I pulled a black marker from the utility drawer and wrote today's date on the emergency index card taped inside the cabinet door. I slid the card across the island until the sharp edge touched Jace's knuckles.

"From today on, you are responsible for knowing these locations," I told my husband, staring directly into his eyes. "I will not always be the backup system for this family."

Four hours later, the Pack clinic doors slammed open.

Talia lay on the sterile examination bed, a clear oxygen mask strapped over her pale face. The heart monitor beeped in a rapid, frantic rhythm. On the metal tray beside her rested her leather riding bag, unzipped to reveal a bright yellow trainer pen—an empty plastic shell used for practice injections.

The real epinephrine injector was gone.

Clara, our head maid, stepped into the room holding a torn foil wrapper. Her hands shook as she held it out. "Alpha, I found this shoved into the back of the Luna's storage cabinet."

Jace snatched the wrapper from Clara's hands. He crumpled the foil in his fist and dropped it onto the metal tray. He turned to face me, his expression hardening into stone.

"Did you swap it?" Jace asked, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Did you do this to scare her just because she touched Owen's bag yesterday?"

I looked past Jace, searching for our son. Owen stood near the doorway, clutching the plastic game console Talia had bought him. His knuckles were white.

"Tell your father what happened yesterday morning, Owen," I said. "Tell him why I refused to let Talia handle your medical pouch."

Owen stared at his sneakers. He gripped the game console tighter and said absolutely nothing.

Talia reached up and pulled the oxygen mask down to her chin. She coughed weakly, her chest heaving with the effort. "I asked Maya about the medical supplies last night. Maybe someone just grabbed the wrong one in a hurry."

"Pull the Alpha House security footage," I demanded, addressing the clinic staff. "And bring me the inventory logs for every medication dispensed this week."

Jace stepped into my line of sight, blocking my view of the nurses. "A woman is lying in a hospital bed, fighting for breath, and your first thought is clearing your own name?"

"My first thought is finding out how a trainer pen ended up in her bag," I corrected him. "I do not have a key to her personal belongings. And I have no reason to touch them."

"I left it on the living room sofa last night," Talia whispered, her voice trembling as she looked at Jace. "The zipper was open. Anyone could have touched it."

She reached out, resting a pale hand on Jace's forearm. Her eyes filled with unshed tears, shimmering under the harsh fluorescent lights. "Jace, please don't yell at her. Pregnancy hormones make people do things they don't realize. Her body is going through so much right now. Don't be too hard on her."

Owen's head snapped up. He marched over to the metal bed, glaring at me. "Is that why you're mad? Because Dad spends time with Talia and not you?"

"Adult relationships are not for you to judge, Owen," I told him, keeping my voice steady. "And pregnancy is never an excuse to invalidate a person's actions."

Owen scowled, his face turning a deep shade of red. "Stop lecturing me! You always make everything a rule! You just want to control everyone!"

Jace watched the exchange, his jaw tightening. He pointed a firm finger toward the hallway. "Stay away from Talia's room and her medication, Maya. Temporarily."

"You are restricting my access in my own home?" I asked.

"I am keeping the peace," Jace countered. "Until we figure out what happened, just keep your distance."

I stood in the center of my own Pack clinic, labeled a threat in front of my husband, my son, and my staff. The restriction was a clear declaration of his distrust.

I turned to the head nurse standing near the heart monitors. "Seal the intake list, the medication batches, and today's shift logs under my Pack member rights. Send notice to the Council immediately. I am filing a formal written objection to an internal accusation against the Luna."

Jace's eyes widened. He stepped forward, closing the distance between us. "Do not escalate family drama to the Council, Maya. You are overreacting."

"If you treat me as a threat to a Pack member in my own territory, it is no longer a family spat," I replied.

I turned my back on him and walked out of the room. The heavy wooden door swung shut behind me, stopping an inch from the frame.

Talia's voice carried through the gap.

"Your mom needs us to agree with her right now, sweetie, or she'll feel sick again," Talia murmured.

"I know," Owen whispered back. "She says she's tired every time Dad hangs out with you. She just wants attention."

I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and pressed the submit button on the Council grievance portal.

I walked into the family living room holding an empty canvas tote, intending only to grab my prenatal vitamins and a clean pair of pajamas. I just wanted to sleep in the guest room.

Laughter echoed from the leather sectional. Jace and Owen leaned over a glowing tablet screen, their shoulders pressed against Talia’s. They were scrolling through photos of the chestnut geldings from the stables. The morning’s clinic disaster had not driven them apart. It had forged a tighter circle, one that left no space for me.

I did not ask either of them to come upstairs with me.

"Did you get the security footage?" I asked, stopping at the edge of the woven rug.

Jace locked the tablet screen and tossed it onto the coffee table. "The kitchen camera feed cut out during a system update. There is no video."

He stood up, crossing the distance between us. "But we need to talk about your behavior, Maya. You need to apologize to Talia."

"Apologize for what?" I asked, keeping my grip firm on the canvas straps.

"For being hostile," Jace said, his voice dropping into a stern reprimand. "You spent the entire morning treating her like a criminal. At least admit you overreacted yesterday."

"I will not apologize for a crime I did not commit," I replied, meeting his glare. "The only evidence is a foil wrapper found in my storage cabinet. Anyone with a key to this house could have planted it."

"You are the only one who hates her," Jace countered, stepping closer. "You are the only one with a motive to swap the medication and scare her away."

"My motive is keeping our son alive," I said. "I locked her out of the digital cabinet to protect him, not to play games."

"You humiliated her in front of the entire clinic staff," Jace snapped. "You filed a Council grievance over a simple mistake. You are making this family look like a joke."

"You made this family a joke the moment you moved her into our home," I told him.

Talia pushed herself off the sofa. She wrapped her arms around her waist, her eyes wide and shining under the recessed lighting.

"Please stop yelling at her, Jace," Talia whispered, her tone laced with manufactured guilt. "It is my fault. I should never have come back."

She looked at Jace first, ensuring she had his attention before turning to me.

"If my presence makes you so emotionally unstable that you fail to protect your baby, I will pack my bags," Talia said. "I will leave tomorrow."

Owen jumped up from the cushions. He planted his small sneakers firmly on the rug, inserting himself between me and Talia like a shield.

"You just want to drive her away!" my ten-year-old son yelled, his fists clenched at his sides. "She is the only one who actually plays with me!"

Talia reached into her cardigan pocket. She pulled out the crumpled foil wrapper—the same one Clara had photographed and sealed hours ago. She extended her hand toward Jace, bypassing protocol completely.

"Here," Talia murmured, offering a weak smile. "Just take it. Let us stop fighting."

"Do not touch that," I said, stepping forward to intercept the evidence. "It needs to remain sealed for the Council review."

I reached for the plastic edge. Jace moved faster.

Assuming I was lunging at Talia, my husband stepped directly into my path. He planted a heavy hand against my forearm and shoved me backward with entirely too much force.

My shoes slipped on the polished hardwood. I lost my balance entirely, my arms flailing as I twisted in the air.

My lower back slammed into the sharp edge of the oak coffee table. A sickening thud echoed through the room as I collapsed onto the floor.

A sharp, electric pain shot up my spine, paralyzing me for a fraction of a second. Then, my lower abdomen seized in a violent, cramping knot.

I looked down. A dark red stain was already blooming against the grey cotton of my pajama pants, spreading rapidly.

"Jace," I gasped, pressing my hand against my stomach. "Call the healer."

At that exact second, Talia gasped loudly. She grabbed the collar of her shirt, sinking heavily onto the sofa cushions.

"My chest is tight," Talia wheezed, her chest heaving artificially. "It hurts to breathe."

Owen immediately spun around and dropped to his knees beside her, grabbing her hand with both of his.

Jace crouched next to me, but his eyes darted toward the sofa. "Maya, are you able to just calm down for a second?"

He was weighing our symptoms. He was treating my fall as a tantrum meant to overshadow her panic.

I lifted my trembling hand and held it out. Crimson blood coated my palm, stark and undeniable against my pale skin.

"I am bleeding," I said, my voice cracking under the sheer terror of losing my child.

Owen stood behind Jace's shoulder. He stared directly at the blood on my fingers. He did not step closer. He did not cry out for me.

"Do not believe her," my son told his father, his voice completely steady. "She always says she is sick whenever you hang out with Talia."

The air in my lungs vanished. My fingers curled into tight fists against the rug. My own son had learned to look at my bleeding body and judge it as a performance.

Jace frowned, shooting a sharp look over his shoulder. "Do not speak nonsense, Owen."

Yet, Jace did not scoop me into his arms. He did not yell for Clara or dial the emergency line. He turned his head back toward the sofa, checking to see if Talia needed to go to the clinic first.

That single second of hesitation gave me my answer. My danger required verification. Her discomfort demanded immediate action.

I gripped the edge of the coffee table and forced myself upright.

"Clara," I called toward the hallway. "Bring the car around."

Jace looked at the blood soaking through my clothes, then back at Talia. "Maya, wait. Let me make sure she can breathe, and then I will take you."

"No." My voice shook, but the answer did not. "You already decided who you believe."

Clara rushed in and caught my elbow. I let her steady me only long enough to reach the foyer.

Behind us, Owen stayed beside Talia. Jace called after me that he would meet me at the clinic.

I did not trust that promise enough to wait.

"Not the Pack clinic," I told Clara as another cramp folded me in half. "Take me to the neutral hospital outside the territory."

The front door shut behind us before anyone followed.