I woke up to the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant filling my nose. The harsh brightness of fluorescent lights stung my eyes as I blinked against the glaring lights.
Every inch of me ached, the dull throb in my side a brutal reminder of the ambush. My hand instinctively drifted to my abdomen, feeling the hollowness beneath the bandages, and with it came a surge of grief I wasn’t ready to face.
A soft, steady beeping punctuated the silence, and I realized I was hooked up to monitors. The pack doctor, Dr. Reyes, was standing beside the bed, clipboard in hand, checking my vitals. His face, usually calm and reassuring, looked unusually tense.
“Water?” I managed to croak out, my throat dry and raspy.
The nurse next to him immediately filled a small cup, guiding it to my lips. The coolness of the water soothed my parched throat, but it couldn’t touch the emptiness inside.
The doctor dismissed the nurse with a nod, and she slipped out of the room, leaving us alone. Silence settled around us, thick and uncomfortable. Dr. Reyes kept his gaze on his clipboard, avoiding my eyes, as if he were weighing something heavy on his conscience.
I took a breath, steeling myself.
“Where is Ashton?” I asked, though the answer was painfully clear. The bond between an Alpha and his Beta was unbreakable, as was Ashton’s connection to Sera. In moments of crisis, Sera was always his priority. I already knew what the answer would be, yet I asked anyway, clinging to the faint hope that I might be wrong.
The doctor looked up, his face a mask of sympathy and hesitancy. “He’s… taking care of Sera,” he replied softly, each word a calculated blow.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek, swallowing the bitter taste of resentment rising in my throat. It was exactly as I’d suspected. He hadn’t even come to see if I’d survived the attack.
Dr. Reyes shifted his weight, watching me carefully. “Elisa… did you know you were pregnant?” His voice was gentle, as if he feared that any sudden movement might shatter me.
I nodded slowly, my hand instinctively brushing my abdomen. “Yes. I knew.” I met his gaze, a plea unspoken between us. “Don’t tell anyone. Please. I lost the child… there’s no reason for anyone else to know.”
His eyes softened, filled with sympathy and something else—pity, perhaps. “As you wish, Elisa. I’ll keep this to myself. I’m sorry for your loss.” He paused, his expression grave. “May the Moon Goddess guide you through this.”
I managed a weak nod of gratitude, but as he walked away, the weight of his words sank deeper, pressing against my heart like a stone. I turned my face away, willing the tears back. I wouldn’t cry here, not in the sterile walls of the pack infirmary.
Later that evening, I found myself on the balcony, the sharp wind biting against my skin as I clutched the railing. The cold stung, grounding me, but it did little to calm the storm brewing within.
Since the ambush, everything felt out of control, slipping through my fingers like sand. The attack had only amplified what I’d been trying to ignore for months: Ashton was no longer mine. Or maybe he never truly had been.
Behind me, I could hear his voice through the open door, barking orders over the phone. Pack business, as usual. That was always Ashton’s priority, always the center of his world. Not me. Not us. Not the baby I had carried and lost the child. All while he was wrapped up in Sera’s safety.
My fingers tightened on the railing until my knuckles turned white, the sting of the cold metal grounding me.
No one knew about the baby—no one except Dr. Reyes.
I had carried the secret of carrying Ashton’s child for weeks, waiting for the right moment to tell Ashton, hoping it might finally bring us closer. But that moment would never come, and now, all I had left was an emptiness so deep it felt like it might consume me whole.
I turned, glancing over my shoulder. Ashton was pacing in the living room, his suit jacket slung over the back of a chair, phone pressed to his ear as he barked commands with a determination I remembered all too well. He didn’t even look like he’d been through hell.
Meanwhile, I felt like I was drowning, my heart breaking a little more with every shallow breath. I knew the moment he hung up, he’d turn back to Sera, to her needs. She was the one who had his attention, his loyalty.
“Elisa!” Ashton’s voice broke through my spiraling thoughts, snapped me back to the present. He stood at the balcony doors, his gaze locked on me with that intense, commanding look that had once drawn me to him. Now, it only filled me with bitterness.
I didn’t move.
“Come inside. You’ve been out here for hours,” he said, his tone softer now, trying to bridge the chasm between us. But the words felt hollow, unable to reach the ache in my chest.
“I’m fine,” I replied coolly, refusing to meet his gaze. The cold wind was easier to bear than the emptiness he’d left in me.
A flash of irritation crossed his face as he took a step closer, his presence filling the small space between us. “You’ve barely spoken to me since the ambush. What’s going on with you?”
I laughed bitterly, a sound that surprised even me. “What’s going on? You’re seriously asking me that?” I turned to face him fully, letting him see the pain and frustration etched across my face.
His brows furrowed, a look of genuine confusion flashing in his eyes. “Yes, Elisa. Why the hell are you acting like this?”
“Why am I acting like this?” I repeated, my voice sharp as a blade. “Maybe because I was there, Ashton. I was in that car too, watching everything unfold, knowing I could die. And where were you? Oh, right, you were with her.”
He stiffened, his jaw clenching. “I was protecting her. She was vulnerable—”
“I was vulnerable!” I snapped, cutting him off. “I needed you, Ashton, and you weren’t there. Do you have any idea what that felt like? To be abandoned while you ran to her side without a second thought?”
He opened his mouth to respond, but I didn’t give him the chance.
“Every single time, Ashton,” I continued, my voice rising with every word. “Every time, you choose her. You don’t even realize it, but everyone else does. The pack members, everyone—they pity me. I’m supposed to be your mate, your equal. But instead, you make me feel like I’m nothing, like I’m invisible.”
I could see something flicker in his eyes then—guilt, maybe, or a hint of shame. But whatever it was, he quickly buried it beneath a mask of stoic calm.
“You’re blowing this out of proportion,” he said, his voice quieter now, as if he thought that would soothe me. “Sera is important to the pack, Elisa. That’s all.”
“And what am I?” I demanded, my voice breaking. “Am I just some accessory? Someone you keep around because it’s convenient?”
He fell silent, his expression unreadable. I felt a hot surge of anger rise in my chest, and I struggled to contain it, to keep my voice steady.
“Ashton… I lost something that day,” I whispered, the words like a confession. “Do you even know that?”
A look of confusion passed over his face. “What are you saying?”
But I shook my head, feeling the last shred of hope dissolve within me. “It doesn’t matter now.”
I turned on my heel, leaving him behind as I walked away, the sound of his voice calling after me fading into the background.
I didn’t want to hear his excuses, his empty promises. I was done waiting for him to notice me, to see me as anything more than an afterthought.
As I reached the hallway, I picked up the phone, dialing a number I hadn’t called in months. Eric, a close ally from my father’s former pack, answered on the third ring. His deep voice was a balm, a reminder of the home I’d left behind for a life that had ultimately left me hollow.
“It’s me, Eric,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady, even as the world around me seemed to be falling apart. “I’m coming home.”
The decision to leave crept up on me slowly, like the gradual encroachment of shadows in a room. At first, you don’t notice the darkness, but by the time you realize it’s there, it’s already swallowed you whole. There wasn’t one betrayal, one heartbreak that drove me to this point; rather, it was a thousand little moments, each cutting me a little deeper until I could no longer ignore the truth.
When Sera first joined the pack, I didn’t think much of it. Ashton said she was promising, with a potential that reminded him of himself when he was younger. I remember watching him say those words with a spark in his eyes I hadn’t seen in years.
“She’ll learn fast,” he had told me one evening, pride radiating from him in a way that felt almost foreign. I smiled, brushing off the unease gnawing at me. Sera was part of the pack, an asset to our future, nothing more—or so I told myself.
But as the weeks wore on, things shifted. Ashton’s dinners with me became less frequent. His touch, once warm and comforting, grew distant, as if I were something fragile he didn’t want to break but also didn’t want to hold.
I saw it in the way Sera looked at him, a spark of admiration bordering on something more, and the way his gaze lingered on her just a beat too long.
At first, I ignored it, telling myself it was nothing. But a chill settled in my bones each time I watched them together, a chill that no warmth could thaw.
I waited, telling myself that it would pass, that whatever was happening between them was fleeting. Ashton and I had weathered storms before—this would be no different.
But even I couldn’t ignore the truth that festered beneath my skin. My loyalty was blinding me, keeping me tethered to a fantasy while reality eroded everything, I thought we had.
The night of the ambush stripped away any illusions I’d been clinging to. It had been brutal, a flash of violence that left us scrambling, fighting for survival. The chaos swept through like a storm, and I remember the pounding of my heart, the wild instinct to survive.
I searched for Ashton in the mess, knowing he was my partner in everything, the one who’d always have my back. But when I found him, he wasn’t looking for me. He was shielding Sera, pulling her to safety, while I was left to fend for myself. In that split second, something in me shattered. He hadn’t chosen her that night—he had chosen her long before.
Now, as I stood in our shared bedroom, packing my things, I realized I was done. I couldn’t keep pretending that what we had was real or that he’d somehow wake up and remember who I was to him.
The room felt hollow, the remnants of our life together reduced to shadows and dust. I went to the closet, grabbing a suitcase and setting it on the bed. I didn’t need much. Just enough to leave and not look back.
I paused as my eyes landed on a scrap of lace half-hidden beneath the bed. It was a piece of lingerie, delicate and distinctly not mine. I’d found it weeks ago, tucked under the mattress like a dirty secret, and had shoved it back, unwilling to confront what it meant. But now, as I stared at it, I felt a surge of clarity. It was a symbol of everything I’d been avoiding, a testament to the lies I had built my life around. I tossed it on the bed beside my suitcase, a final, silent statement to Ashton and to myself.
He was gone again, off with Sera on some “pack mission” that we both knew wasn’t really business. They’d left without a second thought about me, their plans taking precedence over any remnants of loyalty Ashton and I once shared. But this time, when he returned, he wouldn’t find me here waiting for him, heart in hand.
I walked over to the desk by the window, grabbing a pen and a sheet of paper. Words were never enough to capture heartbreak, and I doubted they could express the years of betrayal that had led me to this moment. But I needed to say something, even if it was just a formality. My hands shook as I began to write.
“Ashton,” I started, “I’ve tried to ignore what’s been happening for so long. I convinced myself that you would see me again, that maybe there was something left between us to save. But you’ve chosen her, over and over, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t see it. I can’t keep waiting for you to remember me. I deserve better.”
My heart twisted painfully as I scrawled the final words. “By the time you read this, I will be gone. I did my part as your mate, your friend, your lover. Since my presence never held your loyalty, I hope my absence gives you the peace my love couldn’t.”
I folded the note and placed it on the bed beside the forgotten piece of lingerie. A final goodbye, a hollow reminder of everything I was leaving behind. The room felt unbearably silent, like a tomb filled with memories of a life that should have been. I took one last look, hoping to feel something, anything—regret, sadness, maybe even anger. But all I felt was a weary relief. I was finally letting go.
With my suitcase in hand, I stepped out of the bedroom, the door clicking softly shut behind me. No regrets, no second thoughts—just the weight of a decision that had been a long time coming. I walked down the hall, each step carrying me farther from the life I’d once clung to so desperately.
It was time to leave, and this time, there would be no coming back.
