— Sera —

The group chat wouldn't stop buzzing. Message after message popped up on my screen — each one filthier than the last.

All of them were about me.

The useless Omega.

Cole's pity fuck.

A plaything to warm his bed before Talia comes back.

Jake: yo bro Talia just dropped that Nightwood clown she was with. she's back. u know what that means lmaooo

Nate: LMAOOO don't tell me u actually caught feelings for that little Omega?? she doesn't even have a wolf wtf are u doing

Jake: wait wait wait — Cole don't drop her yet!! make her try those new positions first dawg. i'm dead serious. do it for the boys

Nate: it's TALIA. THE Talia. ur not going soft over some pathetic crybaby Omega are u?? she literally has no wolf lol

Cole finally replied.

Cole: relax. she's nothing. easier than a doll.

And then the others lost it.

Jake: LMAOOO king behavior fr

Dev: bro said easier than a doll💀💀💀

Nate: get that shit out of ur system before Talia's back tho. she's on a whole different level

And then came the photos.

My photos.

Blurred faces, pixelated skin, but I could tell — it was me. Everyone could.

Jake: bro... okay she's actually kinda hot ngl 👀

Dev: Cole u been holding out on us wtf

Cole: tried that position last night. seven times. she passed out lol. but damn Omegas really are something else

Jake: SEVEN??? bro what the actual fuck 💀

Dev: respect. actual respect.

Nate: get every last drop before Talia comes home king. she's too good for this shit

My throat tightened until I thought I'd choke.

Seven times.

I pressed the phone against my chest, as if I could crush the messages, crush the sound of their laughter, crush the part of me that still loved him.

But the silence that followed was worse.

There was no one to call, no one to scream to. My father was off chasing another she-wolf, still trying to have an Alpha son. My mother was long gone. And Cole — the only person I'd ever trusted — was the one who'd destroyed me.

Something inside me went very still.

Like the part of me that cared about surviving had finally snapped.

I used to think I'd already hit rock bottom.

When my fated mate rejected me at eighteen, I thought that was it — the end of my capacity to feel pain. He said the words in front of everyone, didn't even flinch. No wolf, no worth. I shut off everything after that — love, romance, even the smallest hope that I could be wanted.

I told myself I'd survive by being useful. I studied medicine, worked harder than anyone, tried to earn a sliver of respect from a pack that thought I was a waste of air.

And then Cole came along.

The golden Alpha who didn't laugh at me. Who sat in my healing classes even though Alphas never did. Who bled on purpose so I could practice.

He said his wolf was strong enough for both of us.

He made me believe I wasn't broken.

Now I watched his words — those same hands that held me, now typing filth about me for his friends to laugh at.

I grabbed my keys and walked out, leaving the phone still buzzing on the bed.

By the time I reached the nearest bar, my tears had dried into something colder.

* * *

The place reeked of sweat, liquor, and testosterone. I downed a shot, then another, hoping the burn in my throat could erase the burn in my chest.

That's when I heard it.

"yo — is that Cole's little Omega?"

"damn bro yeah it is. look at her."

"shit, she's actually kinda fine in person. Cole's been keeping her all to himself huh"

"bro I'd hit. no cap."

I looked up.

Cole's friends.

The ones who used to greet me with polite smiles at parties. The ones I'd thought were decent.

Cole always said I was imagining things when I caught that look in their eyes. Said I was too sensitive. Too paranoid.

Now I knew I wasn't crazy.

I'd never been crazy.

That look — they'd had it the whole time. Like I was something on a screen they could pause and rewind whenever they felt like it.

I felt sick. I drank until the room spun.

Then, through the haze, Cole appeared. His face was soft, his voice sweet.

"You've been waiting too long for me, haven't you? I'm sorry, my Luna. Let me make it up to you tonight."

He kissed my ear, his breath hot and familiar.

For a moment, I almost let myself fall for it again.

Maybe I wanted to believe the lie one last time.

The bar filled with whistles when he lifted me into his arms, carrying me through a door I hadn't noticed before — a private room plastered with posters of naked bodies in impossible poses.

"Sweetheart," he said, smiling that smile I used to love, "you're the commander tonight. Pick a position, and I'll make it happen."

And for a heartbeat, I wished I were dead.

— Sera —

I didn't ask him why.

Why he humiliated me. Why he let them talk about me like that. Why he lied.

I didn't scream. Didn't throw the glass in his face.

I just whispered, "Not tonight. I'm… not feeling well."

My forehead was burning. Fever, maybe.

Or maybe it was my body trying to burn away what was left of my dignity.

Cole looked genuinely worried — like the perfect boyfriend again.

He drove me to the hospital, one hand on the wheel, the other resting protectively on my knee.

The same hands that had held me down.

I kept my face turned toward the window and didn't say a word the whole drive.

While filling out the intake form, I mentioned the nausea that had been haunting me every morning.

The nurse suggested a blood test. I didn't care enough to refuse.

We were waiting for the results when shouting broke out near the entrance.

Before I could process anything, Cole shot up, his chair clattering to the floor. He was across the room in seconds, his fist connecting with another Alpha's face.

The sound of bone cracking echoed through the hall.

Screams followed — Omegas running, nurses shouting.

And then I saw her.

Talia.

Her mate trying to shield her, a bruise blooming purple on her thigh.

"What did you do to her?!" Cole roared, punching again and again, blind with fury.

Talia's mate — Zane Harper, the heir of the Harper Pack — spat blood, gasping. "It's none of your damn business!"

I ran toward them, yelling for Cole to stop. A blow came out of nowhere — I wasn't even sure whose. I stumbled, fell — right into Talia. We both went down.

Before I could move, Cole shoved me aside and scooped Talia into his arms.

"Are you hurt?" His voice was soft, trembling. He brushed her hair away from her face.

He didn't even look at me.

Not once.

The floor was cold against my cheek. Something warm trickled down my thigh.

It took me a second to realize it was blood.

For a long moment, I just lay there — listening to the chaos, to Cole's voice comforting Talia, to the nurses rushing past me.

No one saw me.

No one ever did.

I pressed my palm to the cut and made myself get up. One hand on the wall, knees shaking, the fluorescent lights too bright overhead. Someone actually stepped around me to get to Cole's side.

Not to help me.

To watch.

By the time I made it to the doctor's office, my vision was swimming. Dr. Ellis frowned when he saw me, then helped me onto the exam table. He cleaned the wound on my leg. Wrapped it with steady hands. Then went very quiet.

That kind of quiet that means something else is coming.

"You're… pregnant," he said. "About two months."

Pregnant.

The word hit me like a cruel joke.

"You've always had a fragile body," he continued. "This pregnancy itself is a miracle. But your condition isn't good. You need rest, care, and…" He hesitated. "You'll need the father's support. Can you… both handle that responsibility?"

I almost laughed.

If I hadn't been half-dead inside, I might've screamed.

I tried to stand and nearly collapsed. Dr. Ellis wouldn't let me leave without an escort, so I called Cole.

He didn't answer.

He didn't even text.

My father? He wouldn't care. My mother was gone. Just a name carved into cold stone.

There was no one left to call.

A knock at the door. Soft.

Zane Harper was standing in the doorway. Face swollen, lip split, one eye nearly shut. He looked like absolute hell.

"I'm… sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt. I'll cover your medical bills. And if you need help… I'll make sure you're safe."

It was the first time anyone had looked at me like I was still a person.

So when he offered me a ride home, I said yes.

He didn't ask questions in the car. Just drove. Both hands on the wheel, jaw tight. I stared out the window and thought about the tiny thing growing inside me that I had no idea what to do with.

He pulled up in front of my building and put the car in park but didn't cut the engine.

"I'll wait out here for a bit," he said. "In case you need anything."

I looked at him. "You don't have to do that."

"I know."

He held out his hand. "Give me your phone."

I didn't know why I did it. I just handed it over.

He dialed a number. A second later his own jacket pocket buzzed. He saved the contact, checked it once, and passed my phone back.

"Now you have mine," he said. "If you need out, just text me. I'll be right here."

I looked down at the screen.

Zane Harper. Ten digits. That was it.

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. I nodded and got out of the car.

The lobby door felt heavier than usual.

I could hear them before I even put my key in the lock — voices, low music, the comfortable hum of people who had nowhere else to be. I told myself it was fine. I'd walk in, go straight to my room, deal with everything in the morning.

I opened the door.

Talia was sitting on Cole's lap, crying softly into his chest.

His arms were around her. His friends stood in a loose circle — worried, quiet, protective. Like a wall built around something precious.

Nobody looked at the door when I walked in.

Talia lifted her head first. Her eyes found me across the room and went wide, like I was the last person she'd expected to see.

"Sera?" A little surprised. A little — almost annoyed. "What are you doing back?"

I opened my mouth.

Cole glanced over his shoulder. Just a glance. Like I was a notification he'd already decided to dismiss.

"Oh." Easy voice. Easy smile. "She's the house cleaner."

Nobody laughed.

Nobody corrected him either.

They just looked at me — Cole's friends, people who'd eaten at my table and borrowed my chargers and told me I was lucky to have a guy like Cole — and looked right through me.

Like I wasn't standing in my own apartment.

Like I wasn't even there.

— Sera —

I think I left my body for a second.

That's the only way I can describe it. One moment I was standing in the doorway of my own apartment, and the next I was somewhere else — hovering somewhere near the ceiling, watching a girl I used to know stand very still while everyone looked through her.

Just the house cleaner.

Just the house cleaner.

The words kept bouncing around inside my skull like they couldn't find anywhere to land.

I couldn't feel my hands. Couldn't feel my feet. I was pretty sure I was still breathing, but I couldn't have told you for certain. I kept waiting for something inside me to react — to scream, to cry, to do something — but there was nothing. Just a strange, floating quiet. Like the part of me that processed pain had finally hit its limit and clocked out.

Just the house cleaner.

Cole's friend said something. I didn't hear it. Talia shifted in Cole's lap and I didn't see it. The whole room kept moving around me and I just stood there, untethered, waiting to come back down.

It took a few seconds. Maybe longer.

And then — slowly, the way feeling comes back to a limb that's fallen asleep — I found myself again.

My feet. My hands. The strap of my bag still over my shoulder. The door still open behind me.

I didn't say a word.

I turned around and walked out.

The door clicked shut behind me and I stood in the hallway, back against the wall, staring at a water stain on the ceiling that I'd never noticed before.

My hands were shaking now. That was new.

I pulled out my phone. Found the contact he'd saved less than twenty minutes ago.

[ can you wait a little longer ]

The reply came in under ten seconds.

[ still here. ]

I closed my eyes.

Breathed.

Okay.

* * *

His car was still at the curb. Engine off, window cracked, like he'd settled in for the long haul without making a big deal of it.

He saw me come out and didn't say anything right away. Just watched me walk down the steps. Took in whatever was on my face.

"How bad?" he asked.

I laughed. It came out all wrong — too short, too hollow.

"He introduced me as the house cleaner."

Zane looked at me for a long moment. Something shifted in his jaw.

"Get in," he said.

I got in.

* * *

I went back up twenty minutes later.

Not for Cole. Not because of anything he'd said or done.

I went back because the apartment was mine. My name on the lease. My books on the shelves. My mom's photo on the nightstand. I was not going to let Cole Reed take that from me without at least getting my own things out first.

I packed fast. Quietly. Clothes, my med kit, the photo.

My hands were steady again. That scared me a little.

Cole appeared in the doorway before I'd zipped up the bag.

"Sera." He leaned against the frame. Tired. Like I was the one being dramatic. "Come on. It was a joke. You know how the guys get."

I kept packing.

"Talia just needed somewhere to crash tonight. It's not what you think."

I folded a sweater. Set it in the bag.

"Will you say something? You're just standing there like —"

"You called me a toy."

My voice came out flat. Quiet. Not angry. Just done.

"In the group chat," I said. "To all your boys. She's nothing but a toy. Easier than a doll."

Something moved across Cole's face. Not guilt. More like the expression of a guy who just realized the mess he left is bigger than he thought.

"That's just how we talk —"

"There were photos, Cole."

Silence.

"Of me," I said. "That your friends were passing around. And you didn't say stop. You didn't say one damn word."

His mouth opened.

Closed.

For the first time in two years, Cole Reed — the golden Alpha, the smooth talker, the guy who always had an answer — had absolutely nothing.

I zipped up the bag and stood.

"Don't call me," I said. "Don't text me. Don't show up."

I walked past him.

He didn't stop me.

Part of me waited for it anyway — a hand on my arm, my name, something.

Nothing.

Just Talia's soft voice from the living room asking Cole if he was okay.

I let the door shut behind me.

* * *

Zane was still on the porch. Sitting on the top step, elbows on his knees. He looked up when I came out and took in the bag on my shoulder without a word.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"No idea."

He nodded once. Pushed to his feet. "I know a place. Nothing fancy. But nobody'll bother you there."

"Why are you helping me?"

He was quiet a moment. Jaw tight. Like he was deciding how honest to be.

"Because Cole Reed's been pulling this crap for years and nobody ever says anything." He paused. "And because you shouldn't be alone right now."

He knew. About the pregnancy. Thin walls, a nurse talking too loud — whatever it was, he knew. And he was still standing here.

I waited for the pity. The step back.

It didn't come.

"Okay," I said.

* * *

The guest suite was on the edge of Harper Pack campus. Clean. Quiet. Nothing on the walls. It smelled like pine and something older underneath — the kind of stillness that made the noise in my head settle.

Zane set my bag down by the door. Stayed near the exit, like he wanted me to know he wasn't going to crowd me.

"Lock works from the inside. No one gets in without your say-so. I'll have someone bring food in the morning."

"You don't have to do all this."

"I know."

He moved toward the door. Stopped at the frame. Didn't look back.

"For what it's worth," he said, "you deserved better than him."

He left before I could answer.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time.

No buzzing phone. No group chat. No Cole.

I put my hand flat against my stomach.

Eight weeks. Barely anything. And yet.

"I don't know what I'm doing," I said out loud. To the room. To myself. To the tiny impossible thing that had decided to exist without asking me. "I really, really don't know what I'm doing."

But for the first time since I'd seen those messages on my screen, I could breathe.

That was enough for now.

* * *

— Caelum —

The report was three pages long and said very little.

I set it on my desk and looked out the window at the Silverclaw campus below. As honorary director, the administration kept me informed of anything that might turn into a political headache.

Tonight's report had my son's name in it. That wasn't unusual.

What was unusual was the other name.

Lane.

I picked the report back up.

Sera Lane. Omega. Second-year healer. No wolf.

No wolf.

I read that line twice.

I'd heard that before. About a woman from the same bloodline, years ago — an Omega born without her wolf, something the pack considered a defect. Something they were wrong about.

She had been the furthest thing from worthless.

And I had been too young and too focused on the right political match to tell her so.

I closed the folder.

Stood at the window for a while.

I told myself I was only doing due diligence. That I checked the file of anyone who ended up on Harper territory without prior arrangement.

I pulled up her academy photo anyway.

She was looking slightly to the left of the camera. Like she hadn't expected the flash. Dark hair. Quiet face. Young. Tired even in the photo.

Top of her class in applied healing. Scholarship student. No disciplinary record.

No emergency contacts listed.

No one.

"Make sure the Lane girl has everything she needs," I told my head of security. "Food. Medical supplies if she needs them. Quietly — don't make a fuss."

"Yes, sir."

I stayed at the window longer than I needed to.

I didn't know her yet.

I didn't know that her laugh — when she finally trusted someone enough to let it out — would sound exactly like her mother's.

And then, without meaning to, I closed my eyes.

Her face and her mother's face — the one that had lived in my dreams for twenty years — slowly overlapped. Same dark hair. Same quiet mouth. Same way of existing in a room like she was apologizing for being there.

I opened my eyes.

I could not let this happen again.