Freda's POV

The air felt heavy as I stepped into Willard’s office, my heart pounding with excitement and nerves. I clutched the small velvet box in my hand, the symbol of the life we were about to create together. My pulse quickened as I imagined his reaction to the news that I was carrying his child—our child. Everything I had ever wanted seemed within reach.

But as I opened the door, the world I thought I knew shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. Willard wasn’t alone. Sybil Carter, the perfect picture of elegance and allure, was in his arms. Her laughter, rich and familiar, filled the room, and I froze, unable to process what I was seeing. His hands gripped her waist as he tilted his head down to kiss her, his words murmured softly into her ear. Words I had thought were meant only for me.

It wasn’t just the intimacy of their embrace that broke me; it was the familiarity. The way his hands moved as if they knew every inch of her. The way she tilted her head back, her lips parted in a smile I had never seen her wear before. It was like watching someone else live my dream, a cruel and twisted mirror reflecting everything I thought we were.

“Willard?” My voice cracked, barely a whisper. But it was enough.

He turned, his expression morphing from shock to guilt. Sybil stepped back, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she straightened her blouse. “Freda,” he started, his tone uneven, “I can explain.”

“Explain?” My voice rose, trembling with the betrayal coursing through me. “You lied to me! You promised it was over with her. You swore I was the only one!”

Sybil’s eyes darted between us, her face a mixture of pity and triumph. She hesitated for only a moment before slipping out the door, leaving me alone with Willard and the wreckage of our love.

“It’s not what you think,” he insisted, stepping toward me, but I backed away.

“Not what I think? I saw you with her, Willard! How long has this been going on? Since she came back?” My voice broke, tears spilling down my cheeks. “I trusted you. I gave you everything.”

“It’s complicated,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Sybil and I…we have history.”

History. The word twisted in my chest like a knife. I had always known about her, the infamous first love who had left for a foreign pack, the one Willard swore he’d moved on from. I had believed him when he said I was his future. But now, it was clear that I had been nothing more than a placeholder for his past.

“You’ve been lying to me this whole time,” I said, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak. “Do you even love me? Or was I just convenient because she wasn’t around?”

Willard’s face contorted with frustration. “Freda, it’s not like that. You know I care about you.”

“Care about me?” I shot back, my voice rising. “You promised me a future. You promised me a family. And all this time, you’ve been sneaking around with her?”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, his tone sharp. “But Sybil and I…we have a bond. It’s not something I can just ignore.”

“A bond?” I laughed bitterly, my hands clenching into fists. “What about our bond, Willard? What about the promises you made to me? Or do they mean nothing because she’s back in the picture?”

“You don’t understand,” he snapped, his voice finally breaking. “I’ve known Sybil my entire life. She was my first love. Things were complicated when she left, and now that she’s back…”

“And now that she’s back, I’m disposable?” I interrupted, my chest heaving with the weight of my emotions. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

Willard’s silence was all the answer I needed. The pain in my chest was almost unbearable, a crushing weight that left me struggling to breathe.

“I gave you everything,” I said, my voice breaking. “I stood by you when no one else did. I believed in you when no one else would. And this is how you repay me?”

“Freda, please,” he said, reaching for me, but I stepped back, shaking my head.

“Don’t,” I whispered. “Don’t touch me. Don’t say another word. You’ve said enough.”

Before I could say more, the door swung open, and Sybil’s scent lingered in the air. Willard didn’t even hesitate; he pushed past me to follow her.

“Where are you going?” I demanded, my voice cracking with desperation.

“She’s upset,” he said over his shoulder, not stopping. “I need to make sure she’s okay. I’m sorry.”

Something inside me broke. Rage and heartbreak consumed me as I followed him, determined not to let him walk away without facing the consequences. He stormed out to his car, and I threw myself into the passenger seat before he could protest.

“I’m not letting you run from this,” I said through gritted teeth.

Willard slammed the door shut and started the engine, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel. “This isn’t the time, Freda.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” I shot back. “I deserve answers, Willard. Why? Was everything you said to me a lie? Was I just…convenient?”

“You weren’t just convenient,” he snapped, his voice rising. “I do love you, Freda, but things with Sybil…it’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then make me understand!” I shouted, tears streaming down my face. “Make me understand how you could stand there and promise me the world while sneaking around with her!”

“It’s not that simple!” he yelled back, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. “Sybil and I…there’s history there. Things I can’t just erase.”

“And what about our history?” I countered. “Does that mean nothing to you?”

The argument escalated, my voice rising with every accusation, every word a raw wound. Willard snapped back, his own guilt and frustration fueling the fire. Neither of us noticed the curve in the road until it was too late.

The tires screeched, and the car skidded out of control. Time slowed as we careened toward the edge of the cliff. Willard fought to regain control, but the momentum was unstoppable.

“Hold on!” he yelled, but the words barely registered as the car broke through the barrier and plunged into the abyss.

The last thing I remembered was the deafening crash and the sensation of falling, my world dissolving into darkness.

Freda's POV

Pain greeted me before my eyes even opened. A dull, aching throb in my head and a weight in my chest that made it hard to breathe. My body felt foreign, like it belonged to someone else, someone broken. The sterile scent of antiseptic and the faint hum of machines buzzed at the edge of my awareness, pulling me back to reality.

I forced my eyelids open, blinking against the harsh white light above me. The room was unfamiliar, its clean, minimalist design offering no comfort. My gaze landed on a woman standing nearby, her face soft but serious. She wore a uniform—a nurse.

“Where am I?” I croaked, my throat dry and raw.

The nurse’s eyes widened slightly, and she stepped closer, her movements careful. “You’re awake,” she said gently. “You’re in the Red Moon Pack’s medical wing. You’ve been unconscious for a long time.”

Red Moon Pack. The name sent a jolt through me, chasing away the fog in my mind. My heart raced as memories of the accident flooded back. The argument. The curve in the road. The car spinning out of control. Falling.

I gasped, my hand flying to my stomach. “My baby?”

The nurse’s expression softened. “Your baby is fine. You’re lucky—both of you are. Alpha Drake and his warriors found you at the bottom of the cliff and brought you here. You’ve been in a coma for a hundred days.”

A hundred days. My mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the enormity of what she was saying. Three months. I had been gone for three months, lost in the void while life went on without me.

“Drake?” I echoed, the name sticking in my throat. It couldn’t be.

The nurse nodded. “Yes. Alpha Drake Morgan. He’s the one who saved you.”

My stomach churned, a mix of disbelief and something sharper, more bitter. Drake Morgan, the man I had rejected as my mate, the one I had chosen Willard over, had been the one to find me? The irony was cruel.

As if summoned by my thoughts, the door to the room swung open, and there he was. Drake Morgan. His presence dominated the space, his tall frame and piercing eyes as commanding as I remembered. He stepped inside, his gaze locking onto mine.

“So, you’re finally awake,” he said, his voice low and clipped. There was no warmth, no relief, just the cold detachment of a man who had done his duty and nothing more.

I struggled to sit up, the effort sending sharp pain through my ribs. “Why?” The word escaped me in a rasp, barely audible.

Drake leaned against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. “Why did I save you?” he asked, his tone almost mocking. “Maybe I have a soft spot for broken things.”

The sting of his words was immediate, but I bit back my retort. I had no strength for a battle of wits with him, not now. “I need to go back to my pack,” I said, forcing the words out despite the lump in my throat. “I can’t stay here.”

Drake’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. “Go back?” He straightened, taking a step closer. “You think the Greystone Pack will welcome you with open arms after what happened?”

My stomach twisted. “What are you talking about?”

“They’ve moved on, Freda,” he said, his voice cold but steady. “Willard has moved on.”

His words cut deeper than I wanted to admit. I clenched my fists, trying to steady my trembling voice. “I have to go back. My life is there.”

“Your life?” Drake’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “The same life that led you to a car crash and left you for dead at the bottom of a cliff?” He shook his head. “You’re safer here.”

“Safe?” I snapped, anger flaring despite my weakness. “With you? The man who hates me?”

Drake’s eyes darkened, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Hate you?” he repeated, his voice quieter now, almost dangerous. “Don’t flatter yourself, Freda. Saving you was an act of decency, not affection.”

The tension between us crackled like a storm, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on it. My priority was my child and finding my way back to the life I had left behind, no matter how fractured it was.

“Thank you for saving me,” I said, forcing the words past my pride. “But I can’t stay here. I have to leave.”

Drake stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. “Do whatever you want. It’s not my place to stop you.”

His indifference stung, but I pushed it aside, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. My body protested every movement, but I forced myself to stand. The nurse rushed to my side, her hands hovering as if she wanted to help but didn’t dare.

“You’re not ready to leave,” she said, worry etched across her face.

“I don’t have a choice,” I replied, my voice firmer than I felt.

I took a shaky step forward, then another. Each one felt like a victory, a step closer to reclaiming what I had lost. But as I reached the doorway, Drake’s voice stopped me.

“You’ll regret going back,” he said, his tone colder than ever. “They won’t want you. Not after everything.”

I didn’t turn around. “That’s for me to find out.”

As I crossed the threshold, Drake’s final words followed me, lingering like a warning: “You don’t know the half of what you’re walking into.”

Freda's POV

The journey back to Greystone Pack was a blur of pain and determination. Every step felt like a battle against my body’s protests, but I pushed forward, clinging to the thought of my child and the life I needed to reclaim. The forest loomed around me, its familiar scent a mix of comfort and dread. When the pack’s gates came into view, my heart raced, torn between relief and trepidation.

I hesitated for a moment, staring at the gates that once symbolized safety. Now, they felt like the walls of a prison, a place where I’d been betrayed and abandoned. But I had no choice. I needed answers, closure, and my life back. Squaring my shoulders, I stepped forward.

The guards at the entrance stiffened at my approach. Their eyes widened in recognition before narrowing in suspicion. One of them stepped forward, blocking my path.

“Freda?” His voice was filled with disbelief. “You’re supposed to be…” He trailed off, his expression unreadable.

“Dead?” I finished for him, my voice sharp. “Well, I’m not. Now move.”

He exchanged a glance with his companion but stepped aside. I didn’t wait for further discussion, pushing past them and heading straight for the pack’s main hall. My heart pounded with every step, each one bringing me closer to the confrontation I both dreaded and craved.

The sound of celebration hit me first. Laughter, music, and the hum of voices filled the air as I neared the grand hall. My steps faltered, confusion washing over me. What could they possibly be celebrating?

When I reached the hall’s entrance, the answer hit me like a blow to the chest. Willard stood at the center of the room, his arm wrapped around Sybil. Her radiant smile matched the glow of the ceremonial garb she wore. Around them, the pack cheered and applauded. A wedding. They were celebrating their union.

My vision blurred, my mind refusing to process the scene before me. The man who had promised me the world was standing there, binding himself to someone else as if I had never existed. My hands clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms.

“Willard...” I stepped into the hall, the noise dimming as those closest to me noticed my presence. Whispers spread like wildfire, heads turning to follow their gaze. Willard’s eyes met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a flicker of recognition. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by confusion and…disdain.

“Who is this?” he asked, his voice cold and detached. “A rogue?”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing down on me. A rogue. He didn’t know me. He didn’t recognize me. The realization hit me harder than the crash that had brought me here.

“Willard,” I said, my voice trembling. “It’s me. It’s Freda.”

His brow furrowed, and he turned to Sybil, who placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said, his tone dismissive. “Guards, remove her.”

“No!” I cried, stepping forward. “You know me, Willard. We were…we were everything to each other! How can you not remember?”

The guards moved to grab me, but I fought against them, desperation fueling my strength. “Please! You have to remember! I—”

“Enough!” Willard’s voice boomed, silencing the room. He stepped closer, his expression hard. “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here, but you’re not welcome. Leave, now.”

Tears streamed down my face as the guards dragged me toward the exit. The pack’s whispers grew louder, their judgmental eyes burning into me. I looked back one last time, hoping for some sign, some shred of the man I had loved. But Willard’s gaze remained cold, his arm tightening around Sybil.

Outside the hall, the guards released me, their expressions a mix of pity and contempt. I stumbled away, my legs weak and my heart shattered. The realization that Willard truly didn’t remember me—or worse, didn’t care—left me hollow.

As I reached the edge of the forest, a familiar figure stepped into view. Tina, one of the pack’s servants and my only friend during my time here, rushed to my side.

“Freda,” she whispered, her voice filled with urgency. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t have come back.”

I shook my head, my words failing me. Tina’s expression softened, and she guided me to a nearby log, sitting beside me.

“Willard…he doesn’t remember you,” she said carefully. “After the accident, he was in a coma. When he woke up, he…he lost parts of his memory. Everything about you is gone.”

The truth felt like a knife twisting in my chest. “And no one told him?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Tina hesitated, then shook her head. “Helen didn’t want him to know. She said it would only confuse him, and with Sybil helping him recover…”

Of course. Helen. Willard’s mother had always hated me, blaming me for every misfortune that befell their family. She must have seen this as the perfect opportunity to erase me from his life entirely.

“I’ll find a way,” I said, my voice gaining strength. “I’ll make him remember. I have to.”

Tina’s grip on my arm tightened. “Be careful, Freda. Helen won’t let you back into his life so easily.”

As Tina’s warning echoed in my mind, a new resolve took root. I wouldn’t let Helen or anyone else keep me from the truth. I would make Willard remember—no matter the cost.