SERAPHINA'S POV "Seraphina!" I jolted awake in bed, hearing my name from the urgency in my mother's voice on the phone. Her voice trembled through the phone, sharp and brittle. "Mom?" My throat was raw. She hadn't reached out in ten years—not unless it was the worst kind of news. "Your father—" Her breath hitched, then broke. "He's been attacked." My stomach clenched. Ice-cold fear gripped me. "What?!" "Oh, Sera, he's barely clinging to life!" my mother sobbed brokenly. I immediately threw the covers off me and jumped out of bed. "Send me the hospital address," I said in a shaky voice. "I'll be there as soon as I can." I tried not to make too much noise as I rushed down the stairs so I wouldn't wake my son, Daniel. The light underneath my husband, Kieran's, office told me he was still up. As Alpha of the pack, he always had too much to handle. And if I were honest with myself—too much resentment toward me. A decade-old mistake had bound us together. A mistake he'd never forgiven. So, I didn't plan to bother him. By the time I slid into the driver's seat, tears streaked down my face. My father had always been invincible. Unshakable. The giant of my heart, even if he'd never wanted me as his daughter. Even if he'd hated me. But I never imagined he could be taken from me like this— I slammed my foot on the accelerator. When I reached the hospital, my mother and brother sat like shadows outside the operating room. My chest tightened. Would the giant really fall? I hesitated. I couldn't bring myself to step closer. Not when their disgust had exiled me long ago. After that night ten years ago, they'd erased me. To the world, they had only one daughter now—Celeste. Should I even be here? It had been ten years since we last spoke. Even after Daniel was born, all communication with the family had gone through Kieran. My father had made it clear—he never wanted to see my face again. Would he really want to see me now? What if he didn't? What if his resentment hadn't faded? I hesitated, my pulse pounding in my ears—until the sharp swish of the operating room doors cut through my thoughts. The doctor walked out, pulling gloves off his fingers. "Doctor!" I rushed forward before I could stop myself, my voice shaking. "How is my father?" The grim expression on his face said it all. "I'm sorry. We did all we could... but his injuries were far too severe." I pressed a hand to my mouth, choking back the sob clawing up my throat. "Is he... gone?" Ethan, my brother, barely glanced at me before addressing the doctor, his voice rough. "Not yet." The man shook his head slowly. "But he won't last the night. He's been asking for his daughter." I took an instinctive step forward—then froze. His daughter. It couldn't be me. After ten years of indifference and resentment, the daughter my dying father wanted to see would never be me. Ethan's laugh was ice. "Ten years, and our family is still paying for your mistakes!" I turned to face him, tears streaking my cheeks. A decade since I'd last stood this close—since he'd looked at me. Time had sharpened him into a true Alpha: broader shoulders, harder jaw, a dominance that rolled off him in waves. But the hatred in his eyes? That hadn't changed. My heart gave a vicious twist, like claws raking flesh. "Because of you," he snarled at me, "Celeste moved away. Because of you, she can't be here. Because of you, Dad will die with his last wish unfulfilled." "Yes, it's all my fault." My laugh was bitter, weighted with decades of pain. "After all these years, I'm still the first one blamed. No one cares about the truth—or how I feel!" Tears burst forth, my outburst freezing Ethan for a heartbeat. But just as quickly, his voice turned razor-sharp: "Your feelings? You stole your sister's fiancé and dare to talk about feelings?" My nails dug deep into my palms, reopening that ugly old scar. Ten years ago, at the Blood Moon Hunt, I'd just turned twenty—the age when every werewolf finds their mate. After a lifetime of being overlooked, I'd been desperate for that bond. As a child, I'd foolishly dreamed it might be Kieran. But then he fell for Celeste—perfect, radiant Celeste, the darling of the entire Frostbane Pack—and I learned my place soon enough. What was I? The Alpha's defective daughter, the one who couldn't even shift. Nothing. When even my own family and pack barely spared me a glance, how could Kieran possibly want me? I never expected to change anything. But that night, when I heard about his impending engagement to Celeste, the pain cut deeper than any claw. For the first time, I let myself drown in drink. I expected to wake up forgotten in some dark cornerNever did I imagine I'd find myself unclothed in Kieran's bed. The liquor had burned through my senses. That night remained a haze of fractured memories. Before I could piece together what happened, Celeste burst in—her shriek slicing through the air as she took in the scene. Then came the chaos: Celeste's hysterical sobs, Kieran's guilt-ridden apologies, the pack's venomous whispers, my stammered explanations—all silenced by my father's resounding slap across my face. "I regret ever bringing you into this world!" The aftermath played out in muted horror. Kieran carrying Celeste's unconscious form to the infirmary. Ethan snarling at gawking packmates. My mother's muffled weeping. And Father's eyes—Gods—that look of pure revulsion. I'd always known he despised me, but never with such intensity it stole the breath from my lungs. "I didn't..." My whisper died unheard. No one listened. No one. Overnight, I became the pack's favorite sin to punish. Where they'd once mocked my defective shifting, now they spat “Easy, girl,” like a benediction. Even low-ranking Omegas cornered me in shadowed corridors, their hands and insults alike too bold. Females crossed themselves when I passed, hissing "husband-thief" like a curse. The weight of it crushed me. When Celeste's admirers left death threats carved into my door, I gathered what little I owned and fled under a new moon. I intended to vanish forever... until the morning sickness began. Until the physician announced my pregnancy to the entire Blood Council. That was the only reason Kieran married me. He was an honorable man, an Alpha who would never desert his heir. Yet it tore my family apart. My parents and brother hated me for breaking Celeste's heart. Kieran's pack, NightFang, loathed me because I was not the Luna they wanted. And Celeste was so enraged, she moved abroad. "You ruined everything!" Ethan's accusing voice cut through my thoughts. The venom in his glare cut deep. Undiluted after a decade. Blood may have made us siblings, but Ethan had never once treated me as his sister. Celeste was the only sister he cherished. He loathed me for driving her away. But was it truly all my fault? I may be weak and ordinary, but never so vile as to deliberately seduce my sister's lover. Yet they never cared. They just needed someone to blame. "See this?" My hands trembled, but my voice hardened like winter frost. "My voice was never heard. My existence never mattered. So tell me, Mom—" I turned to face her, throat constricted. "If you never wanted me, why didn't you just smother me in my cradle? Why pretend I still mattered enough to call me here?" "How dare you speak to Mom like that?!" Ethan roared, his canines lengthening. "Marrying Kieran didn't magically make you Luna material. That title was always meant for Celeste!" "I never asked for any of this!" I snarled back, bitterness filling my tone. "I was ready to disappear. You could have let Celeste and Kieran have their perfect mating ceremony and pretended I never existed!" Ethan's lips curled mockingly. "Don't play the martyr," he sneered. “You knew darn well Kieran would never abandon his pup—” "Ethan!" Mother's command carried the faintest echo of her former Luna authority, though her scent now held only exhaustion and grief. "Enough. We will not waste your father's final moments on this old blood feud." She couldn't even look at me as she said, "Go see your father." Her gaze darted away like the sight of me pained her. Ethan shot me one last venomous glare before slumping into a chair. Steeling myself, I pushed open the door. The fear nearly choked me—fear of seeing that familiar disappointment in his eyes one last time. But when I saw him lying there, the man I'd spent my life both fearing and longing to please... Gone was the towering figure of my nightmares. The father who'd once seemed invincible now lay motionless, his chest swathed in bandages, his face ashen. The eyes that had always burned with contempt when they looked at me... now held nothing at all. Tears streamed down my face. Why did this hurt so much? This man—this giant who'd hated me from the moment I presented as a wolfless. Who'd looked at Celeste with pride and me with shame. The memory of our last meeting still clawed at my heart. There had been no wedding for Kieran and me. No celebration. Only my father's iron grip forcing my hand to scrawl my name on the marriage paper. "Now you've gotten what you wanted," he'd snarled, his Alpha power choking the air between us. "From this day forward, you are no daughter of mine." I'd never wept so violently—never begged so desperately. But all I earned was the frozen line of his back and his final, venomous curse: "Your birth was a mistake, Seraphina. Dare to show your face again, and I swear you'll never know another moment of happiness." He kept his promise. His curse had poisoned every moment of my life, while my "honorable" husband turned our marriage into a gilded cage with his endless silence and contempt. I should have hated them all—this family, this fate. But when my father's fingers twitched weakly on the sheets, my traitorous heart lurched. Before I could think, I was at his side, clutching his ice-cold hand. "Dad?" My voice trembled with something dangerously close to hope. His pale lips parted slightly, as if struggling to form words. But before he could speak— BEEEP—! The heart monitor screamed. The line on the screen flattened. "NO!" The cry tore from my throat. He couldn't leave—not like this. Not before I saw forgiveness in his eyes. Not before we could unravel the knots binding our hearts. The door burst open. Ethan and Mother shoved me aside, sending me crashing to the floor. "He's gone..." Mother collapsed against Ethan, her body wracked with violent sobs. "My mate... my Alpha...!" Ethan's grief choked him silently—until his gaze locked onto me. His wolf was on the surface, teeth bared. I didn't doubt for a second he'd rip my throat out. Until Mother caught his arm. "You viper," he hissed. "Whatever scrap of happiness you've clung to—I'll rip it from you." A hollow laugh echoed through my mind. Why were they all so obsessed with stealing my happiness? Something I'd never had. The doctor entered, murmuring to my mother, "Luna, we must prepare Alpha Edward's remains." I numbly walked into the hall, my soul scraped raw, tears falling unchecked. As the pack's elite arrived, none acknowledged me—just as it had always been. But their indifference barely influenced me now. I stood numb before the chamber holding Father's body, still unable to grasp the truth that he would never open his eyes to us again— Until Kieran's voice cut through the silence. "My deepest condolences, Margaret." He took my mother's hands, every inch the dutiful son-in-law. "Rest assured, I'll assist Ethan with every arrangement." Moonlight from the windows gilded his broad shoulders, the silver streaks at his temples only heightening the aura of a prime Alpha in his prime. Not a hair out of place despite the midnight summons. The deadliest Alpha of the NightFang Pack. Just his presence was enough to control the air. "Your presence comforts me, Kieran," Mother wept, clutching his arm. When he embraced her, those piercing dark eyes found mine over her shoulder—then flicked away as if spotting a stain on the wall. "What exactly happened?" he asked as he turned to Ethan. "How could Edward get attacked?" Ethan's jaw clenched. "Routine border patrol. “But the wretched rogues came in numbers we’ve never seen—armed with silver weapons." His throat worked as he fought for control. "It was an ambush. Father never stood a chance." My mother's renewed sobs filled the corridor. Kieran gripped Ethan's shoulder— "The rogues will pay for this," he vowed. I hovered at the periphery, an outsider in my own family's tragedy. The three of them—Mother, Ethan, and Kieran—stood united in their grief, an unbreakable circle I couldn't penetrate. "I've sent for Celeste," Ethan added suddenly. "She should be arriving soon." "Oh, my poor girl!" Mother wept into her hands. "To miss her father's final moments..." My gaze flickered unbidden to Kieran's face. Our eyes locked again. His expression remained unreadable—arctic, assessing, utterly devoid of warmth. Ten years sharing a bed, yet he still felt galaxies away. I'd never touched his heart. And now, with Celeste's return, a terrible truth crushed my chest like an iron weight: I was about to lose my second family. If my wolf lived within me, she would have whined low in her throat. I didn't know if I could survive the coming storm—but one thing burned brighter than fear: No matter what arrived, no one would take my son from me. No one. SERAPHINA'S POV The fragile silence was shattered as a piercing cry echoed down the sterile hallway. "Papa! Where are you?" Every head turned in unison. My stomach plummeted as Celeste came into view—her golden hair whipping behind her, cheeks flushed from running. Her eyes were rimmed with tears, but her beauty remained utterly breathtaking. After ten years, my sister's sudden appearance struck me like a physical blow. I almost instinctively turned to Kieran, whose mouth had fallen open, staring at Celeste like she was a dream he was scared to wake up from. The raw longing in his eyes was enough to answer the question that had haunted me for a decade: his heart had never been mine. "Tell me I'm not too late," Celeste begged, her voice breaking. When no one answered immediately, her knees buckled. Kieran moved faster than any werewolf had a right to. He caught her before she hit the ground, cradling her against his chest as my mother and brother descended into the huddle. Their tangled limbs and shared sobs painted the perfect family portrait—one I'd never been part of. The thought clawed at my throat. I'd lost my father too. Didn't I deserve to mourn? But this was Celeste's world. It always had been. From the moment she'd taken her first steps, everyone had watched her, admired her, loved her. As Celeste shone, I became a shadow. And now, as her whimpers filled the room, I might as well have been invisible. The exit beckoned. Better to leave with what little dignity remained than wait for their inevitable rejection. Not a single head turned as I slipped away. My tears had dried by the time I reached home, leaving salt tracks on my cheeks. But the hollow ache in my chest? That felt like it would linger forever. My first stop was Daniel's room to check up on him. I was surprised to see light under his door, and when I pushed it open, I found my nine-year-old curled into himself, knees drawn to his chest like a tiny fortress against the world. "Mommy?" His voice was too small, too knowing. I perched on the edge of his racecar bed. "Sweetheart, why are you up?" He worried his lower lip between his teeth. "Something's wrong with Grandpa Edward, right?" The air left my lungs. How did I tell this bright-eyed boy that the man who'd taught him to track deer just last summer was gone? I smoothed his pajama-covered knee. "Honey, there was... an incident tonight. Grandpa got hurt—" "He died." Daniel's whisper held an eerie certainty. "Our bond... it broke." My hand stilled. At nine, he shouldn't have been able to feel the pack bonds severing. Yet here he was, demonstrating the very wolf-sensitivity I'd spent his lifetime praying he'd inherit. Relief warred with awe—he wouldn't be like me. Wouldn't bear the shame of being the Alpha's defective child, a werewolf whose wolf never manifested. "Come here, my brave boy." I gathered him close, breathing in his scent of maple syrup and childish sweat. However much I regretted that disastrous Blood Moon Hunt, I'd never regret the miracle it gave me. Daniel was the one pure thing in my life—the only heart that loved me without conditions. As I tucked the spaceship-patterned blanket around his shoulders, he turned those soulful eyes on me—Kieran's eyes in miniature. "You and Daddy will always be here, right?" The question lanced through me. I feathered my fingers through his hair, just like I had when he was a baby fighting sleep. "Oh, my love..." How could I explain that his father had never truly been mine to keep? That the way Kieran had looked at Celeste tonight—like the sun had risen after a decade of darkness—was a look he'd never once given me? That their embrace in the hospital corridor had been more intimate than any he and I had shared in ten years of marriage? "Mommy's not going anywhere," I promised, pressing a kiss to his furrowed brow. "Your daddy and I love you more than anything," I whispered. "Nothing will ever change that." His sleepy smile gutted me. "Night, Mommy." "Sweet dreams, my heart." I kissed his forehead, lingering a moment too long before slipping out. The kitchen's fluorescent lights buzzed as I rummaged through the fridge. Glass bottles clinked—then froze mid-reach at the sound of the front door. Kieran. Home already. I'd expected him to stay all night at the hospital, comforting her. Reconnecting with her. He moved through the darkened house like a shadow, his broad shoulders filling the kitchen doorway. Moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face as his gaze swept over me—empty. Always empty. The refrigerator hummed between us as he reached past my shoulder. His cedar-and-rain scent enveloped me for one treacherous heartbeat before he withdrew, cracking open a water bottle. "Did you... want something to eat?" My voice sounded too small in the silence. "You missed dinner." Nothing. Just the working of his throat as he drank, the corded muscles flexing beneath stubble I'd never been allowed to touch. The crushed plastic hitting the recycling bin made me flinch. He braced himself against the countertop, head bowed like Atlas bearing the world. I knew this dance by heart—ten years of speaking to a ghost. "I'll just..." I edged toward the doorway. "Seraphina." My name in his mouth was always a shock. Like being doused in ice water. I turned slowly. Moonlight carved hollows beneath his cheekbones, his expression unreadable as ever. "We need to talk." The quiet words sent a bolt of dread through me. His grip on the counter turned his knuckles bone-white. No preamble. No softening. Just Kieran's brutal efficiency, as always. "I want a divorce." Ten years. Ten years I'd waited for this axe to fall. Funny how it still cut like a surprise. SERAPHINA'S POV The words shouldn't have hurt—not after a decade of waiting for this moment. Yet they sliced through me like silver, the pain radiating from my shattered heart to every nerve ending. I'd always known that Kieran would eventually ask for this. Especially now. Celeste. His first crush. His real love. Back. It didn't matter that I'd loved him since we were children, long before Celeste ever noticed him. It didn't matter that I'd given him a son. The moment she returned, I became invisible—just as I'd always been in his eyes. Celeste was the dazzling diamond, blinding everyone to the plain pebble at her feet. I knew this. So why did it still feel like my soul was being ripped in two? "It's because of Celeste, isn't it?" My voice was eerily calm. I already knew the answer, but some masochistic part of me needed to hear him say it. Needed him to twist the knife deeper. Kieran's eyes flashed—the first real emotion he'd shown me in years. "No," he snapped, jaw clenched. "Of course not." Liar. He dragged a hand through his dark brown hair, exhaling sharply. "Edward's death just... reminded me life's too short to waste on a mistake." A mistake. I would have preferred the knife. Would have rather he screamed Celeste's name than reduce our marriage—our son—to a regret. I couldn't help but laugh out. The sound was jagged, hysterical, tearing from my throat as Kieran stared at me like I'd lost my mind. Maybe I had. I laughed because the alternative was screaming. My gaze traced the lines of this man I knew yet didn't know at all, this stranger I'd loved for eighteen years who had never truly seen me. Who was more pitiable—him or me? He loved Celeste, yet honor and a single mistake had chained him to a marriage he never wanted. What had these ten years given us? If not for that night, if we hadn't been forced into this loveless union, would his eyes have held even a flicker of warmth for me? We were never meant to be like this. Even though I could never regret Daniel, I'd meant it that night—I'd been ready to vanish. I should have run farther. Should never have stepped into that clinic, never let them know about the pregnancy. I'd told myself staying, enduring, was for Daniel's sake. But now, I couldn't lie to myself anymore. What kind of life had I given him, with parents whose hearts were oceans apart? While Celeste was gone, Kieran had played the part of a dutiful father. But now she was back, and the fragile facade of our marriage would shatter. I won't let my son watch his mother become a laughingstock. "Fine," I said at last, the laughter dying on my lips. Kieran's brows lifted. Had he expected tears? Begging? Had he wanted to see me break? Too bad. My entire life, people had hungered for my surrender. But I refused to give them another ounce of my pain. When I walked away from this marriage, I would take only two things: My dignity. And my son. "I want full custody of Daniel." His shock morphed into fury. "The heck you will! He’s my son!” "And mine!" I snarled back. "You can't take the pack's heir from his Alpha!" Kieran's voice shook with barely leashed rage. "And you can't take a mother's heart from her chest!" My hands trembled, but my voice didn't waver. "I don't want your money. Your property. Anything. Just my son." Daniel was my only light in this wretched world. If Kieran took him from me... I wouldn't survive it. "And most importantly... You and Celeste will have new children." The words stole the breath from my lungs. Just the thought of it—of her giving him the pups I never could—made my chest ache like a fresh wound. But for Daniel, I would endure anything. Even this. I watched Kieran closely, his expression unreadable in the dim kitchen light. Finally, he gave a single stiff nod. "Fine. You can have full custody." The catch. He agreed so easily. Not a single denial. Not one word to contradict what I'd said about him and Celeste. He still preferred a family with her, didn't he? And the most pathetic part? Some foolish, desperate corner of my heart had still hoped. Still waited for him to say something—anything—to prove our marriage hadn't been just a prison sentence to him. I pressed my palms to my stinging eyes. Gods, what was wrong with me? I couldn't afford to hope anymore. Not tonight. If I didn't leave here soon, I'd collapse right here on the cold tiles— Then Kieran caught my wrist. He cleared his throat awkwardly, his grip warm against my skin. "We can wait until after the funeral to finalize everything, if you prefer." For one dangerous moment, I almost believed him. Almost thought this was kindness. If only he'd shown me this consideration once in ten years. I wrenched my arm free. "No need to delay. It's not like there's much to dissolve—you never even gave me a mating mark." The one thing he'd refused when we married. That, and loving me. "Your wolf never came," he'd said that night we got married, his voice carefully blank. "A mating bond would only cause you pain when..." When we inevitably divorced. He hadn't finished the sentence, but we both knew. Just like we both knew the real reason—the mark belonged to Celeste in his mind. Always had. The bitter truth settled in my chest: he'd planned for this ending from the very beginning. What difference did it make now? Whether it was pity or premeditation, the result was the same—my neck remained unmarked, my heart remained broken, and Kieran would walk away free. Kieran's brow furrowed deeper. "Seraphina, there's no need for bitterness. Our marriage was a mistake—I only hope we can both move on." His voice softened, that hint of pity making my stomach churn. "You deserve—" "Oh, spare me." I turned away before he could see how his pity cut me deeper than his anger ever could. "Don't worry—I've saved enough to support myself and Daniel. You'll be free by tomorrow." The shock on his face was almost comical. Had he truly expected me to fight for him? To beg? Yes, I loved him. I still do. But ten years of trying to thaw his heart had taught me this: no amount of warmth could melt a glacier that didn't want to be moved. And now that Celeste was back? Did he think I'd delude myself into believing I ever stood a chance? Why crush what's left of my pride just to feed an Alpha's ego? I'd learned my lesson. A decade in this loveless marriage had been enough. I was done fighting for people who never wanted me. My steps were numb as I climbed the stairs, memories of Kieran flashing like ghosts behind my eyes: *The bright smile he'd given me when we first met as children. *Me watching from the shadows when he won his first Hunt. *The way my heart shattered as he placed the victory garland on Celeste's head, her lips meeting his in a sweet kiss. *The blur of liquor glasses when their engagement was announced. *That catastrophic night that started it all. *Then—Daniel's birth, his first steps, every milestone since... Halfway up the staircase, Daniel's sleepy voice echoed in my mind: "You and Dad will always be here, right?" My heart lurched. Gods. How do we tell him? I whirled around, my earlier resolve cracking. "How... how do we explain this to Daniel?" Kieran paused mid-sip of water. "I'll handle it." Of course. He's already planned for this, too. My fists clenched. "And you needn't worry about finances," he added stiffly. "Daniel is still my son. I'll cover his expenses—and yours." I couldn't read his expression. After ten years, the view I knew best was still his poker face. But this time, I refused to waste energy deciphering him. Tomorrow, once the papers were signed, we'd be strangers. As he wished. I turned without answering. The bedroom door clicked shut behind me—then the dam broke. Silent sobs wracked my body as I slid to the floor, the day's grief finally overwhelming me. Somewhere downstairs, the floorboards creaked. Kieran was probably already packing. Probably already picturing Celeste in this house, raising my son. My hand flew to my unmarked throat—where his teeth should have been. Where a mating bond should have sealed us together. "It's okay, Sera," I whispered into the hollow dark, arms wrapped tight around my shaking ribs. "You'll survive this." For my son—I'll survive anything. SERAPHINA'S POV I returned from the lawyer's office feeling like my soul had been put through a shredder. Walking through the front door gave me a strange kind of anxiety. Maybe it was because I knew this was one of the last times I would be here again. I let my gaze roam the foyer, taking in every detail—Daniel's baby picture on the mantel, the portrait taken of Kieran when he was ordained Alpha, the picture of Daniel and me on his fifth birthday. There were no pictures of Kieran and me. Shocker. I headed straight to Kieran's office. I had left early in the morning, not wanting to run into him and have an awkward conversation about the upcoming divorce. I'd also been avoiding Daniel, I think. How could I look into those innocent eyes and explain that his family was breaking apart? "I don't... get it." Daniel's small, confused voice stopped me outside Kieran's office. The door was slightly ajar, and I saw Daniel sitting in a chair in front of Kieran's desk like a visitor. Kieran sat opposite him, looking at our son with a tenderness he never showed me. He leaned forward and took Daniel's hands in his. "Mommy and Daddy won't be living together anymore, champ." "But... why?" Daniel's lower lip trembled. "Don't you love Mom?" I tensed. How was Kieran going to answer that? Surely he wouldn't tell our son he didn't love his mother. But the only other option was to lie. Kieran sighed and stood from his seat. He walked over to Daniel's side and took his hands again, crouching to our son's level. "You know, your mom gave me the greatest gift in the world," he said. He reached up and gently patted Daniel's head. "You. And for that? I'll always love her." My chest tightened. For ten years, I'd desperately wanted to hear those words from Kieran, and now, there they were—while I held divorce papers in my hands. But I knew what they truly meant—Kieran only married me because I gave him Daniel. He only tolerated me for a decade because I was the mother of his heir. It was more proof that our marriage was one-sided. His true, unconditional love was reserved for Celeste. A choked sound escaped me. Kieran went rigid. His head snapped up, wolf-quick, those gold-flecked eyes narrowing at the door. "We don't spy on private conversations," he said coolly, rising to his full height. The Alpha voice. The one that made the pack members bow automatically. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. "Mommy!" Daniel stood and went to me, throwing his arms around my waist. "Hi, honey." I kissed the top of his head. "Is it true?" he asked, looking up at me with wide, glassy eyes. I stroked his head. "I—" "Danny, give your mom and me some space, okay? Go help Chef with dinner preparations." Daniel pouted. "But—" "Now." That single word carried the weight of command. I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "We'll talk more at home, baby. Go on." Daniel sighed and walked out, his shoulders slightly slumped. I closed the door behind me. Kieran's gaze dropped to the papers in my hand. Something unreadable flickered across his face. "I assume those are the papers?" I nodded, suddenly feeling nervous. "My lawyer drafted the agreement, stating the custody terms." I moved forward and placed the document on the desk. "Everything's clearly outlined—visitation schedules, holidays, education decisions..." Kieran opened the folder and pulled out the documents. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his eyes darted over the pages. "Um, I also met with a realtor she suggested," I continued, clasping my hands before me. "She showed me a lovely house about thirty minutes from here. It's fully furnished—ready to move in—and the mortgage is very reasonable. It's in neutral territory, so you can visit anyt—" "Where's the fire?" I paused, frowning at Kieran. "What?" "I'm the one who asked for a divorce." He dropped the papers on the desk. "Yet here you are with moving plans and legal documents before the ink's even dry. Were you counting down the days?" The truth burned my tongue—yes, every single one of the 3,652 days we'd been married. But admitting that would only give him more ammunition to use against me in the custody battle I feared was coming. Kieran scoffed at my silence and sat back in his chair. "Leave the address of your new home," he said. "My son and I will have dinner, then I'll send him your way, along with your signed copy of the papers." The finality in his voice extinguished my hope of one last family meal. Of course, the great Alpha Kieran wouldn't deign to break bread with his soon-to-be ex-wife. I left Kieran's office, the hole in my chest yawning further. I hadn't been able to sleep last night after the news, so I'd used that time to pack all my belongings. I'd never been given a proper chance to make this place my home, so everything I owned fit into two suitcases. After loading my car with it, instead of driving away, I just sat in the driver's seat. I stared up at the house before me, recalling all my memories. The ones I'd made with Daniel were bright and colorful, filled with love and laughter. But the memories of Kieran were grey, dull, and empty. Every stilted conversation, every withheld touch, every smile he saved for someone else. The shrill ringtone shattered my reverie. My mother's name flashing on the screen sent ice through my veins. Two calls in as many days after a decade of silence? The universe clearly had jokes. "Hi, Mom." I forced cheer into my voice. "How are you holding up?" She bypassed pleasantries like always. "Is it true?" My fingers tightened around the phone. "Is what true?" "That you're finally divorcing Kieran." The breath left my lungs. Of course she knew. Kieran had probably called Celeste last night. "Yes," I ground out between clenched teeth. The sound of my mother's relieved sigh cut deeper than any blade. Actual, blessed relief. "It's for the best," she said. "The marriage was a mistake to begin with. This... this is the correction we've all been waiting for." My mouth fell open. A single, betrayed tear slipped free. What kind of mother celebrates her daughter's heartbreak? The answer came swiftly and bitterly—the kind who always wanted her other daughter to win. I hung up without another word and powered off my phone before she could twist the knife further. Just then, the front door opened, and Daniel walked out. Kieran walked out after him, shouldering a large duffle bag. I frowned. No way that was all Daniel's things. Kieran was making a point—it didn't matter that we moved, Daniel's home was still here. Daniel saw me in the car, and his eyes lit up. I exited the car as he rushed to me, and I hugged him. "I said I'd bring him over," Kieran snapped, coming closer. "I'm sorry, I just wanted—" "Is this how it's going to be?" he cut me off. "It's bad enough you're moving my son away from me, but you're also cutting into my time with him?" Daniel's small hand tugged at Kieran's sleeve. "Dad... It's okay." His voice was soft but steady. "We'll see each other tomorrow. At Grandpa's funeral." Kieran's jaw clenched hard enough to crack stone. For a heartbeat, I thought he might argue—but then he exhaled sharply and ruffled Daniel's hair. "Yeah. Tomorrow, champ." His gaze flicked to me, cold and dismissive. "Be good for your mother." He handed the duffle bag to me and went back inside without another word. I swallowed the lump in my throat and loaded the bag in silence. Daniel climbed into the passenger seat without complaint, his too-wise eyes watching me carefully. As I pulled away, I forced myself not to look back—not at the house, not at the life I'd failed to make work. Two minutes into the drive, Daniel rummaged through his backpack and produced a slightly squashed sandwich. "You didn't eat dinner," he said simply, pressing it into my hand. The tears I'd been trying so hard to hold in spilled out. "Daniel..." My voice cracked. "Do you hate me? For this? For taking you away from your dad?" He considered it with a solemnity no nine-year-old should possess. My heart stalled, braced for the blow— "No." He fiddled with his seatbelt. "I know you were sad a lot. Maybe now you can be happy." A sob tore free. The road blurred. His small hand slipped into mine, squeezing tight. "Don't cry, Mom." His whisper was fierce with promise. "You've got me. I'll make you happy." I brought his knuckles to my lips, tasting salt and hope. So what if Kieran never loved me? This remarkable boy did—wholeheartedly, unconditionally—and in that moment, it was enough. More than enough. SERAPHINA'S POV Another sleepless night. The irony wasn't lost on me—I hadn't shared a bed with Kieran in years, yet the unfamiliar silence of this new house felt louder than any absence. Every time I closed my eyes, the ghosts of what might have been danced behind my lids. Three times I'd crept down the hall to check on Daniel, only to find him curled peacefully under his Star Wars comforter, his breathing deep and even. Thank the moon for small mercies. This modest house might lack the imposing security of the Alpha Manor, but I'd fill every inch with enough love to compensate. When dawn's pale fingers finally pried through my blackout curtains, a lead weight settled in my stomach. Today we'd bury my father. I dressed slowly, each movement weighted with dread. It wasn't grief that paralyzed me—our relationship had died long before his heart stopped beating. No, it was the prospect of facing my family's judgmental stares, of standing across a coffin from Kieran while our divorce papers gathered fresh ink. Ex-husband. The term scraped against my raw nerves. Daniel's door creaked as I pushed it open. My breath caught—there he sat, already dressed in the miniature black suit we'd picked out together, his small fingers deftly maneuvering his Nintendo Switch. "Morning, Mom." He flashed me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Tears pricked my lashes. Where had my baby gone? The boy staring back at me wore Kieran's strong jawline, his piercing gaze. A living reminder of everything I'd lost—and everything I'd gained. "Look at you," I whispered, smoothing his lapel. "All grown up." Sadness shadowed his face, but he steeled himself and put the video game console aside. "Let's go," he whispered, shoulders squaring with forced bravery. But when the old stone church loomed into view, Daniel's courage faltered. His knuckles whitened around the car door handle. "Hey." I cupped his tense shoulder. "Talk to me." When he turned, the unshed tears in his eyes shattered me. "We didn't... we didn't get to say goodbye. Does that mean Grandpa doesn't know we loved him?" The question hit like a silver dagger between my ribs. While my father's absence had become my normal, Daniel had lost his favorite storytelling partner, his secret cookie supplier. I pressed my palm over his thundering heart. "Grandpa's right here, my love." My voice cracked. "And here." I tapped his temple gently. "As long as we remember him, he's never really gone." Daniel exhaled shakily, some of the tension leaving his small frame. "Okay." "Ready?" His nod was all the strength I needed. Together, we stepped out of the car. The church doors swallowed us into a sea of mourners—pack members in their finest black, allies from neighboring territories, and a scattering of human associates who'd done business with my father. The air hummed with whispered condolences and the cloying scent of lilies. My family sat like royalty in the front pew. My mother's head rested against Ethan's shoulder, while Celeste— Gods. Even in grief, my sister looked like she'd stepped from a magazine spread. Sunlight through stained glass windows gilded her perfect blonde waves, her designer dress clinging to curves that had always made my own frame feel boyish in comparison. "Daniel, darling!" My mother's arms opened wide as we approached—not for me, never for me—but for the grandson who carried the Blackthorne name. The grandson who mattered. I watched numbly as Daniel was enfolded in her embrace, his small frame disappearing against her black lace. That left only one vacant seat—sandwiched between Celeste and the end of the pew. My sister's glacial blue eyes raked over me. A decade apart, yet her hatred hadn't dimmed. She inched away as I sat, the silk of her dress whispering against the pew like a snake's warning. Trying to force my thoughts away from the family who didn't want me, I let my gaze wander round the hall—and land on another family that didn't want me. The Blackthornes occupied the opposite side of the aisle, Kieran's broad shoulders cutting an imposing silhouette beside his parents. Leona Blackthorne's lips pursed when she noticed me looking. Like my family rejected me, the Blackthornes refused to accept me. To them, I was Kieran's legal wife, not his Luna. His mother, Leona, still held the title of Luna even after the Alpha title was passed to Kieran. Now, she regarded me icily. I'm sure she was ecstatic over the divorce news. The stain on her family was finally gone. A small, warm hand slipped into mine. Daniel had extricated himself from my mother's clutches and now formed a living barrier between me and Celeste. His fingers squeezed mine—a silent I'm here. I squeezed back, drawing strength from this remarkable child who shouldn't have needed to be the brave one. The organ's mournful chords signaled the service's start. Just a few more hours. I could hold myself together that long. Couldn't I? *** I had to give Celeste credit—her timing was impeccable. She waited through the entire service. Waited through the graveside ceremony as we each scattered handfuls of earth onto our father's coffin. Waited until the crowd dispersed, leaving only Daniel and me watching the gravediggers begin their solemn work. "How thoughtful of you to offer help with the funeral arrangements." Her voice sliced through my grief like a silver blade. I stiffened but didn't turn. "I meant it." The hollow ache in my chest deepened. My single text offering assistance had gone unanswered—my mother's silence spoke volumes. With Celeste back, I was more obsolete. Celeste's laugh was all sharp edges. "As if anyone would accept anything from you." The wind carried her cloying jasmine perfume as she stepped closer. "Ten years, sister," she hissed. "Ten years you played house with my life. But I'm reclaiming what's mine—my family, my position..." Her breath warmed my ear. "My Kieran." I almost started laughing in front of my father's grave. The absurdity—Celeste had always owned them all. Their love, their loyalty, Kieran's heart—none of it had ever truly been mine to lose. "Welcome home," I murmured to the freshly turned earth. Today was about honoring my father, not fighting battles I was destined to lose. Celeste always won. The crunch of gravel announced her departure. I didn't need to look to know she'd gone straight to Kieran—could picture perfectly how Leona's face would light up, how Kieran's arms would open instinctively. When Daniel shifted beside me, I caught the confirmation in my periphery: Celeste tucked against Kieran's chest like she belonged there, smirking over his shoulder. "Mom?" Daniel's small hand found mine. My brave boy, standing guard between me and the world. "Can I go see Grandma?" The plea in his eyes undid me. However much they rejected me, Daniel deserved his family. "Of course, sweetheart." My kiss lingered in his hair as he dashed away. From across the field, I watched Christian scoop Daniel up with grandfatherly ease, Leona fussing over his suit. At least they loved him—the one good thing to come from this sham of a marriage. Alone now, I faced the gaping hole in the earth. The gaping hole in my life. "Goodbye, Dad," I whispered to the wind, my tears falling not just for the father I'd lost, but for the daughter he'd never truly seen. I turned from my father's grave, my heels sinking into the soft earth as I made for the sanctuary of my car. I'd wait there—alone, invisible—until this miserable affair was over. I was halfway out of the gravesite when chaos ensued. One minute: a somber afternoon pierced only by muffled sobs. The next: a nightmare of snarls and screams as rogues poured from the tree line like shadows given teeth. Daniel. His name was a prayer on my lips as I whirled back, scanning the chaos. My brother's wolf stood guard over our mother, his fangs dripping crimson. Across the clearing, Kieran's massive golden-brown form circled Celeste—of course. No one looked my way. No one remembered the wolfless daughter, the defective mate, the easy target. The rogues noticed. Yellow eyes locked onto me as gaunt forms slunk closer, nostrils flaring at the scent of my fear. "Daniel!" My scream tore through the cacophony. Where was he? Who— A crushing weight slammed into my back, claws tearing across my skin. I hit the ground hard, the world tilting as I scrambled backward. Above me, an emaciated rogue wolf loomed, rancid drool splattering my cheeks as it snarled. This was it. After everything, I'd die on my knees in the dirt. My gaze darted desperately through the fray. My shoulder was on fire, hot, thick liquid trickling down my back, but all that mattered was Daniel. Please, I silently begged whatever deity was listening, just let me see him one last time— The rogue lunged. Just before he bit my head off, a black blur intercepted mid-air, the sickening crunch of bones echoing as the attacking wolf was hurled aside. Towering over me, hackles raised and fangs bared, stood a massive black wolf I'd never seen before. KIERAN'S POV The scent of Seraphina's blood still haunted me. I couldn't purge that scene—rogues swarming, Daniel safe with my parents, Celeste needing my protection after years of neglecting combat training. But when those fangs flashed toward Sera... when her blood flooded the air, thick with pain... My heart stopped. Every Alpha instinct roared to shield her—my ex-wife, my son's mother, the mate I'd never publicly claimed. Yet before I could move, another shadow got involved first. I should've been grateful when that stranger tore the rogues apart. Should've thanked the moon when he saved Sera's life before it was too late. But watching him shift back, cradling her against his bare chest, a snarl ripped from my throat before I could choke it back. My canines throbbed, my vision bleeding amber. "Mine." My wolf, Ashar, snarled. The word was a lie. I had no right to it. Not after the divorce papers. Not after a decade of denying her my mark. Denied her the title of Luna. What kind of Alpha claims ownership over a mate he never truly claimed? So why did the sight of his hands on her waist make me want to uproot these blasted trees instead? "How is she?" My mother's voice on the phone dragged me back to the present. "Daniel wants to know." I glanced at the closed door of the treatment room in the ER in front of me, a cocktail of unfamiliar emotions stirring in my stomach. How was she? I didn't know. I'd seen her dress in tatters, seen the blood pouring down her back, but I wasn't the hero who'd saved her. Wasn't even the one who brought her here. Just the useless ex-husband waiting for news. No updates yet. No one had come to tell us anything. She had to be alive. She needed to be alive. How would I explain to Daniel if anything worse had happened to Sera? How would I justify protecting another woman instead of his defenseless, wolfless mother? Self-loathing burned through me. Whatever had passed between Sera and me, hurting Daniel was the last thing we wanted. "She's—" The door opened, and Seraphina walked out. Her right hand was in a sling, bandages poking out from under the rolled-up sleeve of the shirt. Because she didn't have a wolf, she wouldn't be able to heal as fast as werewolves did. The thought of her having to nurse the pain and deal with injury like a mundane task gave me an uncomfortable, gnawing feeling. Her head was turned inward, smiling at whoever was in the room—a doctor or nurse. "Thank you... I will... Yep." Then she turned, and our eyes met. I'd always thought Seraphina had beautiful eyes—flecks of green swirling in blue, like fish in a cerulean sea. For ten long years, I had deliberately avoided looking into them too deeply. Refused to acknowledge the devotion that once shimmered in their depths. I told myself I couldn't forget she was the woman who'd ruined my life. Couldn't surrender again to that dangerous allure and betray my love for Celeste. But now, seeing those same eyes regard me with nothing but glacial indifference, my heart clenched. Her smile fell. It was like that sea had frozen over, and there was nothing—not even anger for failing to protect her—just icy regard. "Sera!" I'd almost forgotten Margaret next to me. She had been sitting in the corner, silently praying to the Moon Goddess since they'd wheeled Sera in. Two hospital visits in one week—I doubted she could handle losing another family member. As soon as she spotted Sera coming out, she sprang up, rushing toward her daughter. Sera broke our gaze to view her mother, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. "Oh, darling, look at you." Margaret's voice trembled as she reached for Sera's injuries. "Excuse me," Sera stepped back, leaving her mother's hands suspended in empty air. "Who are you calling? It can't be me." "If you're looking for your darling—" Her gaze cut past Margaret to where Ethan and Celeste stood, "—she's right behind you." "Sera!" Ethan interjected, his Alpha tone sharp with disapproval. "Mother's just concerned. What did the doctors say?" "Since when does my survival matter to any of you?" The ice in her voice was a blade to the chest. This wasn't the Sera I knew. The woman who'd once clung to our rare kindness like sunlight, who'd shaped herself into whatever might earn a scrap of our affection. "The doctors said I'll live," she continued, that glacial stare flicking to me. "But then again..." A cold smile. "Who cares about an expendable nobody, so long as the important people are safe?" "That's not—" "Where is my son?" She cut off Margaret, turning to me with eyes stripped of all their former tenderness. As if I were just a stranger to her now. "At home," I answered stiffly. "With my parents." "I'll go get him." She gave a curt nod before walking toward the exit. "Wait—" My hand shot out, catching her wrist. "Daniel is safe where he is. You're in no condition to care for him right now." Her gaze dropped to where my fingers circled her arm, brow furrowing. I released her but blocked her path. "The rogues who attacked today are likely the same ones who targeted your father. This wasn't random, Sera. They're systematically hunting the Frostbane Pack members, trying to—" "What does that have to do with me?" The ice in her voice made the room collectively inhale. “For goodness’ sake, Sera!” Ethan snapped. "Are you really this dense? You're in danger!" "I stopped being a Frostbane member years ago." Her voice was a whip-crack. "Which means I'm safe." "Sera, listen—" I dragged a hand through my hair, frustration spiking. "And I'm not part of your pack either." She took a step closer, eyes glinting like shards of diamond. "Is this some new ploy to take Daniel from me?" "What?" I looked at her, unbelieving. "Then I don't understand why you're all standing here trying to stop me from getting my child." "Have you lost your mind, Sera?" Margaret exclaimed. "I've given you what you wanted." A shrug, feigning nonchalance. "The divorce is signed. I've moved out. The funeral's over. There's no reason for us to keep talking." My jaw tightened. "Sera, that's not—" "Try to take Daniel," she locked my eyes, a promise sharpened to a killing edge, "and you'll learn how sharp my teeth are—with or without a wolf." I exhaled through my nose. "Let me drive you." Sera froze. So did Celeste—I felt her stare burning into my back. Shit. I schooled my features into something colder. "Your car's still at the cemetery. Divorced or not, you're still my son's mother. That makes you my responsibility." "No." Her laugh was bitter as wolfsbane. "You already proved my point. Even when you're right beside me, you don't choose me. I won't trust my safety to someone who's resented me for a decade." "Sera." The warning in my voice should've made her flinch. She didn't even hesitate. Just walked out. And man—if that didn’t feel like a silver bullet to the chest. Sera was a viper. Her distance should've been a relief. So why did the line she’d drawn between us make me want to tear the whole darn world apart? Celeste's touch startled me. "This is just... temporary, right?" Her fingers trembled against my arm. "We won't have to keep doing this?" I forced my attention back to her—to the woman I'd loved for years. My rightful Luna-to-be. "Nothing changes." I covered her hand with mine, squeezing. "You'll always come first." "Kieran," she sobbed into my chest, "with Father gone, I—I don't feel safe. I need you." "I've got you," I murmured, pulling her closer. "No one will tear us apart again." Celeste nestled deeper into my embrace, her tears dampening my shirt. Yet my traitorous gaze kept drifting to that empty exit, where Sera disappeared. The unease coiled in my gut. Why? SERAPHINA'S POV "Mom!" Daniel unfolded himself from Christian Blackthorne's lap and raced to me as soon as I stepped in through the front door. I exhaled, catching his body against mine in a one-armed hug. I pressed his head against my chest, feeling his little heart thunder against me. He was fine; he was safe. My family had failed me in countless ways, but at least they'd protected him. I was so thankful for that. "Hi, baby," I whispered into his curls. Daniel pulled back and eyed my injured arm, wrapped in bandages and a sling, his face tightening. "You're hurt." His voice wobbled. I shook my head, cupping his cheek to pull his gaze away. "It's okay, my love." I pressed his head against my chest again, kissing his hair. "I'm okay." He clutched onto the fabric of the shirt I'd borrowed from a nurse, and the shudder that ran through him seemed to reverberate through me. "It's okay, Mom." His voice was muffled. "I'll take care of you." I closed my eyes as a tear slid down my cheek. "I know you will, baby." My strong, beautiful boy who loved me in a world where no one else did. "We'll take care of each other." "Is this how you conduct yourself?" Leona's voice sliced through the moment. "Entering my home without so much as an acknowledgment?" I looked up. The Blackthornes sat entwined on the couch, Leona's glare as sharp as ever. Once, that look would've sent me scrambling to apologize, to prove myself worthy. Yet now, looking between Leona and Christian, I waited for that pathetic part of me that always sought their validation to flare up. But—nothing. No fear. No anger. Just hollow acceptance. The chaos of today had changed something. It felt like a switch had been flipped inside me, and I just... didn't care anymore. This family had drained me dry, and I was done bleeding for them. I ruffled Daniel's curls. "Go say goodbye to your grandparents, hon," I said, my voice steady. Daniel's arms reluctantly dropped from around my waist, and he moved to Leona and Christian. I tried not to notice how Christian's arms circled Leona's waist—how natural their affection was. A lifetime ago, I'd foolishly dreamed Kieran might one day hold me like that. The memory almost made me laugh. After Daniel had hugged his grandparents, I took his hand and walked out of the house wordlessly and— Speaking of sights that stung my eyes. Kieran's familiar black G-Wagon was in the driveway. He was at the passenger side, and I watched as he grabbed Celeste's tiny waist and helped her out of the car. Bracing her hands on his shoulder, she looked up at him with adoration, and he looked at her with a tenderness he'd never once shown me. I waited for jealousy and bitterness to pull in my belly, but again—that nothing feeling. Just a dull ache behind my eyes. "Is she why?" Daniel's quiet voice stopped me cold. I turned to see my son staring ahead—at Kieran and Celeste—stonily, his dark eyes narrowed. "Is she the reason why Dad is leaving us?" I inhaled sharply. Celeste had left before Daniel was born, and he'd never met her. I wondered if any of my parents had told him about his aunt—the one whose man his mother allegedly stole. At that moment, Kieran and Celeste saw us. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and his hand dropped from around her waist. A brief expression crossed Kieran's face, and I must have been hallucinating from my painkillers because it looked a little bit like... guilt? I remembered the question I'd asked Kieran when he dropped the divorce bomb. "It's because of Celeste, isn't it?" "No," he'd lied. "Of course not." I forced a smile, cupping Daniel's chin. "No, baby," I lied, my voice too bright. "Of course not." The words tasted like ash. I hated lying to my son, but even more than that, I hated the idea of him getting hurt in any way. Whatever rocky relationship Kieran and I had was between both of us. I didn't want to expose Daniel to any unnecessary drama. Daniel's shoulders relaxed. He believed me—for now. "Come on." I took his hand, steering us away. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Daniel lift his hand in a small wave to Kieran. I kept walking, but the weight of someone's gaze burned between my shoulder blades— Hot enough to scar. *** "Are you okay, Mom?" Daniel asked, tugging the thick duvet over my shoulder. "Do you need anything else?" I smiled. He'd meant it when he said he'd take care of me—opening doors, helping me take an awkward, clothed towel bath, and even putting a bowl of mac and cheese in the microwave. It was cold in the middle, but I devoured the whole thing like it had five Michelin stars. "Just one more thing." I pulled the duvet open, patting the space beside me. Daniel grinned and, with a half-hearted eye-roll, climbed in. We hardly ever slept in the same bed anymore on account of Daniel being "way too old for cuddling." As far as I was concerned, such a thing wasn't possible. As long as I was alive, he was my baby and would always be the perfect age—and size—for cuddling. I gingerly draped my injured arm around his waist, and he cradled it in his arms. "Does it still hurt?" I tucked his head under my chin. "Not when I'm with you." There was a soft silence in which Daniel idly trailed a finger over the bandage. "Mom?" he said quietly after a while. "Hmm?" "When I grow up... when I get my wolf, I'll protect you. I promise." My throat constricted with emotion, and I closed my eyes tightly against the tears that immediately swam to the surface. Behind my eyelids, the faces of my so-called family flashed—my mother's performative grief, Kieran's infuriating indifference. Ten years I'd wasted trying to earn their love. Ten years of begging scraps from people who'd gladly watch me starve. But then— A rogue's fangs. A shadow leaping between us. Strong arms lifting me, the press of a tattoo against my cheek. The nurses' giggles when I'd asked about my savior: "Oh, that Alpha? He carried you in like you were made of glass." An Alpha who protected the weak. He'd saved many other wolves in the attack—mainly Omegas. That only opened up a myriad of questions. The strong usually didn't bother with the weak, especially since I didn't know him from anywhere. So, who was this Alpha with a thing for weak wolves? "Whoever he is... I hope I get to thank him someday." My fingers brushed the bandages on my arm. "For protecting the wolfless, defenseless little Sera." *** Daniel was still sleeping when I woke early t...
