Freya

The people in white weren’t hospital staff. They weren’t doctors. They were from a rehabilitation center. I realized it when I saw the logo stitched on their uniforms and heard one of them whisper, “Careful, she’s resisting.”

Resisting? Of course I was resisting.

“She’s an alcohol addict to the point of endangering people’s lives,” Archer said flatly behind me. “Rehabilitate her until she gets better.”

His voice carried authority. Finality. Like he was signing a document, not deciding my fate.

“No!” I screamed, thrashing against the straps binding my wrists. “I’m not an alcoholic! I only drank because Liam—”

My voice cracked before I could finish. Before I could say Liam died. Allison stepped forward right on cue.

She covered her mouth and let out a trembling sob. “Freya… please. This is for your own good.”

“You’re lying!” I shouted at her. “You were the one driving that night! You—”

“Don’t stress her,” one of the rehab personnel muttered.

Allison walked closer to me, tears sliding down her cheeks so perfectly it almost impressed me.

“I suggested this to Alpha Archer for you too,” she said softly, as if she was offering me mercy. “Think about your son. He wouldn’t want an alcoholic mother, right?”

Her words stabbed deeper than any blade.

I struggled harder. “You fucking liar! I am not an alcoholic! You were driving! You killed—”

The needle pierced my arm before I could finish. Cold liquid rushed into my veins.

My body grew heavy. My vision blurred. The last thing I saw was Allison clutching Archer’s arm while he watched me with nothing but disappointment.

---

When I woke up, the walls were white. Not hospital white, but sterile, empty, and suffocating white.

The window had bars. The door locked from the outside. I was in a rehabilitation center. Trapped.

The first thing I asked was for my phone. But they refused. The second thing I asked was to make a call. They refused that too.

“Alpha Archer arranged everything,” a nurse told me carefully. “You’re not allowed outside contact for now.”

For now.

They spoke like I was a danger to society. Like I was some drunk lunatic who had to be contained.

Meanwhile, while I was stuck there, my son’s body was still in the hospital. Unclaimed. No funeral. No proper goodbye. And I was locked up because my husband believed another woman over me.

The first few days, I screamed. I argued. I demanded they release me. But every outburst was documented. Every raised voice written down as “aggressive behavior.”

I learned quickly. Silence was safer. But silence didn’t mean surrender. If anything, the anger kept me alive.

At night, when the facility grew quiet, I lay awake staring at the ceiling. I would imagine Liam’s small hands reaching for me. I would remember how he used to crawl into my bed when he had nightmares.

And then I would remember the flat line. The anger would rise again, steady and burning.

They thought this place would break me. They were wrong. It was shaping me into something else. Something colder.

A few days later, I was allowed a visitor. I wasn’t expecting anyone.

When they led me to the small visitation room, my heart nearly stopped when I saw her.

Lyra. The nurse from the hospital. She rushed to me the moment the guard stepped back.

“Freya,” she whispered, eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.”

Seeing someone who knew the truth nearly shattered the wall I had built around myself.

“Lyra,” I breathed. “Please. Tell me. My son…”

Her eyes fell.

“They still haven’t released him,” she said softly. “The bill…”

I swallowed the pain. “Help me,” I begged, grabbing her hands across the table. “Please don’t let Alpha Archer or Allison go near Liam’s body. They don’t deserve to mourn him. They don’t deserve to touch him.”

Lyra started crying too. “I won’t let them,” she promised. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Please,” I whispered. “He’s all I have left.”

She squeezed my hands before the guard signaled time was up. As she walked away, I held onto that small thread of hope. At least someone was on my side.

A week later, Alpha Archer came. They informed me an Alpha was visiting, and the entire staff straightened their backs like royalty had arrived.

When he entered the room, he looked irritated. Impatient.

“Where’s my son?” he demanded immediately.

My son. Now he was yours?

The words burned my tongue, but I swallowed them. If I lost control, they would extend my stay here. So I said nothing.

He stepped closer to the table. “Freya, where is Liam?”

I looked at him calmly.

“You have no right to hide him from me,” he continued, anger building in his voice. “Did you send him to Crescent Pack? To your parents? Did you hide him there?”

Crescent Pack. My parents. The pack I abandoned for him.

“Did you fucking hide him there?” he growled.

I lifted my eyes to meet his. “Why don’t you ask Allison?” I replied evenly. “She seems to know everything. And you believe everything she says.”

His jaw clenched. For a moment, I thought he might grab me. Instead, he slammed his hand on the table and stormed out.

Not long after, Allison came. She brought Wallace with her. He looked perfectly fine. No bandages. No visible injuries. Not even a limp.

Allison sat across from me with that same fragile expression.

“Poor you,” she said softly. “I told you before, you should have lessened your alcohol intake.”

She was trying to provoke me. I knew it. I kept my hands folded on the table.I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

Wallace climbed onto the chair beside her, swinging his legs. That was when I saw it. The teddy bear in his arms. Brown. Worn. Stitched slightly at one ear.

My breath caught. On the small patch near its paw was embroidered a name. Liam.

My body moved before my mind could stop it.

I stood up so abruptly the chair screeched against the floor. I reached across the table and grabbed the bear.

“That’s mine,” Wallace whined, immediately bursting into tears.

“No,” I said, my voice shaking. “This belonged to Liam. This is my son’s.”

Allison’s eyes widened in fake shock. “Freya, what are you doing? Give that back to Wallace!”

“It’s Liam’s!” I cried. “It was his favorite!”

The last thing he held. The last thing he touched.

Allison stood up, trying to pull it from my hands. “Are you insane? He’s just a child!”

Footsteps thundered behind us. It was Alpha Archer. He was also there… he came with them. Like a freaking family.

“What’s happening?” he demanded.

Wallace ran to him crying. “Daddy! She took my bear!”

Allison quickly stepped beside Alpha Archer, wrapping an arm around Wallace.

“Freya just grabbed it from him,” she said tearfully. “He’s traumatized enough.”

The Alpha turned to me, fury blazing in his eyes. “It’s just a damn bear,” he snapped.

“It’s Liam’s,” I whispered. “It was his.”

“I gave Wallace Liam’s toys,” Alpha Archer said coldly. “You were hiding him anyway. The toys were just cluttering the packhouse.”

Cluttering. My son’s belongings were clutter.

Something inside me exploded. “Those were Liam’s!” I shouted. “You had no right!”

I wanted to scream that it was the last memory I had of him. That he died holding it. But the words wouldn’t come out.

Suddenly, Allison reached for the bear again. “Give it back,” she hissed quietly, her tears gone.

I tightened my grip. “No.”

That was when Alpha Archer lost his patience.

“For Goddess’ sake,” he muttered, stepping forward. He grabbed the teddy bear himself, trying to pull it away from both of us.

For a split second, the three of us were tugging at it.

Then I heard it. A ripping sound. The fabric tore down the middle. The stuffing spilled out like white snow. The bear snapped in half.

Everything went silent. I stared at the two pieces in Alpha Archer’s hands.

My heart felt exactly the same. Torn open. Empty.

Wallace cried louder. Allison gasped dramatically, and Alpha Archer looked annoyed.

But all I saw was my son’s name, now separated by a jagged tear. That was the last thing Liam ever held. And now even that was destroyed.

Freya

They released me after two weeks. It was supposed to be a month, but it seemed like Alpha Archer changed his mind. I knew he was behind my release.

The head therapist called it “remarkable progress.” I called it influence. Archer’s influence.

When I walked out of the rehabilitation center, the winter air felt strange against my skin. Like I had been buried underground and was only now resurfacing.

The Alpha was waiting beside his car. He looked tired. Not grieving. Just tired.

For a moment, we simply stared at each other. Two people who used to be loving mates. Two strangers connected by a bond that felt more like a chain now.

“I’ll drive,” he said.

I nodded and got into the passenger seat. The silence inside the car was heavy. I could feel him glancing at me every now and then, probably assessing if I looked “stable” enough.

After a few minutes, he cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry about the fight,” he said, eyes still on the road. “Things were… chaotic.”

Chaotic. That was the word he chose for our son’s death.

My fingers tightened around the torn half of the teddy bear I kept inside my coat pocket.

“We can bring Liam home now,” he continued. “If he’s in Crescent Pack.”

My head turned slowly toward him. “But Liam’s de—”

The car system beeped, and because of that I wasn’t able to finish what was I saying.

Incoming call: Allison.

He answered immediately. The call connected to the car speakers.

“Alpha, please!” Allison’s voice came through, shaking and frantic. “Wallace collapsed again! I’m really worried! What am I going to do?”

Alpha Archer’s entire posture changed.

“Calm down, Alli,” he said gently. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

He made a sharp turn without even asking me. We drove straight to the hospital. Of course we did.

When we arrived, Allison was already outside the emergency entrance, crying into her hands. The moment she saw us, she ran forward.

But she didn’t go to Alpha Archer first.

Instead, she went to me.

“Where is Liam?” she demanded, grabbing my arms. “Where the heck is he?”

I stared at her. I couldn’t understand why she was acting this way.

“What’s going on, Alli? Calm down,” Alpha Archer said, stepping between us. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed. After a few minutes, she lifted her head, eyes red.

“Wallace needs a bone marrow transplant,” she said, voice trembling. “His Alpha blood is very rare. The doctors said it’s hard to find a match.”

Archer stiffened. “I’ll get tested.”

And he did. We waited in a private room while doctors took his sample. Then Allison’s. Neither matched.

When the doctor came back shaking his head, Allison broke down again.

“We really need Liam!” she cried hysterically.

Her hands clutched Alpha Archer’s shirt.

“He’s his brother! They’re half siblings! He has to match!”

My ears rang. Half siblings.

I froze. “What did you just say?” I wished mg ears were joking with me, but no.

Allison’s breathing became uneven. “Years ago… the day before your wedding… we slept together.”

The words fell into the room like poison.

“That’s when Wallace was conceived,” she continued. No shame. No hesitation. “He’s your son as well, Alpha.”

The world tilted slightly. The day before our wedding. I remembered that day vividly. Alpha Archer had been distant, saying he had pack matters to settle. I had been nervous, excited, overwhelmed. While he had been in her bed.

Alpha Archer grabbed Allison’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier that Wallace is my son?”

He looked… worried. Not angry, betrayed, but worried..

“Because you were married!” she cried. “You had a son with Freya! How could I ruin that?”

Ruin that. My chest felt hollow.

Allison suddenly turned to me, eyes desperate. “Your son… they’re half siblings! For sure Liam’s bone marrow is compatible with Wallace! Bring your son here, Freya! Please!”

I looked at her. Really looked at her. At the woman who lied about the accident. Who watched me get dragged to rehab. Who took my son’s toys. Who slept with my mate before our wedding. Who caused so much misunderstanding to the point where Alpha Archer had to freeze my accounts, not being able to pay the hospital to operate on my son.

And I realized something terrifying. I didn’t feel sympathy. Maybe that made me a monster. Maybe grief had carved out the soft parts of me. But I had already buried my child in my heart.

“Liam’s dead,” I whispered.

The words were quiet. But both of them heard. Allison’s face twisted.

“Don’t fucking lie!” she screamed. “You just don’t want to donate! You want my son to die! Because he threatens Liam’s heir position to the Alpha throne, right? Because Wallace is older! Because my son is also Alpha Archer’s son!”

Archer’s expression hardened.

“Freya, stop this,” he said coldly. “I know you’re hiding Liam because you don’t want to help Wallace. That’s how selfish you are.”

Selfish. The word echoed in my head. I wished I was, if only I was.

“I watched my son flatline,” I said, my voice barely audible. “I begged you for money to save him.”

“Enough,” Archer snapped. “Enough of your fucking lies.”

---

When Wallace’s condition worsened again, Alpha Archer stopped arguing with me.

He stepped outside and began making calls.

I watched him through the glass wall of the corridor. Watched him contact other Alphas. Other packs. Territories far beyond Snowfield.

His voice was urgent. Powerful.

Within hours, he secured a compatible donor.

Hours. It had taken him only hours to do something he never even tried to do for Liam. For our son.

The irony was suffocating.

They rushed Wallace into surgery. Meanwhile, Allison clung to Alpha Archer the entire time.

I stood alone in the corridor. No one asked how I was. No one cared.

And I made another promise that night. He would never mourn Liam. Not while he refused to believe he was gone. I would never give him that closure.

I was staring blankly at the opposite wall of the hospital corridor when I heard soft footsteps.

“Freya.”

I turned slowly. Lyra. She looked hesitant. Worried.

“How are you?” she asked gently.

How was I? I had no answer.

She shifted uncomfortably, like she was carrying something heavy.

“There’s… something I need to tell you,” she said.

“Just say it,” I replied.

She closed her eyes briefly before handing me a folded document. “I wanted to give this to you earlier,” she said. “But before I could… Liam already…”

Her voice broke. “I couldn’t add more pain to you.”

My hands trembled as I opened the paper. It was my medical report. From the night of the accident.

I scanned the words. Head trauma. Rib fractures. Internal bleeding. And then I saw it.

Miscarriage. Eight weeks pregnant.

The letters blurred. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

I had been pregnant. I didn’t even know.

On the day of the accident, I lost not just Liam. But another child. Another life. Another piece of me.

Lyra’s voice sounded distant. “I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t cry. The tears wouldn’t come. It felt like I had passed the point of devastation and entered something colder. Quieter.

How fucked up was my life?

My mate betrayed me before our wedding. He believed his mistress over me. He let our son die. He locked me away. And I lost another child without even knowing they existed.

I folded the paper carefully. My hands were steady. Too steady. Without hesitation, I took out my phone.

Lyra looked confused. “Freya?”

I dialed a number I hadn’t called in years.

“My office,” a calm male voice answered.

“This is Freya Harlan,” I said evenly. “I need you to process my divorce.”

There was a pause. “From Alpha Archer?”

“Yes.”

“Are you certain?”

I looked through the glass wall at Alpha Archer holding Allison’s hand while they waited for news about Wallace. I thought of Liam. Of the tiny heartbeat I never got to hear.

“I’m divorcing Alpha Archer,” I repeated.

Freya

The next morning, I went back to the Snowfield packhouse.

The mansion looked the same as always—grand, cold, untouched by tragedy. The guards bowed when they saw me, but their eyes flickered to the black dress I was wearing and then to my tired face. No one dared to stop me.

I walked through the halls slowly, my heels echoing against marble floors that once felt like home. The servants avoided my gaze. Whispers followed me, but no one spoke loud enough for me to hear.

I went straight to our bedroom. No. His bedroom. I packed lightly. A suitcase. Some clothes. Important documents. Liam’s small shirt I folded felt like another blade twisting inside my ribs.

By the time I finished, it was already afternoon. That was when Archer walked in.

We stopped a few steps away from each other.

He looked at the things I was carrying briefly, then at me.

“You’re bringing Liam home now?” he asked.

I swallowed. I nodded.

I was bringing him home, just not in the way he imagined.

“Make sure you let him visit his brother,” Archer said casually, loosening his tie. “Wallace’s operation was successful.”

Brother. The word felt like acid in my ears. It amazed me how easily he could say it. How proud he sounded.

He had moved mountains overnight for Wallace. Contacted Alphas across territories. Used every connection he had. But when Liam was fighting for his life, he suspended my accounts. When I begged him for help, he blocked my number.

“I will,” I said quietly.

Because what else was there to say? He walked past me without another word. I stood there for a moment longer, feeling something dark settle deeper inside my chest.

My anger had already been burning. Now it felt endless.

---

The ride to Crescent Pack was long. Hours passed, but I barely noticed. The urn containing the ashes of Liam rested in my lap the entire time. I held it like I used to hold Liam when he fell asleep in the car, his head against my chest.

I wore black. For mourning.

When the gates of Crescent Pack opened, I felt something shift inside me. Memories rushed back—running through these fields as a child, laughing with my brother, training with the warriors. I had left all of this behind for Archer.

The guards froze when they saw me step out of the car. Their eyes dropped to the urn. Shock spread across their faces.

No one questioned me. No one tried to stop me. Word must have spread quickly, because by the time I reached the main house, my parents and my brother were already waiting at the entrance.

My mother’s hand flew to her mouth. My father looked like he had been struck. And my brother—Alpha Lucas now—stared at the urn as if it might disappear if he blinked.

“Freya…” my mother whispered.

I didn’t trust my voice, so I walked forward and placed the urn gently on the table in the center of the hall.

“This is Liam,” I said.

Silence fell. Then my mother broke down. My father’s fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Lucas stepped forward slowly. “What fuck happened?”

So I told them. Everything. The accident. Allison driving. Alpha Archer believing her. The hospital bills. The blocked calls. The rehabilitation center. Wallace. The bone marrow. The affair before my wedding. My miscarriage.

I told them all of it without crying. By the time I finished, the air inside the hall felt heavy with rage. Lucas slammed his fist against the table. “Snowfield will answer for this.”

My father’s wolf was near the surface; I could feel the Alpha pressure radiating from him. “We will call for a pack council. This is grounds for war.”

My mother wiped her tears, her eyes blazing. “He let his own son die.”

War. Revenge. Blood. For a moment, it was tempting. So tempting to let them fight for me.

To let Snowfield burn. But I was so tired.

“I’m exhausted,” I said softly.

They looked at me.

“I don’t want a pack war.”

Lucas frowned. “Freya—”

“I’m going to divorce him,” I continued. “And I’ll get back at them in my own way.”

My father studied me carefully. “What are you planning?”

I hesitated before speaking again. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly, looking at my parents. “For running away. I should have listened to you. I should have married the Northern Pack’s Alpha instead of that fucking Alpha.”

The memory made my chest tighten. Years ago, my parents had arranged a political marriage between me and the Alpha of Northern Pack. Everyone called him a monster. Cold. Ruthless. Dangerous.

I had been young. Scared. So I ran, and I even eloped with Alpha Archer. I chose what I thought was love.

“And now?” Lucas asked carefully.

I met his gaze. “If he’s still willing… I will marry him willingly this time.”

My mother inhaled sharply.

“Freya, are you sure?” Lucas asked.

I nodded slowly and looked out the window at the cloudy sky.

“I have a plan,” I said. “And if it means marrying the Northern Alpha, I’ll do it.”

For Liam. For the child I lost. For the woman I used to be.

“Please hold a funeral for Liam,” I added. “On the last day, I’ll come back. Fully divorced.”

My family exchanged looks. Then my father nodded.

“We will honor him properly,” he said.

And for the first time in weeks, I felt like my son would finally be seen.

---

I returned to Snowfield the next day. The packhouse felt even colder than before.

That afternoon, the mail arrived. Among the documents was the envelope I had been waiting for.

Divorce papers. Official. Stamped. Legal.

I stared at Alpha Archer’s name printed beside mine.

Freya Harlan. Not for long. I would be free from his surname soon. I folded the papers carefully and walked toward his office. The door was slightly open. He was inside, speaking on the phone.

“Yes, I’ll visit Wallace after this,” he said. “Make sure he takes his medication.”

Wallace. Always Wallace. He ended the call and looked up when I entered.

“What?” he said impatiently. “I’m busy. I’m going to finish fast to visit Wallace.”

I stood there quietly for a moment. I studied him. This man had once held my hand and promised me forever. Now he could barely spare me a glance.

“This is the paper needing your signature from the rehabilitation center,” I lied evenly. “Just sign it quickly. I’m going there now to pass it.”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Tsk. Give that to me.”

I walked forward and handed him the papers. He didn’t read them. Didn’t even skim through. He picked up his pen and signed at the bottom without hesitation.

No questions. No suspicion. No care. He slid the papers back toward me.

“There,” he said. “Anything else?”

I took the documents. Looked at his signature. Alpha Archer Harlan. My soon-to-be ex-husband.

“No,” I replied softly. “That’s all.”

I turned and walked out of his office, closing the door behind me. He didn’t even know he had just signed away our marriage. He was too busy being a father to his childhood sweetheart's child.