Eight months later

The maternity ward buzzed with warmth and celebration. Families crowded around the other beds, laughing softly while admiring the newborns in their mothers' arms. Some were already talking about the babies' futures as if those tiny lives had always belonged in the world.

I watched everything quietly from my corner of the room.

No one stood beside my bed.

Nobody came to see my child. Nobody asked whether I was alright after the delivery. The little boy sleeping against my chest meant nothing to anyone except me.

In the end, it was only the two of us against everyone else.

The realization hurt more than I wanted to admit, but I kept forcing myself to stay strong. I had no other choice now.

I lowered my eyes to my son and gently adjusted the blanket wrapped around him. How could anyone look at something so small and innocent and call him a mistake?

How could parents throw away their own daughter simply because she carried a child?

The delivery itself had nearly broken me.

More than thirty-four hours of agony had torn through my body without stopping. Every contraction felt endless. Nobody comforted me. Nobody held my hand through the pain. The midwives barely hid their annoyance whenever I cried out for help. More than once, they coldly told me to stay quiet.

I had never felt so humiliated in my entire life.

Across from me, another woman lay surrounded by love. Her mate held her hand the entire time while whispering comforting words into her ear. Even after hours of labor, he never left her side.

Watching them hurt worse than the contractions themselves.

Being a werewolf had never been easy, especially while carrying the burden of the Alpha's bloodline on my shoulders. Ever since childhood, my life had revolved around responsibility. Strength, leadership, discipline, loyalty to the pack. Those expectations followed me everywhere.

But the pregnancy had destroyed all of it.

One single night had erased my future. They took away my position, my title, and the life I had spent years preparing for. Everything changed after that night. It felt as though my entire existence had been cut into two separate parts. The person I used to be no longer existed.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulled me out of my thoughts.

A nurse walked into the room and grabbed the chart hanging at the foot of my bed. She read through it silently before lifting her eyes toward me over the edge of her glasses. Her expression stayed cold and professional, but the judgment behind it was impossible to miss. Every person in this place looked at me the same way. A young woman with a child and no official mate beside her. The fathers of the other babies stood proudly near the beds, smiling down at their children and supporting their partners.

Meanwhile, the father of my son was nowhere to be found.

"Do you seriously not know who the father is?" she asked while clicking her tongue disapprovingly.

My fingers tightened slightly around the blanket wrapped around my baby. I knew exactly who the father was.

Better than anyone.

But if Valentin ever learned the truth, he would come after me. I'd already seen his anger once when I told him about the pregnancy.

And the cruelest part of all? He didn't even remember me.

An Alpha from an enemy pack.

Keeping my mouth shut and pretending I didn't know who he was remained the safest option. I'd already humiliated my family enough. If Dad ever discovered I had slept with an Alpha carrying rival blood, he wouldn't forgive me for it.

The nurse tossed her red hair over her shoulder before glancing down at my baby again.

"Your son's adorable," she admitted casually. Then her expression twisted with mockery. "Too bad his mother makes terrible decisions," she sneered, and the tips of her fangs showed as she spoke.

I slowly turned my face away from her.

"Can I at least get some paracetamol?" I asked quietly, acting as though her insult hadn't affected me.

Since arriving at the hospital, people hadn't stopped throwing comments like that at me. Every look and every whisper carried judgment. Meanwhile, the pounding in my head kept getting worse.

"No. It isn't written on your chart."

"It's only a painkiller," I murmured tiredly. "I'm not asking for anything serious..."

"The chart is what matters," she interrupted sharply while setting it beside me. "You'll deal with the pain without it."

I lowered my eyes to my baby again and stayed silent. Most she-wolves recovered quickly after childbirth because their healing abilities activated almost immediately. But I had never completed my first transformation. Without my wolf fully awakened, my body healed painfully slowly compared to theirs.

"Could I at least get something to eat?"

My stomach cramped painfully from hunger. Breastfeeding drained what little strength I still had left.

The nurse barely looked at me. "You were admitted after dinner hours. Breakfast starts at seven."

My eyes shifted toward the clock on the wall. Only eight in the evening. An entire night still stood between me and the next meal.

I gave a small nod and stopped asking. There was no point wasting my breath. Nobody in this place cared enough to help me anyway.

Lately, the same thought kept returning to me over and over again. Sometimes, I wanted to take my son and disappear somewhere far from Mountainview City. Somewhere nobody knew my name or my shame. Somewhere we could begin again without the pack watching us like we were filth.

The nurse started walking away but paused beside the curtain before leaving.

"Have you ever thought about the woman officially tied to him?" she asked coldly. "Imagine discovering your mate got another woman pregnant behind your back."

Pain tightened inside my chest. I had thought about that every single day since discovering the pregnancy.

But Valentin had made choices too. This wasn't something I had done alone.

I pressed my lips together hard to stop myself from crying again. Then I lowered my gaze toward the baby resting quietly in my arms.

His eyes stared back at me. Amber. There was no doubt where they came from.

Mine had always been a pale shade between blue and gray.

After feeding my son, I carefully settled him against my chest until he finally drifted back to sleep. His tiny breathing slowly calmed, and for a moment, I simply held him there while exhaustion weighed down every part of my body. Then I noticed the head nurse walking past my room.

I quickly raised my hand to stop her.

Unlike the others, she looked young. Her long, smooth hair fell neatly over her shoulders, and she couldn't have been much older than me. For one foolish second, I hoped she might show at least a little kindness.

She walked over and picked up my chart.

"Could I please have some water? Or maybe tea?" I asked quietly.

The warmth vanished from her face almost instantly.

Her eyes turned cold as she pressed the call button beside my bed.

My son shifted restlessly inside the crib beside me, and I instinctively leaned over to lift him into my arms again. The movement sent a sharp cramp through my abdomen, stealing the air from my lungs.

A second nurse hurried into the room. The head nurse didn't even lower her voice.

"Why is she still here?" she asked sharply, as though I wasn't supposed to exist in that room at all.

The other nurse looked uncomfortable. "Move her to the ward for single mothers," the head nurse ordered. "She shouldn't be staying here."

My entire body went still.

On the other side of the curtain, I heard another patient whisper softly to her mate.

"I knew there had to be something wrong. Nobody ever came to visit her. Now it makes sense."

The words followed me like poison. Every woman in that ward had someone standing beside her. Mates, parents, friends. They were surrounded by love and attention while I sat alone like something people preferred not to look at.

A nurse unlocked the wheels beneath my bed and pushed me out of the room.

I tightened my grip around the rail while they rolled me through the long hospital corridors. The entire thing felt less like being transferred and more like being cast out.

Eventually, the nurse stopped in front of another curtained area. Without saying a single word, she turned and started walking away.

"Wait..." My throat felt painfully dry. "Could I at least have some water?"

She didn't even acknowledge me.

"Don't bother asking," a female voice said nearby. "None of them care."

The curtain slowly pulled back.

Two young women stood on the other side watching me.

One of them was blonde with striking green eyes and looked a few years older than me. The second girl looked much younger, almost still a teenager. Her black hair barely reached her jaw.

The blonde offered me a small smile. "I'm Mary," she said gently.

"Emely," I answered quietly.

Mary gave a small nod before gesturing toward the younger girl beside her. "And that's Zhoé," she said. Then her smile faded into something more bitter. "Welcome to the ward for outcasts."

The words landed heavily inside my chest. Mary leaned against the side of the bed and lowered her voice slightly. "Trust me, the only people you can rely on here are us. If you can leave this place quickly, do it."

A frown pulled at my face. "But taking care of us is literally their job..."

Mary let out a dry laugh without humor. "I've been stuck here for two days already. My baby's having complications, and they barely check on him. As for the food..." She rolled her eyes. "You can forget about that."

She reached into her bag and pulled out a cereal bar before placing it into my hand.

"You look exhausted. You should eat something."

"Is this your first baby?" I asked while holding my son carefully against my chest.

Mary nodded.

"My mother raised me by herself too," she admitted softly. "Looks like the curse runs in the family."

I stayed quiet for a moment while finishing the cereal bar, grateful for the kindness.

Then I looked toward the younger girl. "Did you have a boy or a girl?" I asked Zhoé.

"A girl," Zhoé answered softly. "What about you?"

"A boy."

"Thank you," I said to Mary.

"Eat as much as you want. I packed enough food for days." Then she studied me more carefully. "What pack are you from? Your aura's intense."

I hesitated before answering, "Alpha blood."

Mary's eyes widened slightly. Then she slowly nodded in understanding.

"Yeah... I understand why you don't want to say anything else," she murmured. "Everyone in this room has their own story. We're basically the pack's unwanted rebels."

"Do you have anywhere to stay after you leave here?" I asked. "Maybe a shelter or refuge?"

"I do," Zhoé answered first. "But the place is already overcrowded."

Mary shrugged lightly. "I'm staying with my mother and little brother."

Then Zhoé looked directly at me. "And you?"

A heavy silence settled in my chest. I slowly shook my head.

"I'll manage somehow." I forced the words out calmly even though they barely felt true.

For the last eight months, I'd been surviving inside an old car I bought for five hundred dollars. It barely ran properly, and most nights were miserable. But I couldn't bring myself to admit that out loud. Not to them.

Life had already crushed us enough. The pack treated women like us as though we no longer belonged among them. People looked at us with disgust the second they learned we had children without official mates. But despite all that cruelty, Mary and Zhoé became the only people who showed me any kindness after I was moved into that ward.

The next morning, Mary shared her food with me again without hesitation.

And they had been telling the truth. Nobody else came.

No meals arrived unless we begged repeatedly for them. Most of the nurses ignored us completely. They barely checked on our babies, and they certainly didn't care about us mothers.

It was like we had become invisible the moment we gave birth.

Two weeks went by.

A hard knock against the car window startled me awake. I looked up and saw a man pointing a flashlight through the glass, checking the front seats before moving the beam toward the back of the car. The light landed right on my face, so I lifted a hand to block it. He immediately angled the flashlight away.

"Ma'am, you can't keep staying here," he said with clear exhaustion in his voice. His uniform showed he worked as local security.

Vennen shifted from the sudden light and began crying in irritation. The man quickly lowered the flashlight toward the pavement, and my son slowly settled down again.

"I've noticed this car parked here almost every day for close to two weeks," he continued. "This is a train station parking lot."

I carefully picked Vennen up from the small crib I had put together out of an old fruit crate. Then I lowered the window just enough for him to hear me clearly.

"Do you seriously not have anywhere else to stay? No relatives? No family?"

"No..." I rubbed my tired face before glancing across the nearly empty parking lot. "The city council already forced me out of the park."

"And the baby's father?" he asked.

I slowly shook my head.

From the very beginning, he wanted nothing to do with me. Every time I called and tried to tell him about the pregnancy, he'd end the call the second he recognized my voice. I even tried showing him the ultrasound once, but he still refused to listen. After a while, I gave up trying to reach him.

"There's people out there who'd give him a proper home," he told me. "You'd still have a chance to fix your life."

"I'm not throwing my child away the same way my parents threw me away," I replied immediately. Even hearing those words hurt more than I expected.

He let out a heavy sigh. "This isn't a life for a baby. You're still young. If another family takes him in, you could start over and get back on your feet. Think carefully about it. I'll let you stay one more week, but after that, you can't remain here anymore."

I quietly nodded before rolling the window back up.

I watched him disappear across the parking lot. After that, I picked Vennen up and held him close for a moment before laying him back inside the fruit crate beside me. Every night, the same fear stayed with me. I was terrified I'd fall asleep and accidentally crush him inside the cramped car.

I pulled the blanket over both of us and shifted around, trying to find a position that didn't hurt.

A tear slid down my face while his words kept repeating in my head. This wasn't a way for a child to live.

Was he right?

But the thought of giving Vennen away felt unbearable. He was the only person I still had.

By the next morning, rain hammered against the car windows. I let out a groan before climbing out of my seat and searching through the trunk for my umbrella. After making sure Vennen was warm and fully covered, I grabbed my bucket and pushed open the hatch. The sun still hadn't risen yet.

Holding my son close against my chest, I hurried toward the train station restroom while trying not to slip on the rain-soaked pavement. Inside the accessible stall, I balanced the bucket beneath the sink and filled it with warm water while keeping Vennen in my arms the entire time.

That part exhausted me the most. I never had anywhere safe to put him down.

After finishing, I pulled my pants back up with one hand, cleaned myself as quickly as possible, and shut off the faucet.

Walking back to the car felt like a struggle every single time. I had to carry Vennen, hold the umbrella steady, and keep the bucket from spilling over. Somehow, I still managed to make it back.

I placed the bucket down, opened the hatch again, and carefully laid Vennen inside the car. I changed his diaper, cleaned him with a damp washcloth, and dressed him in fresh clothes. Once I finished, my little boy was finally ready for the day.

I used the remaining water to wipe myself down as best as I could.

More than anything, I missed taking a real shower.

There were rest stops where I could've cleaned up properly, but getting there would've wasted gas. Right now, every single coin mattered too much for that.

When my parents threw me out, I still had some money saved and a job at a small restaurant downtown. But after Vennen came into the world, everything slowly collapsed around me. My savings disappeared on formula, bottled water, diapers, and baby clothes. The car was overflowing with necessities, almost like a tiny moving pantry, yet I was still running out of everything.

Inside my wallet, I only had a hundred dollars left.

I needed to find a solution soon, because I was running out of time.

I leaned against the car door and stared at the rain pouring across the parking lot. The restaurant no longer wanted me working there. My parents wanted nothing to do with me. And when I tried reaching out to Vennen's father, I was warned to stay away from his territory completely.

I still remembered the one time I managed to speak to him on the phone. He laughed at me. He said there was no chance he'd ever willingly touch someone my age. But things hadn't gone the way either of us expected, and now I was raising his child alone.

That night at the hotel club never should've happened.

My sister and I only wanted to see the older Alphas up close. We used fake IDs to sneak inside the private club while the meeting was taking place. Alpha Valentin had already been drunk, and honestly, so had I. He didn't recognize me that night. Then one reckless mistake changed everything.

Something happened between us that I never planned for, and no matter how much time passed, I knew I'd never forget it.

I forced those memories out of my head and took a bite from a granola bar. My stomach twisted in protest immediately. I missed real food so much. I missed the warm meals my mother used to cook before everything in my life fell apart.

A tear slipped down my cheek while I looked at my phone.

The service had already been cut off, but I still kept the old photos saved inside it. Back then, I still had a family. More than anyone else, I missed my little sister.

The rest of the day blurred together while I desperately tried thinking of ways to earn money. The security guard's warning stayed stuck in my head the entire time. I felt completely lost and had nobody I could ask for help.

By the time the five o'clock train arrived, darkness had already started creeping across the station.

I reached for my candle and tried lighting it, but the lighter had no fuel left.

With my umbrella above my head, I stepped out into the rain and searched for someone willing to help me.

"Excuse me, do you happen to have a..."

Nobody stopped long enough to listen. People kept walking past me as if I wasn't even there.

Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a young man wearing a suit.

I recognized him immediately. I saw him almost every day. He always boarded the first train in the morning, and he always returned on the five o'clock train in the evening.

He was tall, with blond hair, green eyes, and the kind of confidence that naturally drew attention.

The moment I walked toward him, his expression turned cautious. Then I felt it instantly. His aura.

I recognized him right away. He was one of the Betas who attended the Alpha gathering. Valentin's Beta.

I acted like I hadn't noticed.

After spending so long away from the pack, my own aura had faded to almost nothing. I had never even completed my shift before. Part of me still missed that world badly... but my son came first now.

"Can I borrow a lighter?" I asked before he could brush me off or walk away.

For a second, he looked unsure. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small green lighter, and handed it to me.

I hurried back to the car and lit the candle resting on a small saucer beside my seat.

When I turned around again, my chest tightened.

He had followed me.

I nearly jumped from the surprise.

"Thanks," I said quickly while handing the lighter back to him.

He gave a small nod and started to walk away, but Vennen suddenly began crying from inside the car.

"It's okay, I'm here," I whispered while reaching for the hatch.

Then he stopped.

I turned around and found the Beta standing there, holding the hatch open for me.

"There's a baby inside?" he asked.

The moment those words left his mouth, panic crashed into me.

Was he going to report me? Was he about to call social services?

Vennen's cries grew louder, and without thinking, I pulled him tightly against my chest. The man kept staring at me with an unreadable look before taking a slow breath, almost like he was trying to recognize a scent drifting through the rain.

I held Vennen even closer.

"This won't last forever... please don't contact social services," I whispered desperately.

He slightly tilted his head. He didn't look suspicious. Instead, he looked like he was trying to piece something together in his mind.

"Does the car still work?" he asked while glancing around the parking lot. Then he lightly nudged one of the tires with the tip of his shoe.

"I ran out of gas. I'll leave tomorrow, I promise," I answered, my throat tightening painfully.

For a moment, I wondered if he worked for the city council somehow, but nothing about him matched that idea. The suit he wore looked far too expensive.

His gaze settled on me again. Then he quietly muttered, almost under his breath, "Your scent feels strangely familiar..."