-Daughter’s Condition Has Worsened

Rue’s POV

The doctor’s words hit harder than any slap.

“Her condition has worsened.”

Soft-spoken and sympathetic a bit rehearsed. But it didn’t matter how gently he said it, it still felt like the floor was ripped out from under me.

I blinked at him, but my legs buckled before I could find my voice.

I caught the cold edge of the plastic armrest and sank into the chair, holding it like it could anchor me.

No. Not today. Not Iris.

She was only three. She hadn’t even blown out her birthday candle.

I fumbled for my phone, numb fingers trembling so badly I nearly dropped it twice before managing to dial Aiden’s number.

One ring.

Two.

Voicemail.

I tried again. And again.

Each unanswered call scraped at my nerves like claws. My heartbeat was thundering in my ears. The walls of the hospital felt too tight, too close. I was suffocating.

Fifth try. The line clicked.

Relief surged, but it vanished just as fast.

“Mommy! You said I could get the red panda and the pink one!”

The child’s voice, high-pitched and laughing, punched the breath out of me.

Then her voice followed. Haven.

Soft. Sweet. Too sweet.

“You can’t have both, baby.”

Aiden didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. His absence was loud enough. I didn’t hear concern. I didn’t hear panic. I didn’t hear him.

I heard laughter. Giggles. Joy. The warmth of another life.

A life he’d chosen.

I hung up.

My hand shook violently, and the phone slipped from my grip, clattering onto the hospital floor.

The sterile hallway spun. My breath caught in my throat as I stared ahead, unblinking. The lights overhead buzzed.

I pressed my hand over my mouth, trying to hold in the sob, but my chest was breaking apart from the inside out.

He wasn’t coming.

He had chosen them.

Even now, when Iris might not survive the night.

Then came the sound of fast, purposeful heels on tile. Sharp. Angry.

Veronica.

Aiden’s mother swept down the corridor like a storm, her expensive heels tapping a warning against the linoleum. Her eyes locked on me, furious.

Sora trailed behind her, sleek and smug as ever. Perfectly curled hair. Bold lipstick. Arms folded with that familiar sneer on her lips.

“There you are,” Veronica snapped, her voice echoing across the hallway. “What the hell did you do to my granddaughter?”

I rose unsteadily, stunned. “What?”

“Are you so incompetent,” she hissed, stepping closer, “that you couldn’t even keep your own child safe?”

Before I could speak, Sora surged forward. Her palm slapped across my cheek, loud and stinging.

“You irresponsible little mutt!” she spat.

I gasped at the shock of it, one hand flying to my face.

It wasn’t the pain that hurt most.

It was the shame. The fury. The cruelty.

“You never should’ve had her,” Sora continued, voice full of venom. “You’re just an omega clinging to Aiden like a leech. You think being his mate gave you value?”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, not from weakness, but from restraint. My wolf pushed against my skin, snarling. Ready to fight, to bite and defend.

But I held her back.

Barely.

“I raised her alone,” I said, voice low but steady. “While Aiden was out living his charmed life, I was the one wiping her tears, holding her through her fevers, comforting her when she cried for a father who never came.”

Sora scoffed. “Save the speech. If you’d spent more time focused on Aiden, maybe he wouldn’t have slipped away.”

I took a step forward, eyes locked on hers. “Aiden wouldn’t even be where he is without me. I stood behind him when no one else would.

I handled negotiations. Helped him clean up his political mistakes. Whispered strategy when others praised his strength.”

Veronica laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. “You really think you mattered? That you had influence? Aiden was always destined for greatness. You were just conveniently there.”

She kept going.

“And now? You’ve proven just how irrelevant you are. Haven is everything a Luna should be. She’s smart. Powerful. Proper lineage. With her, our pack has a real future.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.

“Compared to her, you’re nothing,” Veronica added with a cruel smile. “And Iris? She was weak from birth. She never stood a chance.”

My heart dropped.

What?

“Iris deserved to die,” she said coldly. “She was always sick. Always draining resources. Honestly, it should’ve happened sooner.”

The world slowed.

“You disgusting…” I stepped forward, fury boiling over, “…Don’t you dare speak about my daughter like that.”

“Oh please,” she said. “She was a jinx from the start.”

“You’re not worthy of judging her,” I growled, my voice trembling with rage. “You never lifted a finger to help her. Never even asked about her. And now you act like her life didn’t matter?”

My wolf was pacing, snarling. If they said one more thing, but then the air shifted.

Footsteps, firm, fast and heavy.

A scent I knew, it was Aiden.

Haven’s POV

The moment Aiden’s phone buzzed, I knew. His entire body went still.

I didn’t have to guess who it was.

“It’s Rue,” he muttered, voice tense. “Something’s wrong with Iris.”

His hand reached for his keys, already stepping toward the door.

“Wait,” I said quickly. “Aiden, don’t go yet. Just stay for a few minutes.”

But his mind was already at the hospital.

He didn’t even see me anymore.

I turned toward my daughter, quietly playing by the fire. My thoughts raced. Fear didn’t grip me. No, rage did.

I had fought so hard for Aiden. For this future. And that woman, that omega was still in the way.

I acted without thinking.

I let the vase beside me fall.

It shattered on the floor. Sharp, loud, perfect.

“Aiden!” I cried, clutching my arm and pulling my daughter to my chest. “She fell, she’s bleeding!”

He spun back, eyes wide.

He moved toward us, crouching beside her. But even as he checked for injuries, his gaze was distant.

“She’s fine,” he muttered. “I’ll call the medic to look at her. I have to go.”

Then he turned toward the door, again.

Just as he reached it, a wild blur of movement came out of nowhere.

A rogue wolf.

It lunged, claws raking across his shoulder, jaws snapping inches from his throat. Aiden roared, throwing the beast off with brute force.

Blood soaked through his shirt, but he didn’t stop.

For nearly thirty minutes, he fought it back, wounded but relentless. Even as his arm bled freely, even as he staggered, he kept moving toward the car.

“You can’t drive like this!” I pleaded, running to his side. “You need medical help, please, let me come with you.”

He hesitated, then nodded once.

So I followed him. Not because I cared about Iris. But because I needed to be there. I needed Rue to see me walk in beside him.

I needed Aiden to remember who he belonged to.

Because no matter how hard she fought, I would be Luna.

That title was mine by birth. And I’d take it backat any cost.

When we reached the hospital, it was chaos. The scent of blood. The noise. The tension. Nurses rushing back and forth.

Just in time, Aiden walked in right as Veronica raised her hand again.

He stepped between them.

“Enough,” he growled, catching her wrist mid-air.

Everyone froze.

But his eyes, furious, blazing weren’t on Veronica.

They were on Rue.

-He Chose Her

Rue’s POV

Aiden’s hand snapped forward just in time, catching his mother’s wrist mid-air before it could reach me.

“Enough, Mother,” he said, his voice firm, sharp, commanding.

For a very brief moment, I thought maybe something inside him had shifted. That maybe, just maybe, there was still a part of him that remembered who I was to him, who Iris was.

But before I could cling to that thought, Haven stepped into the space between us. Smooth as silk. Her delicate fingers slid through Aiden’s arm, her body pressing lightly into his side like she belonged there.

“Aiden, don’t get so worked up,” she said softly, her tone sweet and intimate. “It’s not worth it.”

Like I wasn’t worth it, like the daughter we had wasn’t.

My fingers curled into fists, my nails biting into my palms so deeply it hurt. But that pain was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. Iris had been burning with fever. She had called for her father again and again.

And he hadn’t come.

And now, he stood here like this. Letting her cling to him. Letting her replace me, even now.

I took a slow, shaking breath.

“So,” I said quietly, bitterness laced in every word, “you decide to show up now?”

He looked at me. Guilt flickered in his eyes, but it was weak. “She was sick, Aiden,” I said, louder now. “On her birthday.”

“I know,” he said, his voice low. “Rue, it’s not what you think, Haven asked me to accompany her, I didn’t…”

I scoffed, sharp and tired. “You’d rather accompany her than visit your dying daughter?”

He didn’t respond. This silence was louder than any denial, it was the confirmation I never wanted, the final cruel truth I had always suspected.

I turned away before the tears could fall. Before he could see how much it shattered me again. My heels clicked hollowly as I walked away from him, away from them, toward the quiet of the first-floor lounge.

I didn’t know where I was going, I just knew I needed space to a place that didn’t taste like betrayal.

The corridor stretched endlessly as I walked, and every step felt heavier than the last. My body moved, but my mind was stuck in that moment, Aiden and Haven, arm in arm, like a portrait of what he really wanted all along.

The doors closed behind me, sealing in the memory like a coffin lid. I collapsed to my knees beside Iris’s hospital bed, empty now, her tiny body moved to the operating room.

Her stuffed bunny was still there. The one she’d dragged everywhere since she could walk.

I reached for it like it was a lifeline, clutching it to my chest. I pressed my face into its fur and breathed in the faint scent of her strawberry shampoo. I could still hear her giggle, still picture her curled up under her blanket, asking me to sing her favorite lullaby again.

And now she might never hear it again.

I screamed into the silence, my anguish echoing off the sterile white walls. Then the scream dissolved into sobs.

I cried harder than I had in years, I cried like the child I used to be, the one who had never felt safe. I cried like a mother whose soul was splitting in half, my little girl, my last piece of light, was slipping away, and I had nothing left, just the hollow ache of failure.

A sharp knock at the door pulled me upright. I wiped my face quickly as the doctor stepped in. His scrubs were stained, his eyes exhausted. He pulled off his mask and cap, and the expression on his face said everything before he spoke.

“Iris’s vitals are dropping fast,” he said gently. “We’re doing everything we can, but…”

He didn’t need to finish.

“She’s slipping,” he continued. “If you want to try other hospitals, I can refer you to…”

“No,” I interrupted.

I couldn’t hear it again. I couldn’t hear that she might not make it.

Not from him. Not from anyone.

He nodded solemnly and left me alone again, the weight of his words hanging in the air like smoke.

I paced the room for what felt like hours. Calling witches, healers, rogue shamans, anyone who might know what to do. Anything that could give me a sliver of hope.

But none of them had answers.

No one had even heard of a venom case like Iris’s. The poison was rare, ancient cursed, one whispered.

I was nearly broken when I remembered what the doctor had said once in passing. About a witch who was powerful, silent and hidden.

And she only served one Pack.

My father’s Pack.

Blood Claw.

The Pack I abandoned. The one I had turned my back on to escape an arranged mating, I stared down at my phone. Then, with shaking fingers, I dialed the number I hadn’t called in years.

It rang for a while and then “Hello?” came the voice. It was rough, cold, and commanding.

Alpha Cyrus, my father.

“It’s me,” I said, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s Rue.”

A long silence.

Then, “Rue.”

It was all he said, but there was a weight to it. A reckoning.

“I need help,” I said. “My daughter, Iris, she’s dying. There’s a witch in your pack that can help her. I know it, please let her help.”

Another silence. “You have a daughter?” he asked.

I swallowed. “Dad, please.”

I had cut him off years ago. I left without a word. I erased him from my life. I had no right to ask him for anything.

But I was asking.

“No witch will help you unless I allow it,” he said at last. “You want her help?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll come back,” he said. “And fulfill the promise you ran from. You will marry the man I chose. You’ll honor the alliance you broke.”

His voice was emotionless. Just business.

My chest tightened.

I had known this would be the price and yet, the decision wasn’t hard. “I’ll do it,” I whispered. “I’ll come home.”

He hung up without a word.

I stared at the screen for a second before shoving the phone into my pocket, grabbing my coat and car keys with trembling hands.

I stepped into the hallway and pressed the elevator button.

The doors slid open, and there she was.

Haven.

“Well, well,” she said, her voice syrupy. “In a hurry?”

I stared at her, too drained to play games.

She took a step forward. “You know, I’m going to take him back. I always do. Aiden was mine first and he always comes home.”

Her smile sharpened.

“I’ll be Luna soon,” she added, “and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

I didn’t flinch. I just looked at her, steady.

“Good for you,” I said. “You can keep him.”

Haven blinked, clearly not expecting that.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but then it happened.

The explosion.

A deafening boom tore through the corridor. The walls shook. The lights above us burst in a shower of sparks. A wave of heat and force slammed into me, throwing me against the wall.

Dust filled the air. The building screamed around us. Alarms blared.

My ears rang, disoriented and raw.

Through the haze, I saw Aiden. He ran straight to Haven.

He pulled her into his arms, shielding her with his body as debris rained down. He didn’t even glance my way.

Not once, the sting in my chest outmatched the blast, not even instinct made him run to me, he chose her, again.

In that moment, through the smoke and chaos, I saw the truth, there was nothing left between us, and when this chaos ends, so would our bond, I would divorce him.

-Sign the Papers

Aiden’s POV

I had just finished checking on Iris when I heard the nurse shouting, something about an explosion in the first-floor restroom. Panic surged in my chest. I knew Haven had headed in that direction earlier.

Without thinking, I took off down the hallway, boots thudding against the tile as smoke curled around the edges of the corridor. The air was thick with the scent of burning plastic and the high-pitched whine of alarms.

I forced my way through the smoke, ignoring calls to stop, shoving aside debris until I found her. Haven was dazed but conscious, crouched near the shattered sink, blood running in a thin line down her cheek. I pulled her into my arms, carried her out myself, refused help even as staff ran forward.

It was only after she was safe that I heard, Rue had been in there too.

The breath left my lungs. I rushed back in, the haze of dust and smoke blurring my vision until I saw her, half-covered in rubble, blood streaking her temple, her chest rising and falling far too weakly.

Her breathing was faint, but it was there. I carried her out too, this time with a knot in my stomach that refused to unravel.

Later, when she opened her eyes, I tried to explain. I wanted to tell her everything, that I’d been attacked by a rogue wolf that morning, that I hadn’t meant to be late, that none of it was intentional but when I reached for her hand, she pushed it away.

Her wounds were minor, the doctor said. But whatever bond we still had? It was splintering, cracking beneath everything we hadn’t said, and everything she had seen.

Rue’s POV

In the fog of medication and pain, voices drifted in and out, soft at first, then clearer, nurses whispering too close to my door, thinking I couldn’t hear.

“…Mr. Aiden hasn’t left Miss Haven’s side all night.”

“He carried her out himself, and wouldn't let anyone touch her.”

“She only had a scratch, but the way he looked like he thought he was losing her. That must be love.”

Their words sliced through the fog in my head. I turned my face toward the pillow, jaw clenched. My fingers curled against the sheets, weak but shaking.

Of course he’d stayed with her. Even when I was the one who had bled. Even when I was the one nearly buried under concrete. He hadn’t looked for me at first. He hadn’t reached for me.

I should’ve expected it by now. Should’ve stopped hoping for anything different. But I hadn’t. Some part of me still thought I mattered.

Not anymore.

By the time I opened my eyes fully, harsh light stabbed into my skull. The sterile scent of antiseptic flooded my senses, and a dull ache throbbed where the shrapnel had passed cleanly through. Lucky, the doctor had said. No vitals hit. Still, pain bloomed beneath the surface.

Iris.

I bolted upright, teeth gritted against the pain. The memory came rushing back, the explosion, the chaos, the smoke. My little girl, fighting to breathe, barely hanging on.

“Easy,” a voice said, deep and steady. “You’ll tear your stitches.”

Aiden stood at the foot of the bed, arms folded. He was calm and controlled as if nothing about this moment truly affected him. There was maybe a trace of regret in his eyes, but mostly, they were blank.

I remembered everything.

The blast. His body shielding Haven. The way his eyes had searched for only her, not once glancing in my direction.

“Iris,” I croaked. “Where is she?”

“They stabilized her,” he said after a pause. “But it’s temporary. She’s still critical.”

Relief hit me like a wave. Temporary was still something.

I ripped the IV out of my arm, ignoring the sting and the thin line of blood that followed. I needed to move. I needed to find a solution, not sit here waiting for another disaster to hit.

“Where’s my bag?” I asked, already climbing off the bed.

Aiden stepped forward quickly, grabbing my wrist. “Rue. Stop. You’re going to rip everything open.”

I yanked my arm back. “Now you’re worried?”

His jaw tightened. “I’m always worried.”

“No, Aiden,” I said, eyes locking onto his. “You were worried when Haven had a scratch. Not when your daughter was on the operating table. Not when I was nearly killed.”

“You don’t understand…”

“I understand everything.” I didn’t wait for more. I couldn’t. I left the room, my stitches tugging with every step, pain blooming beneath my ribs like fire. I didn’t care.

The hospital lobby buzzed with tension. Officers milled around, interviewing nurses, analyzing the damage. Tape cordoned off sections of the floor, glass and tile still littering corners of the hall.

Veronica and Sora sat like carved statues near the center of it all, high and mighty, their perfect outfits and disdainful eyes screaming that they still believed they were better than me. Their gazes found me immediately, lips curling, but I didn’t stop. I walked past them like they didn’t exist.

Aiden sat a few feet away, scrolling through his phone, oblivious. Until I slammed a stack of papers onto the table in front of him. The sharp smack echoed like a gunshot.

“Sign it.”

The silence was immediate and thick. Sora nearly choked on her drink. Veronica’s eyes widened, then narrowed. Aiden blinked, startled, as he stared at the papers.

His voice was slow, unsure. “What is this?”

“Divorce,” I said, my voice sharper than any knife. “I’ve signed already. You just need to do the same.”

Sora leaned into Veronica, whispering behind her hand. I caught enough, she’s bluffing, it’s a trap.

Aiden flipped through the pages, one brow twitching as he skimmed the clauses. His fingers tightened around the paper.

“And you’ve already signed it,” he muttered.

“She probably thinks it’ll get your attention,” Sora said with a scoff. “She’ll beg you to take her back by tonight.”

Veronica’s lips pulled into a cruel smile. “Check the wording carefully. She’s probably angling for pity.”

Their voices rolled off me like rain. I didn’t care what they thought anymore.

Aiden’s eyes returned to mine. “Why now?”

I met his gaze without flinching. “Because I’ve finally stopped lying to myself. Because I can’t keep pretending there’s anything left between us. And because my daughter deserves a mother who’s not constantly breaking just to survive her father’s indifference.”

He stared for a long second. Then, finally, he signed.

The pen scratched across the paper, slow and final.

“There,” he said, pushing it toward me. “Done. You’ll get the court copy next week.”

“I’ll send it to my lawyer,” I replied, folding my copy and tucking it into my coat pocket. The edges pressed sharp against my chest, like a blade I no longer feared.

As I turned to walk away, Veronica called out behind me, “You’ll regret this. You’ll come crawling back when you realize you have nothing.”

But she was wrong, I wasn’t losing anything, I proceeded to the receptionist to retrieve my bag and belongings.