Aurelia

“Mrs. Montgomery?”

The doctor’s voice sounded distant, muffled, as if I were underwater. I curled forward instinctively, one hand pressed to my lower abdomen while hot tears blurred my vision. I had wanted a child for so long—longer than I ever admitted out loud. Two years ago, Caleb and I had tried earnestly, tracking moons and timing nights, hoping the Moon Goddess would bless us. Nothing came of it.

Then Bianca entered our lives, and everything changed.

Caleb barely touched me after that. When he did, it was rare and hollow—usually when he came home drunk, his scent unfamiliar, his wolf restless and impatient. Still, I clung to hope. I told myself that if I could just give him a child, a true heir of our bond, it might pull us back together. That it might save what was left of our family.

But Caleb hadn’t cared.

He had signed the order that ended my child’s life without hesitation.

The realization burned through me, hot and violent. Rage surged so fast it scared me. I refused to let myself fully feel the grief—not yet. I knew if I let it in, even for a second, it would destroy me completely. I was already too broken to fall apart again.

“Mrs. Montgomery?” the doctor called once more, louder this time.

I lifted my head slowly, my vision sharp with fury.

“That bastard,” I spat.

Without another word, I ripped the IV from my hand and swung my legs off the bed.

“Mrs. Montgomery, you’ve lost a dangerous amount of blood,” the doctor said urgently, hurrying after me. “Please, you need to lie back down—”

“Where is he?” I demanded, my voice shaking with restrained violence. “Where is Caleb—and his bitch?”

“Mrs. Montgomery, please—”

The look I shot him made him fall silent. After a moment, he hesitantly pointed toward the next room.

I didn’t hesitate.

I shoved the door open and walked in to see Caleb seated beside Bianca’s bed, his hand clasped tightly around hers, his head bowed toward her like she was something precious, something fragile.

The sight snapped the last thread holding me together.

“You damn monster!” I screamed.

Before he could even stand, my hand connected with his face in a sharp, echoing slap. The sound cracked through the room. Caleb froze, shock written all over his face as he stared at me.

“That,” I shouted, my entire body shaking, “is for murdering my child!”

“Caleb… what’s happening?” Bianca’s weak voice drifted from the bed.

Hearing her speak nearly sent me into a frenzy.

“You filthy whore!” I yelled, lunging toward her. “This is all because of you!”

I didn’t reach her.

Caleb stepped in front of her instantly, shoving me back with force. I lost my footing and crashed to the floor. Pain ripped through my stomach, sharp and searing. Warmth spread down my legs as blood stained the white tiles beneath me.

“I hate you!” I screamed, sobbing openly now, my wolf howling in agony inside me.

Caleb didn’t flinch.

“Go back to your room, Aurelia,” he said flatly. “Clean yourself up.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “How can you stand there,” I cried, “after killing our baby? Our child, Caleb!”

“You were the only viable donor,” he replied coldly. “Was I supposed to let Bianca die?”

“So you chose her,” I snapped, my voice breaking. “You chose her life over our child’s.”

“Watch your mouth,” he barked. “And the baby wasn’t meant to be harmed. If you lost it, maybe it just means you weren’t meant to be a mother.”

The words hit harder than any slap.

I recoiled as if struck, staring at him in stunned silence.

“Caleb, please,” Bianca said softly, her voice trembling. “Aurelia is hurting… this is my fault.”

I didn’t listen anymore.

I pushed myself off the floor and walked out, my steps unsteady, my mind numb. His words echoed in my head over and over, cutting deeper each time.

“You’ll regret this,” I said without turning back.

I returned to my ward. When the nurse cleaned the blood from my legs and changed the sheets, I didn’t react. I just stared at nothing, my heart empty.

Two days later, I was discharged.

When I returned to the house, relief washed over me at the realization that Caleb hadn’t come back. I finished packing in silence. Among the mail waiting on the table was a thick envelope. I opened it slowly.

Divorce papers.

I nodded to myself, strangely calm.

There was no turning back now. I signed my name without hesitation and laid the document neatly on the bed.

Caleb had proven—again and again—that Bianca mattered more than I ever did. There was no coming back from this. Not after what he’d done to me. Not after what he’d taken.

A sob tore from my throat before I could stop it.

I grabbed my suitcase and walked out. My Uber was already waiting.

At the airport, I checked in and sat quietly at the gate. When my phone rang, my chest tightened. Caleb’s name flashed on the screen.

After a moment, I answered.

“What is this bullshit on the bed, Aurelia?” he demanded. “And where the hell are you?”

I laughed bitterly. “Sign the divorce papers, Caleb. We’re finished.”

There was a brief silence.

“You don’t mean that,” he said sharply. “You have nowhere to go. No money. I’ve taken care of you all these years. Come home right now and stop acting insane.”

“Never call me again,” I replied calmly. “If you do, you’ll regret ever meeting me.”

“Aurelia—”

I ended the call, pulled out my SIM card, and tossed it into the trash.

Just then, boarding was announced.

I stood, heart heavy but resolute, and stepped onto the plane.

It had been five years since I’d walked away from my pack, my family, my true name. Now, I was finally going back.

And this time, I would do exactly what my parents had wanted all along.

Caleb and Bianca would pay.

For my child.

Aurelia

The plane touched down with a muted jolt against the runway, the vibration shuddering through the cabin floor and traveling straight up into my bones. The impact was gentle, routine even, but it sent my heart racing all the same. I closed my eyes as the wheels slowed, my fingers tightening instinctively against the armrest, and let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding since the descent began.

Five years.

The number echoed in my mind, heavy and unforgiving. Five long, painful years had passed since I last set foot on this land, since I had walked away from everything that had once defined me. In those five years, entire seasons had come and gone without me. Moons had risen and fallen over pack territory I no longer called home. Traditions had continued without my presence, and my place—once secure—had been left empty.

All because of Caleb.

I had chosen him over my family. Over my pack. Over the legacy woven into my blood long before I was old enough to understand its weight. I had turned my back on my parents’ warnings, on my brother’s anger, on the quiet expectations of an entire lineage that had prepared me from birth to lead, to protect, to endure. I told myself love was enough to justify that choice. I told myself I was strong enough to build a new life from nothing.

The plane taxied slowly along the runway, and with every passing second, the truth settled deeper into my chest.

I hadn’t just left a place.

I had abandoned who I was meant to be.

Now, as the aircraft rolled to a stop and the seatbelt sign chimed softly overhead, the weight of that realization pressed down on me harder than any judgment my family could have ever given. I had come back carrying regret, grief, and a heart cracked open by betrayal—but I had come back all the same.

Whether this land would still recognize me as its own, I didn’t yet know.

But as my wolf stirred faintly beneath my skin, responding to the familiar pull of pack territory, I understood one thing with absolute clarity.

No matter how far I had run, this was still home.

As the aircraft slowed to a stop, I tightened my grip around the strap of my bag, my palms damp with nerves. My wolf stirred faintly inside me, restless and uneasy, as if she recognized where we were even before I consciously did. The air itself felt different here—cleaner, heavier with familiar scents carried on the wind beyond the airport walls.

I followed the stream of passengers out of the plane, my heart pounding louder with every step. The moment my feet touched the terminal floor, a strange mixture of dread and longing settled deep in my chest. I hadn’t just come back to a place. I had come back to everything I once abandoned.

The arrival hall buzzed with movement and voices, the scent of humans and wolves blending together in a way that felt overwhelmingly familiar. I scanned the crowd nervously, my gaze darting from face to face.

I didn’t have to search long.

They were standing near the entrance, exactly as I remembered—my mother’s posture straight but tense, my father standing slightly ahead of her like a silent shield, and Declan looming beside them with his arms crossed, his presence impossible to miss. Even after five years, my brother looked exactly the same—broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, his wolf’s aura barely contained beneath his calm exterior.

My mother saw me first.

Her eyes widened, her breath catching visibly as she nudged my father with trembling fingers. The moment his gaze found mine, his composure cracked. And then my mother was already moving, weaving through the crowd with desperate urgency.

“Aurelia!”

Her voice carried over the noise, raw with emotion.

Before I could even respond, she was there, her arms wrapping tightly around me, pulling me into her familiar embrace. The scent of her—lavender, earth, and the comforting undertone of our pack—hit me all at once, and the dam inside me broke.

“Mom,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I buried my face against her shoulder.

She held me as if she would never let go, her fingers pressing into my back like she was afraid I might disappear again. When she finally pulled back, her hands immediately came up to cup my face, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she studied me closely.

“Let me look at you, my baby girl,” she murmured. “You’ve lost weight… your face looks thinner.”

She swallowed hard, then forced a smile. “But you’re still beautiful. Still my Aurelia.”

“Mom, you’re going to suffocate her,” Declan cut in, his voice teasing but thick with emotion.

He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me in a crushing hug, lifting me slightly off the ground as if I weighed nothing.

“Declan!” I laughed weakly, swatting at his arm. “Put me down!”

“You’re really here,” he said quietly as he set me back on my feet. “You’re home.”

My father stepped closer then, his presence grounding and steady. He didn’t pull me into a hug like Mom or Declan did. Instead, he rested a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring.

“You’re home,” he repeated, his voice rough with feeling.

I nodded, my throat tightening painfully. “I’m home.”

For a brief moment, surrounded by the people who had loved me long before Caleb ever existed, I felt something close to relief. Safe. Anchored. And yet, beneath it all, the weight of everything I had lost still clung to me like a shadow I couldn’t shake.

Then my father spoke again.

“Where’s Caleb?” he asked, glancing past me toward the crowd. “Is he handling the luggage?”

The question struck like a blade.

My smile faltered instantly. My fingers curled into fists at my sides as a familiar ache spread through my chest. I swallowed hard, my wolf whimpering softly inside me.

“He’s… not here,” I said quietly.

My mother frowned, confusion flashing across her face. “Aurelia? What do you mean, he’s not here?”

The words I had been holding back surged forward all at once. Tears spilled over before I could stop them, my vision blurring as I covered my face with trembling hands.

“Aurelia!” Mom exclaimed, alarmed. She reached for me immediately. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

I shook my head helplessly, but once the first crack appeared, everything came pouring out.

“Caleb cheated on me,” I said, my voice breaking apart. “He’s been sleeping with his assistant. Her name is Bianca.”

The air around us seemed to freeze.

“That bastard,” Declan snarled instantly, his fists clenching so tightly I could hear his knuckles crack.

My mother’s grip tightened on my shoulder, her breath hitching. “Aurelia…”

“And that’s not all,” I continued, my words tumbling out faster now. “I was pregnant, Mom. I didn’t even know it. But Caleb did. He knew, and he still signed off on a blood transfusion to save her.”

My voice dropped to a whisper. “I lost the baby.”

My mother gasped sharply, her hand flying to her mouth as her knees nearly buckled beneath her.

My father’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw locking as his alpha aura flared unconsciously. “He did what?”

“He sacrificed your child?” Declan growled, his voice low and dangerous. “If I ever see him—”

“Declan,” my father snapped, though his own voice shook with fury.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, turning to my mother. “I should have listened to you. You warned me. You both did.”

“Oh, my darling,” Mom whispered, pulling me back into her arms. “This was never your fault. Loving someone doesn’t make you weak.”

My father nodded grimly. “That man no longer has any claim on you. We will handle him.”

Declan stepped forward, eyes blazing. “Or I will.”

“No,” I said softly, wiping my tears and forcing myself to breathe. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

Declan looked unconvinced, but after a moment, he nodded.

The ride home passed quietly. My mother sat beside me, rubbing slow, soothing circles on my shoulder, murmuring apologies that weren’t hers to make.

“It’s not your fault, Mom,” I said hoarsely. “I made my choice.”

“We’re here now,” my father said gently from the driver’s seat. “You’re not alone anymore.”

When the gates of our estate came into view, my chest tightened with nostalgia. This place—the ancestral lands of our pack, the heart of our power—was where I had grown up. Where I had once sworn never to return.

Inside, the house welcomed me with warmth and familiar scents. At dinner, they kept the conversation light, careful not to reopen wounds. Still, I found myself asking the question that had been lingering in my mind.

“How’s the business?”

My parents exchanged a glance.

“Aurelia,” my father said carefully, “you don’t need to worry about that right now.”

“I do,” I replied firmly. “I need something to focus on.”

My mother sighed. “There is a potential investor. Very influential.”

“And?” I pressed.

“They insist on meeting the heiress,” my father finished quietly.

I froze. “Me?”

My mother met my gaze steadily, her expression calm but searching, as if she were looking past the wounds I wore on the surface and straight into the core of who I truly was. There was no pressure in her eyes, no expectation that I had to be strong before I was ready. Only trust.

“Only if you’re ready,” she repeated gently.

The words settled into me slowly, sinking past the ache in my chest, past the grief that still lingered like an open wound. For the first time since everything had fallen apart, I didn’t feel cornered or forced to make a choice out of desperation. This wasn’t Caleb dragging me somewhere against my will. This wasn’t survival. This was an invitation—to stand up again, on my own terms.

Something deep within me shifted.

My wolf, who had been curled inward since the hospital, silent and wounded, finally stirred. She didn’t snarl or lash out. She didn’t howl in rage. Instead, she Aurelia quietly, her presence steady and grounded, like a mountain that had endured countless storms and still stood unmoved. I felt her lift her head, felt her spine straighten inside me, felt that ancient strength—one passed down through generations of our pack—flow back into my veins.

For the first time in a long while, the pain did not define me.

I realized then that the woman who had boarded that plane was someone else entirely. She had been hollowed out by betrayal, bent under the weight of loss, still clinging to love that had already turned to ash. She had been surviving, not living—moving forward only because stopping would have shattered her completely.

But she wasn’t the woman standing here now.

Standing in my parents’ home, surrounded by the quiet strength of my pack, I felt something stitch itself back together inside my chest. Not perfectly. Not without scars. But enough to stand.

I had come back carrying grief, regret, and the ghost of a child I would never hold. I had come back thinking I was returning in defeat.

I was wrong.

I wasn’t returning to hide. I wasn’t here to lick my wounds and disappear into the background. This land, this family, this legacy—they were a part of me long before Caleb ever was. I had been born into power, into responsibility, into a future that demanded resilience.

I had simply forgotten.

I drew in a slow breath, letting the familiar scent of home fill my lungs. The walls around me no longer felt like a refuge for a broken woman, but like a foundation—solid, unyielding, waiting for me to stand upon it again.

I lifted my head.

“I’m ready,” I said quietly.

And for the first time since everything had been taken from me, I meant it.