Lily’s POV

The doctor’s assistant handed me the envelope as soon as I walked into the doctor’s office the day after. “Luna Lily,” she said gently, “your test results are in. You’ll need to speak with Doctor for the treatments and medical procedures.”

My hand trembled slightly as I took the envelope. I could barely hear her as she added, “She said your symptoms is not pregnancy-related at all. You’ll know once you open the results… let’s hope for the best, alright?”

Hope. That fragile word kept coming up lately, as if people could smell how much I needed it. I clutched the envelope tightly against my chest, afraid that opening it would shatter whatever illusions I still clung to.

It had been days since my last meal stayed down. My skin felt like it was stretched too tightly over my bones. I was constantly fatigued, dizzy, and plagued with back pain that no one could quite explain. Even my wolf, usually restless and protective during late pregnancy, was subdued—quiet, like she was hiding something from me.

I sank down on the bench outside the clinic, too drained to open the results just yet. My eyes wandered toward the glass doors of the next wing—and that’s when I saw him.

Alpha Hudson.

He was walking down the hospital hallway beside Abigail again, a hand gently placed on her lower back as if guiding her protectively. His head tilted toward her, voice low, soft. He looked calm. Attentive.

I hadn’t seen that look on his face for so long. Certainly not around me.

They stopped by the records desk, and Hudson stepped into another doctor’s office alone—probably to pick up her medical report. Abigail lingered by the door, touching her bump dramatically with a self-satisfied air.

I forced myself to look away, tears threatening. The paper in my hand burned like fire. My stomach twisted violently, but I swallowed the nausea and stood. I wouldn’t cry. Not here.

But then Abigail noticed me.

She cocked her head with a mocking smile and walked right over, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of a confrontation.

“Luna,” she said sweetly, “you should be careful lurking around like this. It’s not a good look—clinging to a dying bond.”

I stared at her, unmoving. “It’s funny hearing that from someone who clung so hard to a failed mateship, she had to sneak into mine.”

Her smile faltered. “I had Hudson first. You’re just the replacement. A temporary Luna. And now that I’m carrying his child, maybe it’s time you step aside.”

The words hit harder than I expected. My wolf growled low inside me. I gripped the envelope tighter.

“You’re disgusting,” I spat. “If your mate rejected you, go back to him. Don’t ruin another’s bond just because you can’t handle your own failure.”

Abigail’s eyes flashed. “You poor thing. Still pretending Hudson wants you? That baby you’re carrying… I wouldn’t be surprised if he forgets all about it once mine is born. I mean, why raise two pups when you can raise one with the woman he actually loves?”

A breath hitched in my throat. No. He told me Abigail’s child wasn’t his. He looked me in the eye and swore he was only helping her as an old friend. I begged for the truth, and he promised me—

But why did her words feel so real now?

My hand moved instinctively to my bump. My wolf whimpered inside me, but I held my ground.

“Back off,” I warned. “You don’t want to start something you’ll regret.”

Abigail’s eyes dropped to the envelope in my hand. “What’s that?” she asked, reaching forward before I could stop her.

“Give that back!”

Too late.

She tore the top open and scanned the first page. Her lips curled into a wicked grin. “Oh. Oh my Goddess… You have cancer?”

I froze.

She laughed. Laughed.

“Moon above, this is rich. The Luna—dying? Maybe the Goddess is on my side after all. You and your pup… you might die together.”

Something inside me snapped.

My palm flew before I could stop it, striking her sharply across the face.

Abigail stumbled dramatically, then yelped as she fell backward—right into a small wooden side table. A glass vase shattered beneath her, and her wail echoed through the corridor. She didn’t hesitate—she thrust her hand into the broken glass, cutting her palm deliberately.

Blood gushed.

“Help!” she screamed. “The Luna—she attacked me!”

The office door flew open.

Hudson charged out, eyes landing on Abigail first. He didn’t even look at me before rushing to her side.

“What the hell did you do, Lily?!” he barked, pushing me roughly. I staggered back, clutching my belly.

“I didn’t push her—she staged it!” I cried. “Hudson, listen to me—”

“Alpha,” Abigail whimpered, playing weak, “please don’t fight with her… She’s just upset. I understand. I’m sorry if I made things worse.”

“She needs to apologize!” Hudson snarled, turning to me.

I held out the blood-smeared paper. “Please, just read this. I have cance—”

He slapped it from my hands.

The paper fell to the tiled floor, sliding into a pool of Abigail’s blood. The ink blurred. Unreadable.

“I don’t have time for your drama,” he snapped. “I’m done walking on eggshells around you.”

My heart cracked open. “You’re really choosing her. Even now.”

“If you apologize to Abigail,” he said coldly, “I’ll come with you to your next check-up. Apologize. First.”

I stared at him—this male I once called my mate. The same Alpha who promised to protect me with his life. He now stood before me, demanding I bow to the she-wolf who took everything from me.

I looked down at the ruined paper. Then back at him.

“No.”

“Lily—”

“No,” I repeated, louder this time. “You’ve disappointed me in ways I can never put into words.”

My baby stirred. A small kick.

“I won’t apologize for telling the truth. And I won’t beg for scraps of your attention anymore.”

Then I turned around, refusing to look back.

Lily’s POV

The moment I turned my back and walked away from the hospital, the world around me dulled. My wolf whimpered low in my chest, wounded but silent, like she didn’t even have the strength to snarl anymore. I should’ve shifted, let her take the reins, maybe run until my paws bled—but I was too tired. Too hollow.

I had cancer.

I hadn’t even processed it fully. The words on that damn report blurred in my mind like smoke. And Hudson… the father of my unborn pup, my mate—my Alpha—he had shoved me aside like I was nothing. No, worse than nothing. He picked up the woman who ruined us, carried her in his arms, and called me emotional like I was just being dramatic.

I was carrying his child, for the Moon Goddess’ sake.

And he still chose Abigail.

Every step back to the River Valley Packhouse felt heavier than the last. The wind was colder, the leaves didn’t whisper—they stared. The whole world seemed to watch me break apart in silence.

When I stepped into our home, I paused. The scent of cedarwood and honey—his scent—was fading, already replaced with something else. Lavender and lilac. Abigail. Her scent was here, clinging to the corners, soaked into the furniture like a stain I couldn’t scrub out.

My eyes landed on the large framed photo from our mateship ceremony. Hudson had been smiling that day. Really smiling. Holding my waist, his forehead pressed to mine, like nothing else existed but us. I reached for it slowly and pulled it down from the wall.

The frame cracked as it hit the bottom of the trash bin.

I didn’t flinch.

I moved through the room in silence, packing piece by piece. I didn’t have much energy left, but I had enough to get out. My body felt like it was shutting down, my joints aching, stomach twisting, head heavy and clouded. I could already feel the cancer dragging at me like a curse woven into my bones.

The pup stirred in my womb as if sensing my pain.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered, resting both palms over my belly. “We’ll leave soon. We’ll be safe soon.”

After a long bath, trying to soothe the fire under my skin, I wrapped myself in a thick robe and called for the pack’s medical team. I didn’t have much time left. If I was going to make it through this pregnancy, I needed the healers’ guidance. Even if I didn’t survive, I had to make sure my pup did.

When I padded down the stairs, the scent of wolfsbane tea and eucalyptus hit me first. The healers were already here, gathered respectfully in the living room, their heads bowed in greeting. Elder Matteo was among them, a wise and steady healer. I trusted him more than most.

“Luna Lily,” he greeted with soft concern. “We came as requested.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, voice thinner than I wanted it to be. “Please… let’s talk.”

The front door creaked open.

Hudson stepped inside, carrying Abigail in his arms like some kind of wounded treasure. My eyes narrowed.

“I told you not to bring her here,” I said, standing between them and the living room.

Hudson’s gaze hardened immediately. “She’s unwell. Because of what you did.”

“What I did?” I scoffed. “She threw herself on a vase and bled on purpose! You think I can’t scent her lies?”

Abigail whimpered, her eyes glistening. “I only came because I didn’t know where else to go… I’m just here for the baby’s sake, Luna. Please…”

My jaw clenched so tightly I thought I might crack a fang.

“You’re not welcome here.”

Abigail lowered her eyes, her lip trembling. Then, she reached for Hudson’s hand and placed it on her barely-there belly bump.

“I guess me and the baby will leave then, Alpha… even though I’m feeling so faint. But if Luna Lily wants us gone, I’ll respect that.”

Manipulative she-wolf.

Hudson’s voice turned sharp. “What is wrong with you? Where is your compassion? She’s carrying a pup!”

“So am I!” I snapped, feeling my control slipping. “Or have you forgotten that I’m your Luna and the mother of your firstborn?”

Hudson stared at me like I was a stranger. “If it’s such a problem, Lily… maybe you should leave.”

He didn’t.

He didn’t just say that in front of the healers, did he?

All heads turned toward me. Some looked away quickly, ashamed. Others, like Elder Matteo, met my gaze with silent fury—but said nothing.

My lips parted, but no sound came. Not even a cry.

I took a breath. Then another.

“Fine,” I whispered, barely audible. “Do what you want.”

I turned around, ready to walk away, when Abigail’s voice cooed behind me.

“Alpha, did she trash your mateship photo? That’s such a shame… I always thought that picture looked so lovely on the wall.”

My feet paused for a second.

But I didn’t turn around.

“She’s just being dramatic,” Hudson muttered. “She’ll crawl back when she cools down.”

I walked out without a word. A tear slipped down my cheek.

But it was the last one I would ever shed for Alpha Hudson.

Lily’s POV

I’d spent the night in a small lodge at the edge of pack lands—just me, my thoughts, and the biting winter air. I wanted distance from him—my mate—and the wound in my soul. But distance didn’t heal what was broken. It only reminded me how deeply I’d shattered.

Returning home that morning, I clasped my belly protectively. My steps faltered at the door, because something in the scent had changed. The air held a soft perfume I recognized all too well: clean lilac mixed with Abigail’s artificial rosewater. It wound through the hallway, sliding into my lungs like ash.

My wolf growled low.

On trembling paws, I headed upstairs and froze in the hallway. Voices echoed behind my door—three of the pack’s healers and two nurses were murmuring to Abigail. What was my room doing filled with her?

My heart pounded in my ears. Every memory tied to that room—every poem written by firelight, every lazy afternoon in the reading nook, every hopeful vision of the future painted in soft pastels—felt tainted.

I pressed my palm to my lips to steady my breathing, calmed my wolf, and opened the door.

Inside, it was theirs now.

Abigail lay in my bed, tucked under the very sheets I chose. She smiled up at the healers, her fingers running over the edge of my blanket. My vanity, once covered in my perfume, was replaced with her hairbrushes and lotions. Her framed photos sat where my crystals and Luna journal used to be.

Fury exploded from my gut like fire. I stormed forward and hauled her upright.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” I snarled.

Before the words left my mouth, two strong arms wrapped around me and yanked me backward.

“Ah!” Abigail screamed. “Alpha, help!”

And just like literal magic, the Alpha came running to rescue her. “Lily! Enough!” Hudson’s voice cracked. He pulled me into the hallway, his body firm but cold. “Stop acting like a lunatic.”

I pulled away, tears blurring my vision. “This is my room! Mine! You—”

“Enough,” he repeated, harshly. He held up a hand, steeling his voice. “Abigail likes it. I offered it to her. Choose another room.”

“What about the healers?” I pointed inside, my voice trembling. “These are doctors I requested for me. I’m sick, Hudson. Terminally—“

He cut me off, his tone stinging. “You caused all this. You pushed Abigail and she got hurt! She needed help—so I brought in the healers. Damn it! If you keep on questioning my decisions like this, then maybe this mateship was a mistake. So fucking disappointing, you won’t even listen to your own mate.”

I felt blood drain from my veins.

“You can’t be serious,” I whispered. My wolf trembled in my chest.

His eyes were stone. “You won’t apologize, won’t do what I ask. Then maybe it’s time you left. Go raise your pup somewhere else.”

He was willing to kick me—his Luna—out of our home?

I sank to my knees, clutching my swollen belly, tears hot and raw. I didn’t have the words anymore.

I didn’t even try to stand.

The room spun as I made my way to the door over unsteady legs.

Later that night, I lay in the guestroom mattress Hudson insisted I use. I wasn’t angry anymore—not at him, not at Abigail. Just… empty. Weary. My skin itched from rigors of sickness. My joints throbbed. My wolf rested beside me, protective and near-silent, little paw pressed against my hand.

My phone buzzed with messages. I was too exhausted to ignore them.

At first, it was just one from Abigail.

I opened it. Her voice, soft and sweet, [Hudson brought the cutier postcards to show the pup. Isn’t he just the best father?]

My heart cracked a little more.

Another message.

[Abi, I hope you’re resting well. I know how stressful this must be for you. I’m sorry if Lily acted out again. I already scolded her.] It seemed like Hudson wasn’t even aware he was being recorded while showering Abigail with those words.

Then a third.

I hesitated before pressing play.

Hudson’s voice came through, warm and doting. [Don’t worry, love. I brought you chamomile tea. Our baby is doing great. You’re glowing.]

My hands trembled so hard, my nails dug into my palms.

My Luna chamber in the other wing. The shared study. The big bed. They’d all been whispers of us. But his voice—his soft confessions—were rehearsals. Abigail got the full performance in private.

I pressed the phone against my ear. My body shook until I laughed—not from humor, but from the pain so sharp it was absurd. My wolf whimpered inside me, and I hugged my bump tighter.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s just you and me now.”

A gentle kick answered.

“I promise you’ll be safe.”

I didn’t cry again. I didn’t cry for him. Or for the woman he chose over me.

I exhaled and closed my eyes.

Freedom would come soon.

But for now… I had my pup and my illness. And a heart that still caught its breath despite getting broken.