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.

Lily’s POV

Since Abigail moved into our shared quarters, the air around Hudson and me had shifted—like the very winds changed course without warning. He ghosted through my days, swallowed by guilt and divided loyalties. Even at the hospital, during my cancer treatments, he showed up for Abigail. Cradled her hair. Coaxed her into shifts of comfort. Words meant for a Luna—sweet whispers, promises, devotion—bleeded from him when he touched her.

He didn’t even know I had cancer until now. He refused to listen to anything I say.

I no longer expected anything from him. My heart had locked down, barricaded behind grief and broken vows.

That night, after another grueling session, I stumbled out of the hospital wing. My bones ached as if rebelling against my weak body. The initial treatment was moving too quickly—my strength draining like grains of sand through desperate claws.

I shouldn’t have come home, but what else was left for me?

My steps were leaden as I climbed the corridor to the Alpha quarters—half of me hoping he wouldn’t be there, half fearing the worst. Then, a soft flicker of light under his door and Abigail’s voice, as clear as moonlight.

“Alpha… may I borrow the River Valley Pack’s Moonstone necklace?” Her tone was as gentle as a begging doe. “You gave it to Lily on your mateship day. I only wish—”

I pressed myself against the wall, breath catching.

The Moonstone—the heirloom of the River Valley Pack, passed from Luna to Luna for centuries. Hudson pinned it around my neck under the full moon. He called it a promise. A bond. A declaration of forever.

And now he was about to hand it to Abigail.

“Of course, darling, it suits you. Until the pup is born,” he said, voice soft. He leaned in and kissed her cheek.

A sharp pain lanced through me—both physical and emotional—like a stake driven into my chest.

Then I heard him whisper, “I’ll ask Lily. I’ll tell her it’s just temporary.”

The moment he said that—I knew it was over. But amidst that, out eyes met, and yet, I didn’t care anymore.

I stumbled backward and turned away, tears stinging. The hallway spun, my legs threatening to give out. My wolf whimpered beneath my ribs, enraged and abandoned.

Then I felt strong arms loop around me, pulling me into his quarters.

Lips hovering close. His eyes flickered between concern and guilt.

“Lily—did you hear—” he started, voice sheepish.

“Just give it to her,” I said, cutting him off. “Give her the necklace. She can wear it as long as you want.”

His eyes widened. “You… you’re okay with this?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes.”

He exhaled, relief flooding his features. “Thank you. I knew you’d understand.”

He took my hand in his—softly—like he wanted to promise me something. But I knew better.

My gaze wandered to the small table. The sealed papers of mateship and Luna termination were already opened—waiting for his signature.

I wasn’t fool enough to believe he’d notice.

He squeezed my hand and murmured, “I promise. Once the pup is born—”

I raised a hand. “I don’t care if she never gives it back. Just sign this.”

He paused. The otherside of him flickered.

“Alright.” He hesitated. “You… you don’t want anything else?”

I pressed the papers into his hand. “No, so just sign this.”

He took them, scrolling his eyes down, but never read a word. He signed it without even knowing the context of the paper. How foolish, but it was for the best.

He sighed. “You’re doing this for leverage… I understand.” He searched my face. “But your place in the pack, in my heart? It’s still safe.”

I smiled coldly. I knew those were empty promises again.

Took a deep breath. Then gently undid the clasp of the Moonstone necklace around my throat.

He blinked.

I handed it to him without a tremor.

He caught it and brushed a finger along the stone. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” I said. “If she wants, she can keep that forever.”

He paused, longing gleaming in his eyes.

Then—he wrapped me in an embrace.

My body locked up, but my wolf stayed silent. I didn’t struggle.

I pulled away gently and stepped back.

“Don’t worry,” I whispered. “Just be with her.”

He stepped into her room, without a backward glance.

I lingered in the doorway for a heartbeat. Heard Abigail’s giddy laughter as the necklace was clasped around her.

Then I shut the door behind me. Later, in the cold early hours, I sat by the window in the old guestroom. My body trembled not from fear, but from the ache of my own survival.

My wolf whimpered, soft—afraid and betrayed—but I held her, cradling her inside me, soothing her pain.

“It’s okay,” I breathed. “We’re leaving. We’ll be safe.”

A gentle kick, like a rebuke or a comfort.

I wrapped both arms around my belly—my pup was the only one I needed now.

“I’ll protect you,” I whispered. “No more pain.”

I stayed like that until the moon slipped behind the clouds and my breath finally calmed.

Tomorrow, I would leave. And this time, I wouldn’t hesitate.

I encircled the last day in my calendar. Goodbye, Alpha.