Chapter 2: The Omega Who Left the Alpha

Three days.

That’s how long it took me to reach the outer territories.

Each step away from the Crescent Moon Pack felt like dragging my body through fire, but I didn’t stop. Not for food. Not for sleep. Only when the sun bled into the horizon did I allow myself to rest under trees too old to remember names, cradling my stomach like a shield.

The forest changed the farther I got from the pack. The air lost its familiar scents. No more baked bread from the kitchens. No training grunts in the wind. Just silence. Wind. Shadows. My wolf was quiet, as if mourning.

I found a rogue town just beyond the Blackridge border. It wasn’t marked on maps, but wolves like me, those who didn’t belong, found ways to hear about places where no rank mattered. A dirt path led to it, narrow and overgrown, lined with ash trees that whispered like ghosts. I followed it with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.

The town didn’t have a name. Just buildings that leaned like they were tired of standing. The streets were narrow, and the scent of old wolves and hidden pasts hung in the air. I was covered in dust and dried sweat, my dress torn at the hem, but no one looked twice at me.

That’s how I knew I was in the right place.

Nobody cared where I came from.

I found a room above a shabby little tavern called **The Broken Fang**. It smelled like stale ale and wet fur, but the rent was cheap, and the door locked. That was enough.

The tavern owner, Mira, was a scarred she-wolf with sharp eyes and a sharper voice. She didn’t ask questions. Just slid the key across the bar and muttered, “If you’re running, don’t bring your mess here.”

I nodded and went upstairs.

The room was small. One bed. One cracked window. A thin blanket and a thinner pillow. But it was mine.

I collapsed onto the mattress and finally let the tears come.

They didn’t stop until I fell asleep.

A week passed.

Then two.

I found work helping Mira with the tavern’s supplies. She didn’t pay much, but she fed me. I cleaned the tables, hauled crates, and stayed quiet. My wolf remained close to the surface, uneasy but silent. Every night I touched my belly, waiting for a flutter, a sign. Something to remind me why I’d left everything behind.

Then one evening, I felt it.

A gentle nudge beneath my skin.

Not a kick. Not yet.

Just a soft roll, like my pup was stretching inside me.

I froze, hand pressed to my stomach.

Life.

Tiny. Fragile. Real.

I didn’t cry this time. I smiled.

And for the first time in weeks, I whispered to someone.

“I’ll protect you.”

The rogue town had rules. Not like a pack. But quiet ones.

Don’t ask questions.

Don’t pick fights you can’t finish.

Don’t talk about the Alpha lands.

But Kael haunted me. Not in memories. In dreams.

I saw him standing on the edge of the clearing, calling my name.

Sometimes I saw Selene beside him, her hand on his chest, her smile sweet and cruel.

I always woke up sweating.

I avoided mirrors. I didn’t want to see her. The girl who gave everything to a man who didn’t want her.

But one morning, I caught my reflection in the cracked glass above the sink.

My face was thinner. My eyes are deeper. My stomach had begun to swell, soft and round beneath my shirt.

I didn’t look like an omega anymore.

I looked like a mother.

The first real scare came one night when I was walking back from the market.

A wolf stepped out of the alley tall, rough, yellow-eyed. Rogue.

He sniffed the air and smiled.

“You smell like Alpha,” he said, blocking my path.

I tightened my grip on the basket.

“Step aside,” I said quietly.

He didn’t.

“You’re not just carrying an Alpha scent,” he said. “You’re carrying something else. Something new.”

My stomach turned cold.

I backed up a step. He followed.

“I don’t want trouble,” I said.

“I do.”

His wolf surged just beneath his skin, claws flicking out.

But before he could lunge, a growl split the air.

Not mine.

**Jace.**

He stepped from the shadows like a storm. Taller. Stronger. Eyes burning like fire. He didn’t shift but he didn’t have to.

The rogue ran without a second thought.

I stared, heart pounding.

Jace stepped closer.

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

He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Dirt on his boots. Sweat on his collar. His Beta crest still burned into his wrist.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“No,” he said. “But the Alpha did.”

My blood ran cold.

“Kael sent you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t say much anymore. Not since you left. He just gave me your scent and said, ‘Make sure she’s safe.’”

I crossed my arms. “He didn’t want the baby enough to fight for us. Why now?”

Jace didn’t answer.

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small pouch. He handed it to me.

I opened it.

Inside was a necklace. A tiny silver pendant. A wolf curled around a moon.

I stared.

Kael’s mother had worn one just like it.

“He said…” Jace hesitated. “He said you deserved to feel like someone saw  you.”

I nearly dropped it.

But I didn’t cry.

“I don’t want his necklace,” I whispered.

Jace looked at me then, not like a Beta. Like a friend. “Then keep it for the pup. One day, they’ll ask about their father.”

Jace stayed for three days. Slept in the tavern’s attic. Watched over the building like a guard dog with no leash.

He never pushed. Never asked questions. Just lingered close enough for me to breathe a little easier.

We didn’t talk about Kael again.

But on the third night, he knocked on my door.

“I’m leaving at dawn,” he said.

I nodded.

He paused. “I know he hurt you.”

My throat tightened.

“But I also know he hasn’t been the same since.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I said.

He nodded. “Okay.”

He started to walk away.

“Jace?” I called.

He turned.

“Tell him the baby’s strong. Like him. But they’ll be stronger than both of us.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll tell him.”

After Jace left, things shifted.

I began to walk with purpose. Eat more. Sleep better.

I started planning. Not for a return but for the future.

I found a healer nearby. A rogue named Callen with a gentle voice and clever hands. He didn’t care about my past. Just checked my vitals and offered calming teas.

“You’re lucky,” he said during one visit. “Your pup is healthy. Strong heartbeat. No complications so far.”

Lucky.

I didn’t feel lucky.

But I was grateful.

I began stitching clothes for the baby by candlelight. Soft pieces made from scraps Mira let me take. I didn’t know if I was carrying a boy or girl, so I made everything neutral. Pale brown. Dusty green. Soft cream.

I talked to the bump sometimes, usually at night.

“Your father is an Alpha,” I whispered once, lying in bed. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be anything but yourself.”

Then came the letter.

It arrived in the claws of a hawk, tied with a black ribbon.

The Crescent Moon seal stamped on the paper.

I nearly didn’t open it.

But I did.

**Aria,**

**I know I don’t have the right to ask anything of you. But Selene’s back. And things are… complicated. There are whispers of challenge. The pack is restless. They’re asking about the heir.**

**I told them nothing. I kept your secret.**

**But I thought you should know.**

**Be safe.**

**Kael**

I read it three times.

Not because of what he said.

But what he *didn’t*.

He didn’t ask me to return.

He didn’t say he missed me.

Just that he kept my secret.

And suddenly I felt it that burning, slow-growing truth:

He might protect me from the outside world.

But he would never protect me from the loneliness he caused.

 

A storm came the next night.

Hard rain. Loud wind. Thunder that rattled windows.

I wrapped myself in blankets and counted the seconds between lightning flashes and thunder crashes. The pup kicked twice, as if annoyed by the noise.

I laughed softly. “You don’t like storms either, huh?”

Another kick. Harder this time.

And then… pain.

Sharp. Low. Twisting.

I sat up.

Another cramp.

I bit my lip, breathing fast.

It passed.

Then returned, stronger.

“No, no, not yet,” I whispered.

The baby wasn’t due for another two months.

I stood, gripping the wall, sweat forming at my hairline.

Another wave of pain bent me over.

I screamed.

The storm outside swallowed the sound.

And no one came.