After I Left, He Learned To Regret

On the third day after losing my pup, I lay in the pack infirmary and stared at the gray ceiling.

My belly, round with six months of hope only days earlier, was flat again.

The daughter who used to kick beneath my ribs whenever the moon was full no longer had a heartbeat.

In the room next door, a healthy pup had just been born. Relatives crowded the hallway with flowers, blankets, and charms blessed at the Moon Shrine. Their laughter slipped beneath my door.

My mate and my son had visited me once in three days.

Adrian had not ignored what Finn had done. In front of the pack healer, he removed the heir badge from Finn's collar, canceled six months of Alpha training, and ordered daily sessions with a child therapist.

"You lied to your mother and caused your sister's death," he told him. "This was not a prank."

Finn finally cried, frightened by his father's anger.

"Aunt Vivienne said the baby would only go back to the Moon Goddess. She said Mom could have another one."

Adrian's face changed at once.

Yet when Vivienne cried over the phone and claimed she had only been trying to comfort a worried child, he merely told her to choose her words more carefully in the future.

Finn lost his training, his celebrations, and the privileges of an heir.

The adult who had planted the idea in his mind was never formally questioned.

Once Adrian had finished punishing Finn, he took him to Vivienne's Winter Moon pageant.

My phone lit up that evening. My sister had sent me a video.

She was still wearing her stage gown and immaculate makeup. She sat in a restaurant near the pack theater while Adrian, my mate of six years, cut her steak into neat, bite-sized pieces.

Now he patiently pushed Vivienne's plate back toward her and warned her that the meat was still hot.

Finn sat beside them. Vivienne speared a Brussels sprout, his most hated vegetable, and held it to his mouth.

"A future Alpha cannot be afraid of vegetables."

Finn ate it immediately. Then he finished the rest of the serving and proudly displayed his empty plate to the camera.

They looked like a family.

And I was the one who didn't belong.

Vivienne smiled: "Who does Finn love most?"

"Aunt Vivienne, of course!" His round eyes shone.

"You never make me practice shift control or check my schoolwork. When Mom and Dad break their mate bond, can you move into the pack house?"

He sounded delighted, as though his sister had not just died.

Vivienne glanced at Adrian. He did not correct Finn. He only rubbed our son's hair with weary affection.

Vivienne had always been the better sister.

She completed her first shift at seven. Her silver-white wolf was so beautiful that Vale Pack celebrated for three days. When my turn came, I spent an entire night unconscious and managed to produce only a set of claws.

Our mother sighed in front of the family and said the Moon Goddess must have given Vivienne the talent meant for both daughters.

Vivienne was stronger, higher ranked, and more graceful. She knew how to make people feel chosen. I was the quiet sister who repaired broken relics and stood at the edge of every celebration.

I had accepted that blood relatives might always prefer her.

But I believed the Moon Goddess had finally chosen me when she gave Adrian to me. I believed the pup I carried for ten months and nearly died delivering would choose me too.

Fate choosing me did not mean they would.

I turned off the video and wiped my face.

If they all wanted Vivienne to be the mistress of Blackwood Pack, I would return the position to her.

I would no longer be Adrian's mate.

And I would no longer be the mother Finn assumed he could always reclaim.