Chapter1：She Lost Her Mom, He Wasn’t There

Katelyn’s POV

It was a little after 1 p.m. when I got to the funeral venue. The sky was overcast. Most of the guests were already seated, and several heads turned as I walked in late. 

My phone buzzed with another message, one of many generic condolences I’d been receiving for days.

But the one person I was hoping to hear from, even just a lazy “sry” sent nothing.

Not a word. Not even a period.

Ethan, Alpha of the most powerful werewolf pack in the country. CEO of Moonlight pack Enterprises. The most powerful man in our world, feared by some, respected by all.

My mate.

The one person who should’ve been by my side today… couldn’t even be bothered to send a text.

I stared at the screen longer than I should have, hoping maybe something would pop up. It didn’t. And somehow, even though I’d seen this kind of coldness from him before, it still hurt.

Disappointed, I slipped my phone back into my clutch and straightened up in time to spot Derek.

Derek was tall. Standing at 6 foot 7, he was often mistaken for a basketball player. His tall frame moved determinedly like a storm, crossing the aisle in just a few strides, cutting through people without apology. He didn’t even wait until we were out of earshot.

“You’re late.” His voice was low but hard-edged. “Mom waited for you for years, and you couldn’t even show up on time for this?”

“I got delayed,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “The flight.…”

“Don’t,” he snapped. “Don’t blame the flight, Katelyn. You knew what today was.”

“I do know,” I said tightly. “Believe it or not, I’m the one who lost a mother too.”

His jaw tightened. “Oh yeah? Then where’s your loving husband? Shouldn’t he be here, holding your hand, playing the grieving son-in-law?”

I froze. Our father, Alpha Marcus, was now beside Derek, though his eyes were bloodshot and his gaze held no warmth as he looked at me.

“Where is Alpha Ethan?” he asked.

“He, he’s stuck in meetings,” I lied. “He couldn’t….”

“Meetings?” Derek scoffed. “Seriously? Your mother dies, and he’s too busy to pay his respects? Is that the excuse you’re running with?”

“Can we not do this here?” I whispered, glancing at the rows of people behind us. “This isn’t the time.”

“Oh, I think it is,” he said, not bothering to lower his voice. “Do you think none of us noticed? Every time you try to reach him, you have to go through his secretary. You don’t even get your husband on the phone without scheduling an appointment. That’s not a marriage, Katie. That’s a f**king performance.”

I swallowed hard. I wasn’t ready for this. At least not today.

But Derek kept going. “You’re hanging on by threads and pretending it’s a rope. Wake up. He doesn’t give a damn about you. He didn’t even bother to show up for Mom’s funeral. You really think he sees this family as his?”

“Stop it,” I hissed. “That’s enough.”

Derek stared at me, jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. I could tell he wanted to say more, but our father put a hand on his shoulder, quietly pulling him back.

I looked away, not trusting my voice. My stomach twisted as a heavy knot formed right behind my ribs. I reached for the only thing that could pull me back from the edge.

“Where’s Lucas?” I asked in the most normal tone I could manage. “Did someone bring him inside already?”

No one answered.

My father sighed and pointed to the row behind him.

 “He’s there,” he said. “He didn’t want to sit at the front.”

Following the direction of his hand, I spotted my son in the corner pew. He was half-hidden behind a woman’s hat. His small fingers were pushing a toy car across the bench, completely absorbed in his own world.

A lock of his ebony hair flopped over an eye in his bent state, and his jaw was bobbing as his lips shifted from a buzz to a round shape, probably from making engine sounds to himself.

A slow pain crept into my chest. I hadn’t seen him in days.

Because the flu had been severe where I lived, I’d entrusted Lucas to Marcus to take care of him these past few days.

Now, seeing him so absorbed in his world, I just missed him terribly.

I missed him, missed the sound of his laugh, the way his fingers curled into mine without hesitation.

But lately, those moments have been slipping away from me.

 I remembered one afternoon when I went to pick Lucas up from school. 

He spotted me by the gate but didn’t run over the way he used to. Instead, he stood still, frowning, his backpack slipping down one arm.

“Where’s Dad?” he asked.

“He’s busy,” I said, forcing a smile. “So I came.”

He hesitated. “I thought… Aunt Scarlett was coming today.”

The words caught me off guard. He’d never met her; he only knew her from Ethan’s stories and the way his grandparents spoke of her as if she were still around.

“She’s not coming,” I said quietly.

His shoulders slumped. “Oh.” He looked away, clearly disappointed.

I tried to close the distance between us. “Come on, Lucas, let’s go home.”

He nodded but walked ahead of me without holding my hand. The teacher gave me a sympathetic glance, but I pretended not to see it.

In the car, he stayed silent, staring out the window, tracing shapes in the fogged glass. I tried to start a conversation, asked about school, his friends, anything, but he only nodded or shrugged.

By the time we reached home, the silence felt heavier than words. I laughed softly to fill it, pretending I didn’t care, but inside, it stung. He didn’t see me as the parent he wanted, just the one who showed up.

That memory had stayed with me, lodged in a corner of my heart I rarely touched. And standing there now, watching him bent over the table, I felt that same ache return.

I walked over slowly. “Lucas,” I said softly.

He looked up, and the moment his eyes met mine, his face lit up. “Mom!”

He scrambled to his feet and threw his arms around my waist. I bent down, hugging him tightly. He smelled like fresh laundry and crayons.

“I missed you,” I murmured into his hair.

“I missed you too,” he said. “Grandpa’s been helping me with my drawing. Wanna see?”

“Of course.”

He sat back down and pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. It was a mess of colors with red scribbles, a blue stick figure, and something that looked like a flower.

“It’s for Aunt Scarlett,” he said proudly. “I’m making her a welcome-back gift.”

My smile froze. I felt sad. Maybe he didn’t mean to hurt me, but the words pressed hard against the part of me that still remembered being the one he didn’t want to come for him.

How could I forget? Of course my sister would be back for the funeral. Because ten years ago, when Ethan and I were forced into marriage, Scarlett left. 

We never contacted each other again. And ever since that day, the family believed I had stolen Ethan away, branding me as the reason she walked out. 

That belief had rotted through everything between us, turning my relationship with them into nothing but suspicion, resentment, and silence.

Lucas beamed as he held up the drawing, then gave a quick nod like he was proud of himself. “She’s coming home today! Daddy knows, too.”

He leaned in a little, lowering his voice like it was a big secret. “He told me not to tell anyone ’cause it’s a surprise.” He giggled. “Oops.”

He grinned and went back to coloring.

I stood up slowly, stepping back toward the hallway as I pulled out my phone. The number was still saved under “MATE.” 

 I hit call. It rang once. Then twice. 

"If you need something, call my Beta. I'm still busy." Ethan said flatly, his tone as cold as the wind biting at my skin.

Before I could say anything, the line went dead.

I stared at the screen. No message. No callback. Not that I expected one. It wasn’t even sadness anymore. Just a dull, constant hum, like background noise I’d learned to live with.

Later on, the sound of a microphone tapping echoed softly across the chapel.

“The pastor’s about to speak,” someone whispered.

People began shifting in their seats, settling down, murmurs fading into silence. I turned back toward the pews, scanning for an open spot.

Lucas was still sitting where I’d left him, his toy tucked into the crook of his arm. I walked toward him, planning to slide in next to him. But just a few feet away, I stopped.

He was talking.

“This seat’s for Aunt Scarlett,” he said, patting the empty space beside him.

My heart thumped once, loud and slow.

Derek leaned in. “That’s right, bud. Your mom’s been way too hard on Scarlett anyway.”

I didn’t breathe.

Then came my father’s voice, low but clear. “Not just you, Lucas, everyone likes Scarlett. How about letting her be your mom?”

Lucas nodded at them like it all made sense.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

I just stood there, a few steps away, invisible in plain sight.

My legs felt numb, but I couldn’t bring myself to sit down or even pretend I hadn’t heard. 

I just stood there, suddenly aware of how cold the chapel had become and suddenly clear about how unimportant I was to my family, including my own son.