CLEAN MY BABY UP

SALOME

The next morning, the sound of my alarm didn't ring to wake me up—it simply reminded me that the sun was rising. I hadn't slept anyway.

If I wanted to earn back my pride, fix the disaster I caused for Williams’s team, and stand tall as a true Luna, crying in bed was not going to cut it. Ice hockey had broken me, so ice hockey was going to rebuild me.

I threw on my heavy gear, laced my skates tightly, and stepped out onto the cold rink before the streetlights outside had even turned off.

Practice began, and this time, it was non-stop.

Day after day, I pushed my body past its absolute limits. I skated until my thighs felt like they were burning with lit matches, until the chilly air scraped against the back of my throat like sandpaper. My former failure played on a loop in my head every time I touched the puck. Twice, my legs completely gave out on me, sending me crashing hard onto the brutal ice, my lungs screaming for air as black spots danced across my vision.

Twice I collapsed. And three times I stood back up.

I wiped the sweat and icy moisture from my face, gripped my wooden stick, and started all over again.

I couldn't just practice alone, though. I needed real game experience. So, I reached out to a few of the nicer players from the pack’s sub-teams, setting up informal, friendly matches to work on my speed and posture. Among all of them, Annabel remained the absolute nicest.

She was the varsity player Williams had wanted to replace me with before the big match, but she never held a grudge against me. Instead, every morning after her own drills, she stayed behind to help me work on my defense.

"Keep your knees bent lower, Salome," Annabel said softly one afternoon, tapping her stick gently against mine to show me the angle. "Don't look down at the puck. Feel it with your stick and keep your eyes on the opponent. You're getting so much faster, I mean it."

"I just feel so clumsy," I confessed, my chest heaving as I rested my hands on my knees. "Every time I think I have it, I lose my rhythm."

Annabel skated over and placed a warm hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're not clumsy, Luna. You just tried to skip the basics last time. Now you're building a real foundation. Don't give up. You have the heart for this."

"Thank you, Annabel," I whispered, feeling a genuine wave of gratitude. "I don't know what I'd do without your help."

"We're teammates," she smiled warmly. "We lift each other up."

If only everyone on the team shared her spirit.

Miriam never stopped flaunting every single second she spent with Williams. She knew I was hurting, and she weaponized his anger against me. Since Williams was still managing the team’s logistics, Miriam made sure to linger around his office at the arena as much as possible.

One afternoon, right after a grueling three-hour session, my phone buzzed in the locker room. I opened the message, and my heart sank into my stomach. It was a video sent directly from Miriam’s number.

In the short clip, Williams was sitting at his desk, rubbing his temples, clearly exhausted with a stack of playbooks in front of him. Miriam leaned down, wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, and forced a firm kiss right onto his lips.

My breathing stopped. Williams didn't kiss her back—his hands stayed flat on the wooden desk, and his face remained blank—but my soul shattered because he didn't even try to stop her. He just let her do it, looking numbly at the wall as she pulled away with a triumphant smirk directed straight at the camera before the video ended.

I gripped the phone so hard my knuckles turned white, hot tears spilling down my flushed cheeks. He was so distant from me that he wouldn't even push away the woman who was actively trying to tear us apart.

At home, things were no better. It was as if Williams and I lived in completely different worlds under the same roof. I had almost forgotten that my husband even existed. We walked past each other in the hallways like silent shadows. Sex had completely died the day he stopped coming for it, and the physical distance between us felt wide enough to swallow the whole pack territory.

I stopped trying to seduce him. I stopped begging. I simply took care of his basic needs from a distance, making sure his clothes were pressed and his meals were prepared, while I threw all my pain into my training.

Then came a Friday morning that broke the cold routine.

I woke up at 5:00 AM as usual to get ready for hockey practice. As I quietly stepped out of the bathroom with my hair tied up, I noticed Williams was still in bed.

I froze near the closet, staring at him. Williams was an early riser. He was usually up by 4:30 AM every single day, either out for a run in his wolf form or already at his desk reviewing pack affairs. But today, he was completely buried under the heavy duvet, his face turned toward the wall, breathing heavily.

That was strange.

I took a tentative step toward his side of the mattress, my hand reaching out to touch his forehead to check if he had a fever. But then I hesitated. Remembering his cold eyes, his harsh words from nights ago, and the video of Miriam kissing him, my hand pulled back. He had made it abundantly clear that he wanted space.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, finished getting dressed, and headed downstairs. I went into the kitchen and made sure a full, hot breakfast was served on the dining table like always, leaving a cover over it so it wouldn't get cold.

"He's probably just tired," I murmured to myself, pulling on my heavy jacket before grabbing my hockey bag and heading out to the arena.

Two hours into my practice, as I was practicing sharp turns around the cones, Annabel suddenly burst through the arena doors. She didn't even bother putting on her skates; she ran straight across the rubber mats near the bleachers, her face pale with panic.

"Salome! Salome, stop!" she yelled, waving her hands wildly.

I dug my skates into the ice, coming to a sharp halt that sprayed cold ice dust everywhere. "Annabel? What's wrong? What happened?"

"It's Alpha Williams!" she gasped, clutching her chest as she tried to catch her breath. "I just got a call from the main office. The Alpha was just rushed to the pack hospital!"

My stick slipped from my numb fingers, clattering loudly against the ice. "What? Rushed to the hospital? Why?"

"Miriam found him and called the emergency team," Annabel explained, her eyes filled with confusion. "Salome, why... why did you leave him like that? Why didn't you take him to the hospital yourself if he was that sick?"

Her question hit me like a physical punch. I stood there on the freezing ice, my mouth opening and closing, completely unable to answer her. How could I tell her the embarrassing truth? How could I tell anyone that the Alpha and his Luna were so distant that we didn't even speak? That I slept on the far edge of the bed and didn't dare touch him even when he looked unwell?

I couldn't tell her that we weren't close. I couldn't admit out loud that my marriage was a hollow shell.

"I... I have to go," I choked out, not answering her.

Panic, terror, and a tidal wave of guilt rushed through my veins all at once. What if he was seriously hurt? What if something terrible had happened while he was lying in that bed and I had just walked past him to go skate on ice?

I didn't even bother changing out of my practice gear. I kicked off my skates, threw on my sneakers, and ran out of the arena as fast as my aching legs could carry me.

I drove like a madwoman to the pack clinic, my hands shaking so violently on the steering wheel that I could barely keep the car in its lane. Tears blinded my vision the entire drive. I kept praying over and over, promising the Moon Goddess that I would endure any coldness from him, any punishment, as long as he was okay.

When I burst through the front glass doors of the pack hospital, the sharp smell of antiseptic hit my nose. I hurried straight up to the head reception desk, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

"Alpha Williams," I panted, leaning heavily against the high counter. "Please, what room is Alpha Williams in? I need to see him right now!"

The nurse behind the counter, an older woman with a stern face and sharp eyes, looked up from her computer screen. She didn't look worried at all; instead, her gaze was cold and full of deep disgust.

"You can't go in," the nurse said flatly, pulling a digital folder toward her.

"What do you mean I can't go in?" I cried out, my voice cracking with desperation. "I'm his wife! I need to see my husband!"

"Your wife status isn't updated on his emergency intake paperwork," the nurse replied coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Miriam's name is still registered as the primary emergency contact and wife on his official pack medical records. She was the one who brought him in, so she has exclusive access to the VIP wing."

"No, you don't understand!" I begged, tears streaming down my face as I clutched the edge of the desk. "Miriam is his ex! I am the Luna! I am his actual wife! Please, just let me go up there, I'm begging you!"

The nurse let out a harsh, loud hiss, shaking her head with utter disdain.

"Do you mean to tell me that you slept in the same bed with the Alpha, woke up, walked past him, and couldn't even tell when he had passed out into a critical feverish state?" the nurse sneered, her voice loud enough for the people in the waiting room to hear. "You left him lying there like trash while you went out to play on the ice! You are lucky he did not die!"

Her words slashed through me, opening up a wound so deep I felt like I couldn't breathe. The guilt slammed into me with crushing force. He had passed out... he was unconscious while I was packing my bag.

Before I could even find my voice to respond, high heels clinked sharply against the tiled floor.

Miriam walked out of the VIP elevator corridor, wearing an immaculate white dress, looking completely composed. She stopped beside the reception desk, looking down her nose at me with a cold, victorious smirk.

"She is not his wife," Miriam said smoothly to the head nurse, her voice dripping with venomous amusement. "She's just the maid. A senior maid, maybe, who cooks his breakfast and cleans his room."

"Miriam, please..." I sobbed, lowering all my pride, reaching out toward her. "Please, just let me see him. Just for one minute. Is he okay?"

Miriam swiped my hand away as if I were a pest. She turned to the hospital security guards standing near the entrance. "Guards, please escort this maid out of the VIP wing. She's creating a scene and disturbing the Alpha's rest."

"Yes, Lady Miriam," the guards replied immediately.

"Wait! No! Let me go!" I cried as two heavy-set guards stepped forward, grabbing my arms and firmly forcing me back toward the glass exit doors.

They pushed me out into the cold courtyard outside the hospital wing. The doors locked behind me with a sharp electronic beep.

Desperate, broken, and terrified, I didn't leave. I ran around the side of the building toward the ground-floor VIP observation windows. The glass was thick and tinted, but I pressed my hands against the cold surface, peering inside with tears blurring my vision.

There he was.

Williams was lying on the high hospital bed, an IV line hooked up to his arm, monitors blinking beside him. His face was pale, his strong chest rising and falling slowly. He was completely unconscious, stripped of his usual power and dominance.

My heart bled at the sight of him looking so vulnerable. "Williams..." I whimpered, pressing my forehead against the chilly glass, leaving a faint fog of breath on the window.

Inside the room, Miriam walked over to the side of his bed. She turned her head slightly toward the window and caught a glimpse of me standing outside in the cold, weeping.

A cruel, dark smile spread across her face.

Knowing full well that I was watching her every move, Miriam slowly leaned down over my unconscious husband. She placed her hands on his chest and pressed her lips firmly against his mouth, kissing him deeply, passionately, right in my presence.

I pounded my fist weakly against the thick glass, a silent scream tearing from my throat, but no sound could pass through the soundproof window.

Miriam pulled back from the kiss, looking directly at me through the glass with eyes full of spite. She slowly reached down toward the blanket covering Williams's lower body. With deliberate, agonizing slowness, she reached for his trousers and unbuttoned his zip, pulling the heavy fabric down just enough to adjust his medical gown.

She leaned down close to Williams's ear, her lips moving as she whispered softly, her eyes locked on mine through the window:

"Let me clean my baby up..."