THE INVISIBLE WIFE

Two pink lines.

I stare at the plastic stick in my trembling hands, blinking rapidly to make sure I’m not hallucinating. I close my eyes, take a deep, shaky breath, and open them again.

They are still there. Two solid, undeniable pink lines.

“I’m pregnant,” I whisper to the empty bathroom, the words feeling foreign yet sweet on my tongue. A hand drifts down to rest over my flat stomach. “I’m going to be a mother.”

For the first time in three years, a genuine smile stretches across my face. It feels like a crack of sunlight breaking through a heavy, gray storm.

I have been the Luna of the Obsidian Pack for three years, but in title only. To the world, I am Evelyn, the lucky woman who married Alpha Kael, the most powerful wolf on the West Coast. To Kael, I am a contract obligation—a debt paid between grandfathers, a placeholder warming the seat until he finds something better.

But this… this changes everything.

Alphas cherish their heirs above all else. Kael is cold, yes. He is distant, and sometimes his indifference cuts deeper than a knife, but he is a man of duty. An heir will bind us. An heir might finally make him look at me and see his wife, not just a burden.

"Happy Anniversary, Kael," I whisper, tucking the test into the pocket of my silk robe. "I finally have the perfect gift."

By 7:00 PM, the penthouse smells divine.

I have spent the last four hours in the kitchen, dismissing the staff so I could do everything myself. I made his favorite: rosemary-crusted lamb with a red wine reduction, followed by a dark chocolate tart.

I set the table with the good crystal—the set we got as a wedding gift but never used. I light the tapered candles, their golden glow reflecting off the polished mahogany.

I run upstairs to change. I chose a dress I bought months ago but never had the courage to wear. It’s a deep emerald green that brings out the flecks of gold in my hazel eyes. It hugs my curves, tight enough to be alluring, but elegant enough for a Luna.

I brush my chestnut hair until it shines, letting it cascade down my back in loose waves. I apply a touch of lipstick, a dab of perfume on my pulse points.

I look in the mirror and, for a second, I see hope. I don’t look like the invisible wife tonight. I look like a Luna.

I go back downstairs and sit at the head of the table.

7:30 PM.

He is late. That’s fine. He is the Alpha; pack business is unpredictable. Rogue attacks, border disputes, council meetings—I know the drill. I pour myself a glass of sparkling water, pretending it’s champagne.

8:30 PM.

The lamb is getting cold. I get up and cover it with foil, placing it in the warming drawer. I check my phone. No texts. No missed calls.

I type out a message: Dinner is ready whenever you are. Happy Anniversary. x

I stare at the screen for five minutes. The status doesn't change to 'Read'.

9:45 PM.

The candles have burned down halfway. The silence in the penthouse is deafening. Usually, I don’t mind the quiet. It’s safer than his cold remarks. But tonight, the silence feels heavy. It feels like a premonition.

I stand up, my legs stiff, and walk into the living room. I shouldn’t do it. I know I shouldn’t. But my finger presses the power button on the remote anyway.

The massive flat-screen flickers to life, tuned to the local werewolf news channel.

“…live from the Annual Lycan Charity Gala in downtown Seattle,” the reporter chirps, the camera panning over a sea of tuxedos and designer gowns.

My breath hitches. The Charity Gala. I forgot it was tonight. But… Kael didn’t ask me to go. The Luna is supposed to be at the Alpha’s side for these events. It’s protocol. It’s tradition.

“And here comes the man of the hour!” the reporter gushes. “Alpha Kael of the Obsidian Pack, looking devastating as always.”

There he is.

Even through the screen, his presence is overwhelming. He wears a black tuxedo that fits his broad shoulders like a second skin. His jaw is sharp, covered in a shadow of stubble that makes my fingers itch to touch it. His steel-gray eyes are scanning the crowd with that bored, predatory look I know so well.

But he isn’t alone.

Clinging to his arm, wearing a dress that is more diamonds than fabric, is her.

Elena.

My stomach drops to the floor. Elena was his childhood friend. The one everyone thought he would marry before the contract with my family forced his hand. She left for Paris three years ago to pursue modeling.

I didn't know she was back.

On screen, Elena throws her head back and laughs at something the reporter says. She leans into Kael, her chest pressing against his arm. He doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans down and whispers something in her ear that makes her smile widen.

“Alpha Kael!” a reporter shouts. “Is it true that the Obsidian Pack is looking for a new Luna? Is this a soft launch of a new relationship?”

Kael looks directly into the camera. His expression is unreadable, completely void of emotion.

“Elena is a dear friend,” he says, his deep voice rumbling through my living room speakers. “And she has returned home to take her rightful place in the pack.”

Her rightful place.

I click the TV off. The room plunges back into silence, but now the silence is screaming.

He didn't forget our anniversary. He ignored it. He ignored it to parade his ex-girlfriend in front of the entire werewolf community.

I look down at my emerald dress. I feel foolish. I feel small.

I walk back to the dining room. I blow out the candles. The smoke curls up, acrid and gray, stinging my eyes. I take the plates, the crystal glasses, and the cold lamb, and I dump it all in the trash.

I am just scraping the chocolate tart into the bin when I hear the front door unlock.

The heavy oak door swings open, and Kael walks in.

He loosens his tie, pulling it from his collar with a weary sigh. He looks just as breathtaking as he did on TV, but the air around him changes the moment he steps into the house. The charisma vanishes, replaced by the icy wall he built between us on our wedding night.

He pauses, sniffing the air. His nose wrinkles.

“Why does it smell like burnt rosemary?” he asks, tossing his keys onto the entry table.

He doesn’t look at me. He walks past me toward the stairs, as if I am part of the furniture.

“Kael,” I say. My voice sounds weak, pathetic. I hate it.

He stops on the bottom step, one hand on the railing. He turns slowly, his gray eyes finally landing on me. He rakes his gaze over my dress, but there is no heat in his look. Only calculation.

“You’re still awake,” he states flatly. “It’s late.”

“It’s our anniversary,” I say.

Silence stretches between us. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t apologize. He just stares at me, his face a mask of indifference.

“Is it?” he asks. He sounds bored. “I forgot.”

Two words. I forgot. Not ‘I’m sorry.’ Not ‘Let me make it up to you.’

“I made dinner,” I say, gesturing vaguely to the kitchen where the remains of my effort are sitting in the garbage. “I waited.”

He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. “Evelyn, don’t start. I’ve had a long night. I don’t have the energy for your drama.”

Drama? I want to scream. I want to throw the crystal vase at his head. I want to tell him that I am his wife, not his employee.

But I don’t. I clutch the fabric of my dress, my knuckles turning white.

“I saw the news,” I whisper. “Elena is back.”

The temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. Kael’s eyes narrow.

“Elena is none of your concern,” he snaps, his voice dropping into that Alpha growl that usually makes my wolf submit. But tonight, my wolf is too hurt to cower.

“She was hanging off your arm, Kael. The reporters were asking if she’s the new Luna. You didn’t deny it.”

He steps off the stairs and walks toward me. He towers over me, radiating power and irritation.

“You are the Luna by contract, Evelyn. You have the title. You have the house. You have the credit cards. Isn't that enough?”

“I want a husband!” I cry out, tears finally spilling over. “I want a family, Kael! We have been married for three years and you treat me like a stranger!”

He laughs. It’s a harsh, humorless sound.

“We are strangers, Evelyn. We signed a piece of paper. That’s it.”

He turns his back on me, dismissing me. “Go to bed. And have the guest room prepared tomorrow. Elena is staying with us until she finds her own place.”

My blood runs cold. “She’s… staying here?”

“Yes. She is part of this pack, and she is under my protection. Do not make her feel unwelcome.”

He starts walking up the stairs again.

I think of the test in my pocket. I think of the baby growing inside me. His baby. If I tell him now… will it change anything? Or will he just think I’m trying to trap him, just like he thinks I trapped him into this marriage?

“Kael, wait,” I say, my voice trembling.

He pauses but doesn’t turn around. “What now?”

I grip the plastic stick in my pocket. My thumb rubs over the small window.

“I… I have something to tell you.”

He groans, looking up at the ceiling. “Can it wait until morning? I smell like expensive perfume and champagne, and I need a shower.”

You smell like her, I think.

“It’s important,” I press.

He turns his head slightly, giving me a sharp side-glance. “ unless the house is burning down, Evelyn, I don’t care. Leave me alone.”

He takes the stairs two at a time, disappearing into the shadows of the second floor. The door to the master bedroom—his bedroom, because I sleep down the hall—slams shut. The lock clicks.

I stand alone in the hallway, the silence rushing back in to drown me.

Slowly, I pull the pregnancy test out of my pocket. The two pink lines are still there, bright and mocking.

“Don’t worry, little one,” I whisper, a tear splashing onto the plastic display. “Mommy wants you. Even if Daddy doesn’t.”