Breaking the Bond: My Pup, My Choice

When I'm four months pregnant, I come home from a checkup to find my mate, Ethan Hale, standing on a ladder in the nursery, pressing glow-in-the-dark constellations onto the ceiling. His childhood friend, Mia Vance, sits below with her chin in her hands, directing his every move. "Ethan, Orion's crooked. Shift it right a little. Yes, like that, so my goddaughter can see it from her crib." "You're worse than the actual mom, you know that?" He laughs. They joke back and forth, and neither of them notices me in the doorway. A pack member wrapping up a furniture delivery catches Ethan on his way out. "Alpha, the Luna really cares about the pup. That star map looks perfect." Ethan glances at Mia, who ducks her head with a blush, and says nothing to correct him. I don't move. Every detail in this nursery is Mia's doing. She picks the snow-white paint on the walls and the carousel mobile over the crib. Even the baby's nickname is Amber—named after a rabbit Mia had for eight years before it recently died. I tell Ethan over and over that I don't like any of it. He always says the same thing, that it's just a casual nickname and not worth getting upset over. I open my phone and submit a mate bond dissolution request to the Elder Council because this is my pup, and I'm going to be the one who names her.