Give the baby to Isyra

Lysera

The second healer’s words had barely settled when movement stirred at the edge of the pack square.

My mother arrived.

She walked in without hesitation, her steps steady and purposeful. The pack shifted instinctively to make way for her, bodies parting without a word. A few wolves bowed their heads as she passed.

“I’m so sorry for the loss of your grandchild,” one of them said quietly.

“The Moon Goddess will return your grandchild to you,” another added. “Bless her with twins to wipe away her sorrow.”

Grandchild.

I almost laughed—not because it was funny, but because it was so painfully absurd. A grandchild who had never existed. A life invented from lies, mourned with sincerity, given more weight and love than I had ever known.

They grieved something imaginary with more devotion than they had ever shown me, standing right there, bleeding in front of them.

And my mother accepted their condolences as if they were owed to her, her face set in practiced sorrow, her steps never slowing as she walked past them and headed straight to me. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach as I watched her approach.

I was still on my knees, my body trembling from pain and exhaustion, my back burning beneath half-healed wounds. My wolf stirred weakly inside me, sensing danger.

She looked down at me, her eyes as cold as glaciers. Then hatred and disgust, so sharp, filled her face before she spat.

The saliva landed near my feet, dark against the dirt.

I flinched. Without another word, she turned away, as if I were nothing more than filth she had stepped over.

She walked to Alpha Henry, stopping a few steps in front of him. She bowed slightly, her voice smoothing instantly, reshaping itself into something respectful and composed.

“Alpha,” she said, “Isyra has finally calmed down enough to sleep. The healer gave her something to help her rest. She was in a great deal of distress.”

Henry nodded. I saw the tension leave his shoulders. Joy and relief filled his eyes.

He really did love my sister. Why did that revelation cause fresh tears to spring to my eyes? My mate loved my sister. At the mention of her being able to finally fall asleep, he looked as if he’d received the best news ever. Yet here I was, battered and bruised in front of the whole pack, and he didn’t care.

“That is good,” he said quietly.

My mother nodded at him before turning back toward me. Her face hardened again, disgust curling her lips.

“Why is that thing still here?” she demanded sharply. “Why hasn’t she been thrown into the dungeon to rot where she belongs?”

The murmurs returned, louder now, as the pack began to curse at me for trying to escape punishment using my condition. They couldn’t believe I could be cruel enough to kill Isyra’s child while being pregnant myself.

I wanted to scream at them that I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Isyra’s baby because she wasn’t pregnant but I bit my lip until I tasted blood. I had already told them that before, and all I got was a blow to my mouth.

The pack might forbid punishing a pregnant woman, but with how much they hated me, I didn’t doubt for a moment that they would demand I be punished anyway and damn the consequences. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they demanded my baby be killed so I could experience the pain Isyra was feeling right now.

Before anyone else could answer my mother’s question, the second healer stepped forward, his voice firm.

“She has not been imprisoned because Lysera is pregnant,” he said. “A pregnant woman cannot be punished. It would bring ruin upon the pack.”

My mother froze. For a heartbeat, raw disbelief and shock flickered across her face as she shot a look at my father, who wore a grim expression, as if she needed confirmation that the healer wasn’t lying. He nodded at her. Then she looked back at me, her expression twisting as fury consumed it whole.

“Pregnant?” she repeated, incredulous. “You?”

She let out a harsh, humorless laugh.

“You shameless thing,” she hissed. “You stupid whore.”

My shoulders curled inward instinctively, and my hand reached for my stomach as if to shield my child from my mother’s hatred and rage.

“Who did this to you?” she demanded as she moved toward me. “Who laid with you? Which man did you spread your legs for this time?”

This time. She made it sound as if I slept around. As if I opened my legs for any man who wanted me. My throat sealed shut, my eyes locking on the ground. Maybe if I didn’t see how much she hated me, my heart wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Silent now?” she sneered. “As if you were silent when you let a man put his seed in you.”

As if my silence only fueled her fury, she rushed forward, hand raised to strike me but Healer Apollo stepped in front of me, halting her movement.

“You dare stop me?” my mother demanded, her voice laced with disbelief. “You dare stand in the way of me disciplining my daughter?”

“I apologize , Mrs. Monroe,” Healer Apollo said evenly, “but you cannot hit Lysera at this moment. She is pregnant.”

“I don’t care that she’s pregnant!” my mother screamed. “She didn’t care that Isyra was pregnant before she attacked her. That bitch killed my grandchild, and here she is, pregnant herself. I’m going to beat that bastard out of her. I’m going to make sure she experiences exactly the kind of pain my dear Isyra is experiencing right now.”

Her voice cracked at the end as she tried to move again, attempting to sidestep Healer Apollo, but he blocked her without hesitation.

“I’m the mother-in-law of the Alpha of this pack,” she shouted. “And you, a lowly healer, dare to stand in my way?”

“Mother,” Alpha Henry called.

His voice cut through the tension like ice water. My mother stopped shouting at Healer Apollo and turned to look at him.

Yes. He called my parents Mother and Father. He had done so for years, ever since his marriage to Isyra had been set in stone.

“I demand that Lysera be allowed to carry her child,” my father said at last, breaking his long silence, “and when it is born, the baby should be given to Isyra to compensate for the loss of her own.”