Marked As the Substitute Mom

I was prepping the ceremonial cloak for our seventh mating anniversary.

The front door suddenly banged open.

My son rushed inside, tears streaming down his face.

"The teacher yelled at me," he sobbed.

He shoved the wrinkled drawing into my hands before burying his face in my shirt.

I smoothed out the paper to see what the drama was about.

It was a sketch of a faceless woman titled: The Substitute Mom.

My heart stopped as I read the scribbles underneath.

"Daddy said she is the backup."

"She does the chores but gets no wages."

"The Real Mom is responsible for being beautiful and guarding the treasury."

My fingertips turned ice-cold against the paper.

My mate, Ethan, had just returned from a patrol.

He kissed my forehead.

"What did our pup draw?"

The next second, his smile froze when he saw the content.

His voice tightened, and he reached out to snatch the book.

"He watches too many cartoons! He's writing nonsense!"

I stared at the man I had shared a den with for seven years.

He looked like a stranger now.

If I was the substitute.

Who was this beautiful real mother?

And where had my true son been all these years?

...

"Elena, what are you thinking about?"

Ethan waved his hand in front of my face, his tone holding its usual affection.

"Today is our seventh anniversary. Did you prepare a surprise for me?"

His eyes crinkled as he skillfully dodged the subject.

I looked at him in silence for a long time.

Then, I pulled a velvet box from the deepest drawer and handed it to him.

He took it with delight and opened it.

Inside was a tie clip he had been wanting for a long time.

"It's sick! Your taste is always impeccable, my love!"

He pulled me into his side and kissed my cheek.

"Help me put it on?"

I picked up the clip and fastened it for him.

For seven years, I had never missed a gift for any important occasion.

He, however, rarely put effort into these details.

I used to think it was just his personality.

He was an Alpha, dominant and rough around the edges.

But my pup's drawing said:

[Daddy loves giving gifts to the Real mother. He says only true love gets rituals.]

A child's innocent words now acted like a dull knife, carving into my heart piece by piece.

It wasn't that he was bad at expressing himself.

His heart had simply never belonged to me.

"Ethan..."

I struggled to speak, the words heavy on my tongue.

"Is... is there something you're hiding from me?"

Ethan's body stiffened.

He turned around, his face twisting with impatience.

"Elena, are you tripping?"

"Don't forget, Sam is only five. You can't take a pup's scribbles seriously!"

I wanted to say more, but he had already walked back into the bedroom.

Watching his retreating back, I realized for the first time how distant our seven-year bond really was.

Late into the night, the wolf beside me was fast asleep.

But the drawing, Ethan's stiff smile... they filled my mind, keeping me awake.

I quietly got up and walked out of the bedroom without a sound.

The door to his study was ajar.

It was Ethan's forbidden territory.

He hated me disturbing him there.

For seven years, I had respected his privacy.

But tonight, guided by the Moon Goddess, I pushed the door open.

I searched every corner, looking for a clue.

I found nothing.

I straightened up, my eyes landing on the centerpiece on his desk.

It was a photo frame of our family pack.

Sam was in Ethan's arms, and I was leaning against him, smiling happily.

Anyone would think we were a loving family.

I picked up the frame, my fingers brushing over the smiling faces of my mate and son.

Maybe I was overthinking?

Was I really doubting my mate because of a five-year-old's drawing?

Guilt and shame washed over me.

I sighed, preparing to put the frame back.

Just as I tried to convince myself, the base of the frame felt loose.

I tried to straighten it, but my fingers slipped.

"Crash!"

The frame slipped from my hand.

I hurriedly bent down to pick it up.

But as I lifted it, I froze in place.