Chapter 3

Lena POV

I don’t know how long I stayed sitting on the ground for before I forced myself to my feet again.

Rejection from my own child was worse than a knife being stabbed through my heart.

Every time I tried to shift our dynamic, his rejection only grew worse. His eyes grew harder, his voice sharper as he hurried threats and insults at me. Sometimes he was just like his father in the worst way.

Now with Celeste constantly interrupting us by being her usual perfect and adored self, I had no strength left to fight.

I pressed a trembling hand to my face, trying to stop the tears that kept pricking at the corners of my eyes.

My heart hurt horribly but I couldn’t let Noah see me like this.

When the door to the kitchen creaked open, little footsteps shuffled across the floor toward me. Swiping my hand across my cheeks a few times, I quickly straightened and turned around, finding Noah standing there right behind me.

He hesitated, then got close enough to tug gently at my sleeve. “I’m sorry, Miss Lena. Don’t be sad. Even though you’re kind of useless… you don’t do too bad around here. My mom is really nice, you should try getting along with her. Once she marries into the family, she’ll be good to you too.”

It was cruel.

Crueler than anything Damon had ever said to me when we were together.

I could endure Damon’s rejection. I could swallow the humiliation, grit my teeth through every scornful glance, bury my heart when he told me I was useless and nothing more than a mistake he made when he was young and reckless.

But to hear it from Noah… that broke me in ways I never thought were possible.

I forced a smile for him, though my lips trembled. “I see… thank you for telling me.”

He beamed. “You’re welcome, Miss Lena!”

By the time Damon and Celeste returned back to the main house, Noah had already fallen asleep in my arms up in his room.

For those stolen minutes, he was only mine. Not the Alpha’s heir, not a child destined to be raised under the eyes of nobles and warriors.

Just my little boy.

I pulled the door closed with painstaking care, the latch catching with the faintest click. But before I could even take a full step away, movement in the dim hallway caught my eye.

Damon.

He stood just outside the doorway, broad shoulders tense. A glass bottle was clutched in his hand, his grip so tight that his knuckles had whitened. His expression was dark. “You didn’t give this to him?”

My mouth opened, realizing what he was holding wasn’t just any random glass bottle but the one with medicine for Noah’s fever.

Shit.

“He refused. I didn’t want to force him to drink it.”

“You should have tried harder,” Damon snapped. His voice was hard and unyielding, the exact same tone he always used when disciplining disobedient subordinates.

Celeste stepped into view then, her golden hair catching the glow of the sconces along the wall, her delicate features arranged into a mask of gentle disapproval.

“Honestly, Damon… she’s useless. Leaving something this important to an Omega nanny? No wonder Noah isn’t improving.”

My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into skin. It was the only anchor I had against the overwhelming urge to break down right there in front of them.

She brushed past me, her perfume trailing behind her like a flag of victory. My breath caught as she moved closer to Noah’s bedroom door, her fingers curling around the knob. She twisted it, pushing it open with a flourish as though it was her child on the other side of that door.

“I—he just fell asleep—” I said quickly, panic rising in my throat.

Noah had finally settled after hours of fussing and I knew how fragile his rest could be when he felt sick. I’d taken care of him enough times as a baby to know that but Celeste didn’t so much as glance at me.Without hesitation, she stepped inside.

“Sweetheart?” Celeste called out. She closed the distance to his bed, skirts brushing the floor as she perched on the edge of the mattress.

Noah stirred at the sound of her voice and rolled onto his back, lashes fluttering open. His bleary eyes blinked once, twice, and then softened when they landed on her. “Mmm…”

The ache in my chest grew deeper.

Celeste reached up, her hand moving with practiced familiarity, to run her fingers through his hair. I wanted to scream… to shout that she had no right to touch him that way when I rarely got to.

“Sit up, sweetheart,” she coaxed. “You need to take some of this medicine.”

His small voice came out thick with sleep, grumpy. “Don’t wanna…”

“But if you take your medicine like a good boy, Noah,” she said, leaning close enough for her nose to brush against his. “I’ll teach you how to recognize the herbs used to make it. Just like my mother taught me. Isn’t that something you’ve been asking to learn lately?”

The shift in his expression was immediate. His eyes lit up, wide and bright, banishing all traces of reluctance. His small body leaned toward her, hungry for the knowledge she dangled.

“Really? You will?”

Celeste’s smile spread. “Of course. Anything for my sweet boy.”

The words pierced straight through me.

My boy.

Noah shot upright, all his earlier weariness forgotten. He gulped the bitter liquid she measured into a cup without a word of protest, his lips puckering before breaking into a satisfied grin.

I stared at him, at her, at the image they made together sharing a moment of gentle intimacy.

Because they looked perfect.

I stood frozen, invisible, as she began laying out leaves and dried herbs she carried in a little pouch at her side. Noah leaned eagerly against her, hanging on every word.

“This one,” Celeste said, holding up a sprig of dried root, “is feverfew. It’s good for curing stomach pains.”

I frowned. Feverfew wasn’t for stomach pains, it was used to reduce fevers and treat headaches. I knew this, remembered the lessons from years ago before everything had been stripped from me.

“Actually,” I said quietly, unable to stop myself, “that’s not for stomach pains. It’s for fever. For headaches.”

The room went silent.

Noah turned, his little brows furrowed. “She didn’t ask you. What do you know anyway? You’re just a nanny.”

His voice was sharp, cruel in its childish honesty. Celeste’s lips curved in a satisfied smile, though she quickly masked it with a look of concern.

As I turned to move out of the doorway, away from the domestic scene laid out in front of me, I stopped short when I saw Damon standing close by. He was watching me, his jaw tightening at how close we’d suddenly gotten.

“Don’t act like you know everything, Lena,” he said flatly. “Let Celeste handle this.”

The words hit harder than any blow.

He moved around me to head inside the room.

I looked at them then, huddled together on Noah’s bed as Celeste went back to teaching him. They looked like a real family.

The one I should have had.

The one that had been stolen from me.

I turned away before the tears could fall, excusing myself with a stiff bow.

I walked until my feet carried me to the only place I still felt some fragment of safety: Maya’s little cottage at the edge of the Pack’s grounds.

She opened the door before I could knock twice, her sharp eyes scanning my face. “Oh no… What happened this time?”

Tears spilled freely as I stumbled inside, collapsing onto the wooden chair by the hearth. The warmth from the heat wrapped around me but my body still felt cold. Like ice had been lodged in my chest.

My words came out choked and bitter. “They called me useless again in front of Noah. Celeste… she mocked me. And Damon sided with her like usual.”

She sighed. “That arrogant bastard.”

After putting on a kettle, she came to join me by the hearth.

I shook my head, tears dripping into my lap. “Noah believes her. That I’m useless. He said it right to my face. He’s never going to see me as his mother.”

Maya came to me, kneeling so her eyes met mine. “Lena, listen to me. You are not useless. You once had an incredible gift. Do you remember? You were training to become a world-renowned Healer.”