My Pup Died While His Father Played House

"What did you just call me?"

Damian Thornwood froze, the scent of the infirmary's remedies still clinging to him. Everyone said he was the most patient healer in the entire pack, the kind who could coax even the most stubborn pups. Now, facing his own pup, his expression was thunderous.

"Is this how you raised him? He won't even acknowledge his own father. How is he any different from a rogue?"

"He does call for you." I set the medicine down on the table and lined up the boxes one by one. "Last month, he called for you for 40 minutes outside the operating room until his voice was gone."

Damian swallowed hard and looked away, guilt written all over his face. "I didn't mean to. Erica couldn't be left alone, and besides, Noah's fine, isn't he?"

Then he carried in a box wrapped in blue paper and tied with a perfectly neat bow.

"Noah, look what I brought you. When Kyle got one of these, he was so happy he rolled around on the couch. I bet you'll love it too."

Our pup, Noah Thornwood, looked at the box, his eyes lighting up with anticipation. This was the first time his dad had ever given him such a pretty present.

He eagerly opened the box, and a jack-in-the-box wolf sprang out, its jaws gaping wide as it let out a shrill howl. Noah jerked backward, and the back of his head hit the edge of the bed. His small hand clutched at the scar on his chest, and his lips went white.

I lunged toward him. The lights on his heart monitor jumped wildly as one red alarm blared after another.

"Mommy… I feel like I'm gonna throw—"

Before he could finish, the half glass of milk he'd had that morning came up all over my sleeve.

Damian rushed over to hold him, his voice shaking. "How did this happen? Kyle played with it just fine…"

"Obviously! Kyle never had his chest cut open. He never had heart surgery."

I lifted Noah's head and wiped the vomit from the corner of his mouth with the back of my hand.

"The healer said no scares and no loud noises for three months. I told you that five times over the phone, but you were too busy with Erica and Kyle."

Damian's expression shifted several times before he spoke, full of apology. "I really couldn't get away back then. Erica's raising Kyle on her own, and her mate died for the pack."

Noah's school bag hung on the back of the chair, the gray recording wolf plushie poking half its head out. I pulled it out and pressed the round button on its belly.

There was a crackle of static, and then Damian's voice came through, soft and gentle. "Good boy, Kyle. Once you finish your medicine, it won't taste bitter anymore. I'll unwrap a candy for you."

A shewolf let out a soft laugh. It was Erica Stanhope. "You're here every day. What about Noah?"

"Kyle lost his father to the pack. He has to come first. Noah has his mom looking after him, so he'll be fine."

The recording stopped, and the only sound left in the room was Noah's ragged breathing.

We'd bought the little wolf at the summer fair last year, and Noah said he would record everything he wanted to tell his dad on it. In the end, this was the only thing saved on it.

Damian's face went pale, then flushed.

A month earlier, Noah had gone in for congenital heart surgery. The day before, Damian had promised him in person, "I'll be there with you tomorrow, no matter what."

That morning, Noah sat outside the operating room the whole time with his eyes fixed on the elevator. Every time the doors slid open, his face lit up.

"Mommy, Daddy always keeps his promises, right?"

But Damian never came. Five minutes before the surgery, he texted me.

"Kyle has a checkup today. Erica can't handle it on her own, so I'm going with him for a bit. Tell Noah to be brave. I'll be there soon."

Right before Noah went into the operating room, he took the little wolf out of his pocket and handed it to me. "Mommy, I'm a little scared. When Daddy gets here, can you help me record his voice? I want to hear him while I'm in my hospital room too."

It was a full day and night before Damian finally came back. He showed up in the hospital room, heard what Noah wanted, and took the little wolf, but just as he was about to record something, a call from Erica pulled him away again.

When Noah woke up from the anesthesia, he switched on the recorder and found nothing on it. He looked at me, crushed. "Mommy, does Daddy not want me anymore because I'm always sick? Is that why he'd rather be with some other pup?"

Now Damian switched off the recording, his voice hoarse. "You don't understand. Erica and I grew up together. She's all alone now, so of course I have to help. Cut me some slack here. I can't let Erica down."

"And your pup? You don't think he feels let down?"

His phone rang just then, Erica's name flashing on the screen. He shot me a guilty glance and answered.

"Damian, can you please come back? Kyle's throwing things again and crying for you. I'm afraid he's remembering how his dad died…"

The moment her voice cracked, Damian was on his feet without a second's hesitation. "Don't panic. I'll be right there."

Noah twitched in my arms, his small hand reaching blindly for the leg of Damian's pants. Damian looked down and brushed the hand away. Noah slid out of my arms onto the rug, his body jerking twice more.

Damian paused for half a second and glanced back. "Take care of him for now. I'll be back soon."

He grabbed his car keys and walked out, and the door shut behind him. The jack-in-the-box wolf was still bobbing on the rug, its red mouth stretched in a grin.

I gave Noah his medicine, holding a glass of water in one hand and rubbing his back with the other. His heartbeat gradually steadied, but his eyes stayed on the door.

"Mommy, did Daddy go to comfort someone else's pup again?"

"Yes."

"Mommy, I'll leave the pack with you. But can we see Daddy one last time?"

A few days earlier, I'd applied to the pack elders to leave the pack. They gave us 15 days to think it over, and now there were 11 left. It didn't seem like we needed to think about it anymore, though.

Once Noah fell asleep, I opened the notes app on my phone. Tomorrow was the day to pick up the moonstone from the infirmary, a rare stone known for healing the heart.

I'd been on the waiting list for two whole months, and once it did its work, it wouldn't be long before Noah was a healthy pup again.