Second Chance For The Broken Luna

Krista

I watched from a distance as Greta chased after her three boys, her voice carrying on the wind, strained and full of exhaustion. They were darting in every direction, little whirlwinds of energy, their laughter ringing out in the warm afternoon air. It was a familiar scene, one that made me ache with something I didn’t want to name. I smiled despite myself, the sight of Greta's swollen belly and her frantic attempts to wrangle her sons filling me with a bittersweet longing.

“Come back here this instant!” she cried, a hand resting on her lower back as she tried to waddle after them. The boys were having none of it, of course. They squealed and darted behind a bush, then reappeared just as quickly, tiny feet kicking up dust as they dodged around her.

I quickened my steps, my heart warming at the sight of them. Greta’s eyes lit up with relief when she spotted me approaching, and I could see the gratitude in her gaze. I knew it wasn’t easy for her, carrying a child while her mate was away on a scouting mission. Bennett had been gone for weeks now, and though the pack tried to help where we could, there was no substitute for the presence of a mate. Greta was a strong woman, but even the strongest of us all could use a little extra support.

“Auntie Krista!” The boys’ voices were high and jubilant as they rushed toward me, their small hands reaching out eagerly. They all talked at once, clamoring for attention.

“What did you bring us?” the eldest, Emmett, asked, his eyes bright with expectation.

“Yes! What’s in your pockets, Auntie?” the middle one, Theo, chimed in, nearly bouncing with excitement.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Calm down, boys, calm down,” I said, holding up my hands in mock surrender. “I’ve got something for each of you, but only if you promise to be good for your mother and give her a break.”

They nodded furiously, little faces solemn as they made their vows, though I knew it was probably a promise they’d struggle to keep. Still, I reached into my pockets and pulled out the candies I’d brought, handing them out one by one.

“Thank you, Auntie Krista!” the youngest, Oliver, said, his voice sweet and sincere as he clutched his treat.

“Now, what did I say about behaving?” I reminded them gently, raising an eyebrow.

They chorused a hasty, “We promise!” before scurrying off, their excitement bubbling over as they compared the flavors they’d received. I watched them go, my heart tightening with a mix of affection and sadness.

Greta let out a long sigh, lowering herself into a nearby chair with a groan. “Thank the Goddess you came when you did,” she said, a wry smile on her lips. “I thought I was going to lose my mind with them today. And this one—” she patted her belly, “—he’s been kicking up a storm. I can’t wait to have him out.”

I smiled as I sat beside her, listening to her talk about the baby. She had that glow about her that pregnant women often did, a mix of exhaustion and joy, her cheeks flushed from exertion. For a moment, I could almost imagine what it would be like to have a child of my own, a little one to care for, to hold close. I pushed the thought away as soon as it surfaced.

“I don’t know how you do it,” I said softly. “You’re amazing, Greta. I can’t even imagine managing three boys and being pregnant on top of it.”

She snorted, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, please, don’t flatter me, Luna. If it wasn’t for all the help I’ve been getting, I’d probably be in the river by now, trying to drown myself for some peace.”

I laughed, but the sound felt hollow in my chest. I wanted to say something more, something to reassure her, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I reached out and placed a hand over hers, squeezing gently.

“You’re stronger than you think,” I murmured. “Bennett will be back soon, and then you’ll have him to help with the boys.”

“I hope so,” she said, leaning back and closing her eyes for a moment. Then, she cracked one open, peering at me with a sly smile. “But you know what I was thinking? It should be you out here, chasing after little ones with your own swollen belly. You and Alpha Jacob would have such beautiful pups.”

I froze, my heart lurching in my chest. The smile I tried to give her felt brittle, like it would shatter at the slightest touch. “Oh, Greta…”

“No, really!” she insisted, her face bright with sincerity. “I mean, look at you. And Jacob—he’s so handsome, and you’re both so strong. The pack would be overjoyed to have little heirs running around.”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. If only she knew. If only she knew how desperately I’d wanted that, how many nights I’d lain awake, aching for the family that Jacob and I would never have. If she knew how cold and distant he was, how he couldn’t even look at me some days without that shadow crossing his face—the one that spoke of regret and longing for someone else—she’d never suggest such a thing.

“We’ll see,” I said lightly, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Maybe someday.”

Greta frowned, sensing the shift in my mood. She reached out, her fingers brushing my arm. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” I cut in quickly, shaking my head. “Really, it’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine at all. I glanced away, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. I couldn’t cry here, not now. I couldn’t let Greta see how fragile I felt, couldn’t let her guess at the turmoil that roiled beneath the surface. She was sweet, but she had a tendency to gossip, and the last thing the pack needed was rumors about their Alpha and Luna.

I took a deep breath, trying to push the emotions down, bury them where they wouldn’t hurt so much. “How about I help you get the boys ready for their afternoon siesta?” I suggested, forcing a smile. “Give you a little break?”

Greta’s eyes softened, her gratitude shining through. “You’re too good to me, Luna Krista. Really, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I shrugged, rising to my feet and offering her a hand. “It’s nothing. Just let me help.”

But as I busied myself with rounding up the boys and settling them for their nap, I couldn’t shake the heaviness in my heart. I’d given so much to this pack, to Jacob, and it was never enough. It would never be enough.

I would always be just the stand-in, the woman who had taken another’s place. And as much as I tried to convince myself otherwise, the truth was clear: there would be no children for us, no family to call my own. Not as long as Jacob’s heart belonged to someone else.

And that, more than anything, was the pain I would carry with me tonight, as I laid my head down on a pillow that still felt too cold beside me, wondering what I had to do to finally be enough.

It was already late afternoon by the time Greta’s boys were finally settled, their laughter quieted into soft, sleepy breaths. Greta insisted I stay for a cup of tea, her eyes pleading with an unspoken apology, and though every fiber of my being wanted to decline, I couldn’t bring myself to refuse her. I could see the worry still etched across her face, the regret in the lines around her mouth. She was worried she had hurt me with her words, and in truth, she had, but it wasn’t her fault.

So, I accepted the tea, cradling the warm cup between my hands as I settled back into her small kitchen. Greta was never one to hold back when it came to gossip, and as she chattered away, the scent of chamomile filling the room, I let myself get lost in the flow of her words.

“You wouldn’t believe what I heard yesterday,” she said, leaning forward conspiratorially, her voice dropping to a whisper even though we were alone. “Elara caught Colin and that little fox shifter girl from the neighboring town behind the butcher’s shop. Naked, can you imagine?”

My eyes widened, and I clapped a hand over my mouth. “No! Colin and… what’s her name again? The one with the red hair?”

“Cora,” Greta supplied, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, her! And you know Elara, she made such a fuss. Colin’s been banned from seeing Cora, of course, but I don’t think that’ll stop them. I heard they’re planning to run off together. Can you believe it?”

I gasped, letting myself play into the theatrics of it. “No, really? Cora’s only just shifted for the first time, she’s barely more than a pup herself! What does she see in Colin?”

Greta snorted, rolling her eyes. “Oh, who knows? Young love is always foolish. But if you ask me, it’s not going to last. Colin’s got too much of a wandering eye.”

I shook my head, pretending to be scandalized, though the stories were only a distraction, a way to keep the awkwardness at bay. Greta moved on quickly, relishing in her role as the pack’s unofficial news bearer.