RayneMorning crept in through the blinds like a soft ache behind my eyes. The light wasn’t harsh—more like a warm haze—but it still made my head pound a little harder.I blinked against it, letting my eyes adjust, waiting for the room to settle back into focus.And when it did, I saw him.Reed.Curled up in the plastic chair beside my bed like he’d been there all night. Elbows propped on the edge of the mattress, chin resting on his arms, staring at me with wide, worried eyes.There was no anger in his expression.No hurt. No distance.Just relief.And love.Like the night before had never happened. Like he hadn’t stood in the hallway with fire in his eyes and divorce in his mouth.“Hey,” he said softly, sitting up straighter when he saw my eyes open. “You’re awake.”“Yeah,” I croaked, my voice still raw. “Barely.”His face lit up. “Thank the goddess.”Before I could say anything else, he was fussing—reaching for the cup of water by the bed, checking the blanket, fluffing my pillow l
Rayne I looked at him.He smiled.He meant it. That was the worst part.It wasn’t a figure of speech.It wasn’t even romantic.It was... unsettling.But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to turn the moment into another fight. Not when we were just starting to breathe again.Reed seemed to sense my unease because he shifted, his tone softer now.“I’ve been struggling, Rayne. A lot more than I wanted to admit. Being Luna isn’t easy. People expect perfection. Strength. Confidence. And I—I’ve been so damn insecure lately. Every time I see you drift or pull back, it feels like I’m losing you.”I stayed quiet, letting him speak.“That’s why I said what I said. I was overwhelmed. But I shouldn’t have dumped it all on you. I shouldn’t have scared you with the divorce threat. That was... extreme. And manipulative. I know that now.”He took a deep breath.“I’m sorry. Truly.”I nodded slowly.“I swear, if I ever feel that way again, I’ll talk to you. We’ll figure it out together. No more thr
AmberIt’s official.The Moon Goddess is a sadistic bitch. There’s absolutely no changing my mind about that.I don’t care how sacred she’s supposed to be. Or how many songs were written about her “divine will.” Screw all of it.It’s the only explanation for why I keep getting dealt such a shitty hand. Again. And again. And again.I had just finished my rounds, clipboard tucked under one arm, my head pounding faintly from hours on my feet. All I wanted was to return to my office, throw back the last of the cold coffee waiting on my desk, and finally breathe.But no.Apparently, peace wasn’t part of the divine plan for me.Because just as I turned the corner past the nurses’ station, I froze.Dead in my tracks.There they were.Rayne and Reed.Reed was pushing Rayne’s wheelchair down the hallway slowly, talking animatedly about something I couldn’t hear. His hands were light on the handles, careful and gentle. Rayne sat back, bandaged and pale, but with that same stupid soft look he alw
RayneOne, two, three, four… Eight weeks.It took just over eight painful, frustrating, mind-numbing weeks to feel human again.Which was ridiculous considering how fast wolves were supposed to heal.But even with accelerated recovery, nothing about this process had been easy. The surgery had left me weak and sore for weeks. My abdomen still pulled uncomfortably when I bent the wrong way. The cast on my leg had only come off a few days ago, but the real hell was physical therapy.The fracture itself had healed—technically. But regaining full function, learning to walk without stiffness, without pain, without limping? That was the real battle.I’d had to use crutches for the first three weeks post-op, even as my wolf protested the entire time. Eden hated the helplessness. Hated the weakness. Hated the slow, humiliating pace of everything.But I did it.Because I had to.Because Reed showed up to every session. Pushed me through the frustration. Carried the parts of me that couldn’t car
RayneReed busied himself tucking my discharge folder into his messenger bag, still humming to himself with uncontainable excitement. He was already planning which takeout we’d order tonight, how he’d light candles in the bedroom and sprinkle rose petals on the floor and bed, make it “romantic but relaxing,” his words.But even as I smiled and nodded, there was something clawing at me from the inside.I couldn’t leave without saying thank you.To her.Amber.It didn’t make sense. She’d made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with me—and I respected that. But I couldn’t walk out of this hospital and pretend like she hadn’t saved my life. Like she hadn’t stitched me back together with those tiny, fierce hands of hers.I owed her something. A thank you. That’s all.Just closure.A gesture.Nothing more.“Hey,” I said, interrupting Reed mid-sentence. “Can you do me a favor and go pull the car around? I don’t want to be limping through the parking lot for an hour.”Reed looked up.
AmberFor the most part, I’d done a pretty good job pretending Rayne Hunter didn’t exist.Which was ironic, considering he was recovering in the same hospital where I worked five days a week, twelve hours a day. But I guess that was the trick—if I kept moving, kept busy, kept my head buried in charts and scalpel reports and pre-op consults, I didn’t have time to remember that he was here too.And on the rare occasions when the thought of him did try to creep in—like during a lull between surgeries, or when I passed the room he used to occupy—I shoved it away. Mentally. Emotionally. I threw up a wall and walked the other direction.It wasn’t denial. Not really.It was survival.Eight weeks.That’s how long it had been since I stood over his body on the operating table and chose to save him. Since I stitched him back together, closed his wound, and handed him back to the man he loved.Eight weeks of silence. Of distance.And in those eight weeks, I hadn’t seen his face once.Partly beca
RayneI had the whole thing memorized.Every single word I planned to say to her.I even practiced my tone— respectful, measured. Not too soft, not too proud. I wasn’t here to dredge up the past. I wasn’t here to ask questions or start a conversation that would lead nowhere. I was here to do one thing.Say thank you.I owed her that.So here I was in front of her office door with a bouquet of lilies and soft pink tulips, buzzing with the kind of nervous energy I hadn’t felt since I was a kid. I didn’t even know if she’d accept the flowers. I just remembered she hated money being thrown at her—Goddess, that memory still made my gut twist—and I thought maybe something small and human would carry more weight.The words were ready.Thank you for saving my life. I’ll never forget it. You didn’t owe me anything, and you still chose to help.That was it. Nothing else. I even practiced how to hold the bouquet—softly, humbly, like it was a peace offering, not a bribe.But none of that mattered
RayneHer words stung.Not just because they were loud or furious, but because they were true.I stood frozen, every syllable she threw at me carving straight through the fog of my anger, slicing deeper than anything had in years.She’d gone through all of it alone.The pregnancy. The birth. The newborn stage.And where had I been?Not even aware it was happening.And that fact—the brutal, ugly reality—made something inside me buckle.Because everyone knew how dangerous and agonizing pregnancy could be for lone Omegas. Their bodies weren’t designed to handle the full term without an Alpha’s support. Without that steady stream of pheromones to ease the symptoms, reduce the pain, and protect both mother and child.Amber had survived it without me.Without the safety net I should have provided. Without the warmth of our bond. Without the chemical anchor that would’ve soothed her nerves and her body. I hadn't been there to calm her when the hormones hit like waves, when her skin hurt from
AmberI heard gasps. Felt every stare pierce through me.Robert didn’t wait.“And there you have it!” He announced triumphantly. “She admits it. Out of her own mouth. She denied a child her father. She let her grow up without the emotional support, the discipline, and the presence of a stable Alpha figure—because her pride was hurt. This wasn’t protection. It was punishment.”He stepped forward. “Miss Queen’s selfishness has already damaged this child. And now she wants the court to let her continue the damage unchecked? At what cost to Evalie’s development? Her future? Her identity?”I wanted to scream. To cry. To collapse and disappear.But Ichika squeezed my hand.I looked down. Her grip was firm. Unshakable. You’re not alone, it said.Robert sat back, oozing victory.Ina rose again.“Your Honor,” she said, her voice like flint, “I request permission to speak.”“Granted.”Ina faced the court like a queen facing her people.“Miss Queen had good reason to withhold Evalie’s identity f
AmberThe courtroom wasn’t what I expected.It was colder. Quieter. A looming silence, only broken by the shuffle of papers and the creak of benches as people took their seats. High ceilings. Fluorescent lighting. A lone judge perched behind the bench, half-obscured by the mahogany podium before him.We took our place on the left side of the room—Ina, Evalie, and I. Ichika, Ken and Ian sat quietly behind us, their presence a fortress of calm I didn’t know I’d need until this moment.Across the aisle sat Rayne and Reed.Rayne looked like stone, his jaw locked tight and his hands folded, knuckles white. Reed, by contrast, looked like he belonged in a different kind of arena—like he was auditioning for an award instead of preparing for legal war. That smug little smirk never left his face.I focused on Evalie, who sat quietly beside me with a coloring book Ichika had brought along to keep her busy. Her small hands moved the crayon slowly across the page, completely unaware of the storm g
AmberThe air felt heavier than usual this morning.I’d barely slept, caught between nerves and the ache behind my ribs that always came when Evalie clung to me in her sleep. Her tiny hand still rested over my stomach as I lay there for a moment longer, memorizing the shape of her breathing.Today, everything could change.I slipped out of bed carefully, tucking the blanket around her. Her blond curls splayed against the pillow, the same soft shade as Rayne’s. I pushed the thought away.The house was already buzzing. I could hear Ichika clinking something in the kitchen—probably forcing Ken to eat breakfast even though his stomach was just as twisted as mine.I went to the bathroom and stared at my reflection. I didn’t recognize the woman looking back. She looked…braver. Or maybe more resigned. I wasn’t sure which one I needed more.By the time I stepped back into the bedroom, Evalie was sitting up, rubbing her eyes.“Morning, pumpkin,” I said, keeping my voice light.Evalie blinked,
AmberEvalie blinked up at me, visibly confused, the way kids often get when something doesn’t click right away. Her little brows scrunched, and I could almost see her mind turning the words over like puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit—yet.I smiled gently and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.“You know how the other kids in your school have two parents?” I asked, voice soft, steady, though my heart pounded like a drum. “Well… that man from earlier—he’s your other parent. He’s your daddy.”She went very still.The silence that followed was thick. Not heavy exactly—just full. Like the air was holding its breath. I braced myself for her confusion, maybe even tears or questions I wasn’t ready to answer. My stomach clenched. I shouldn’t have waited so long. I should’ve told her sooner, eased her into it. But there was no going back now.Evalie’s lips parted slightly as she processed it… and then—without warning—her entire face lit up.“Really?” she whispered. “I have a daddy?”Be
AmberIt was happening. No more delays. No more hiding.Tomorrow at 10 a.m., I’d walk into that courtroom and face Rayne for the first time in seven years—not as a broken Omega begging for mercy, but as Evalie’s mother fighting for the right to keep her child safe.The weight of it settled over me like a thick, scratchy blanket I couldn’t shake off. After Reed’s impromptu and unpleasant visit last week, the house had been blessedly quiet. No more knocks on the door. No more unwelcome Alpha energy polluting my space. Just peace—and tension so sharp it made my spine ache.Still, I had done what needed to be done. I’d contacted Ina like Ian suggested.From the moment she heard the details of my case, Ina had been all in. It didn’t take much convincing. The second I mentioned Rayne’s name and the pack he was from, she was intrigued. When I explained what I’d been through—the assault, the threats, the power imbalance, and Evalie being the child in question—Ina’s voice grew tight with purpo
AmberReed’s face twisted with rage, eyes flashing like a cornered animal. I saw it— the mask crack. The real him bleeding through.“You slut,” he hissed, venom coating every syllable. “You fucking whore. You always were. Pretending to be some innocent little victim when you’ve been spreading your legs for whatever Alpha shows the slightest interest. Don’t act high and mighty with me.”I said nothing.“You think I don’t know how you got where you are?” He sneered, stepping closer. “You fucked your way through med school. Slept with the right people. Used that pathetic Omega allure of yours to get whatever you wanted. That’s what you do, isn’t it? It’s all you’re good for.”Still, I said nothing. But my hand was tightening on the doorframe so hard my nails were digging into the wood.He leaned forward, eyes dark. “You think this little war you’ve started is noble? That you’re some kind of martyr? You’re not. You’re just a selfish, bitter bitch who can’t handle the fact that she lost. R
AmberI had just gotten off the phone with another lawyer Ichika had managed to reach out to. So far? Things weren’t looking good.They acknowledged I had a solid case—on paper. But in reality, not many lawyers were willing to go up against the literal Alpha of the Pack. Alpha Rayne Hunter. The man had too much influence, too much reach. “It would be bad for business,” one of them said. “Dangerous even.” Another admitted, “Our reputation could suffer long-term if we cross the wrong people.”Their voices blended together into a nauseating chorus of fear and cowardice. It stung. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but the sheer number of rejections was exhausting. And the ones who did consider the case? They were even worse.There was one woman in particular—an Omega, like me. I’d thought that would make a difference. I’d thought she would understand. I don’t know what I expected—compassion, maybe? Solidarity? But what I got instead was gall.The nerve.She had the audacity to chastise me. To
AmberI didn't want Evalie to grow up without me, to ever think for a second that she was unloved and unwanted. I knew exactly what that felt like— I had been abandoned by my own father and brothers—and I would never wish it on my worst enemy.I squeezed my eyes shut, a sob ripping from my chest.This couldn’t happen.I couldn’t let it happen.I almost gave in to the panic, to the devastation — but then a warm, steady presence unfurled inside me, strong and unyielding.Irma.My wolf growled low in my chest, fierce and protective, wrapping around me like an unbreakable shield.“No,” she whispered, her voice a steady thrum in my head. “We are Evalie’s mother. We raised her. We protected her. He cannot take her from us.”She released bursts of endorphins and they washed over me like waves, calming me down and reminding me of happier times. I had flashes of truth — Evalie's little arms around my neck, her sweet giggles filling our home, her sleepy "I love you, Mummy" whispered against my
AmberRayne had been quiet since his abrupt visit, and it was unsettling.I wasn’t sure what I had expected after that day — maybe for him to show up at the hospital, lurking by the emergency entrance like some stubborn shadow. Maybe he'd camp outside the house, demanding to see Evalie. Maybe he'd blow up my phone with calls or texts, shouting accusations. I even thought he'd try to contact Evalie somehow.But he didn’t.Not a call.Not a visit.Nothing.Just silence.And while a small part of me was grateful for the peace, I knew better than to trust it. I knew it was too early to celebrate, too naive to hope that it was over.This — this eerie stillness — it felt like the proverbial calm before the storm.A heavy, loaded quiet that pressed against my chest like a hand waiting to shove me under when I least expected it.I tried to shake the feeling, tried to convince myself I was just being paranoid — that maybe Rayne had gotten the closure he needed. Maybe seeing Evalie, even from a