What Happens After My Delivery In The Book?

"Lara only has six months to live, Camille. Don’t be petty," my Alpha constantly reminded me. To fulfill his First Love’s dying wishes, Lucian gave her everything that belonged to me. He took her across the world to the places that were meant to be ours, and even handed her the wedding ceremony I had spent months planning. My own son, Rowan, clung to her, nuzzling the woman wearing my mother’s soul-stone. "Why can't Lara be my new mommy?" he asked, looking at me with resentment. In the Aurora Shadows pack, the home I bled for as a Luna, I had become a "lowly omega"—a ghost in my own kitchen. But the moment I signed those mating-severance papers and walked away with my violin, I didn't just leave a broken pack. I triggered an ancient prophecy of the Moon Goddess that had slept for centuries. When I return, I am no longer the humble breeder they threw aside. Now, the Alpha who once looked down on me grovels in the mud for a second chance, and the son who rejected me cries for a single look of mercy. I look down from my throne and smile: "You wanted her, Lucian? You have her. But you lost your Luna... and now, you face your Queen."

My husband came home on our anniversary with my best friend on his arm and divorce papers in his hand. He told the world I cheated. He took my name, and left me sleeping on the. streets with a secret I hadn't told anyone — his baby growing inside me. I had nothing. Until a great-aunt I barely knew left me a vineyard, an estate, and a second chance I didn't ask for. I was finally building something. A business. A life. A future for my child. What I didn't know was that I was surrounded by more enemies. The new man I was falling for had been sent to find me. And the man who divorced me was now fighting to get me back — because I had become the one thing he couldn't beat.

Bastien marries me only for duty. I reject him and leave for good by faking my death. Yet he goes crazy looking for me. He says he loves me when we meet again. No! I don't buy it. I can't let him steal my child! ** "She's not yours!" The front door was locked and deadbolted, but it only takes Bastien and his Betas a moment to break past those defenses. As Bastien towers in the doorway, his silver eyes glowing with barely contained fury, I realize it's all over. Everything I've worked for these past three years is already lost; every tear I've shed and sacrifice I've made has all been for nothing. I come to stand in front of my ex-husband. Goddess I’d forgotten how handsome he is; how tall. It doesn’t feel right to be so near him without our bodies touching; it takes all my strength not to reach out to him. “Hello Bastien.” Whatever he was expecting, it clearly wasn’t this. His silver eyes stop their hungry head-to-toe scan of my body, settling on my face and blinking in surprise. I can see the gears turning in his head, piecing together the puzzle of my presence here and replacing shock with confusion and anger. “Is that really all you have to say to me?” I cock my head to the side. “What would you have me say?” “I thought you were dead!” He barks, making my wolf tuck her tail between her legs. Unlike my wolf, I have more than enough bad memories and regrets to withstand his ire. “Oh I’m sorry, did my funeral get in the way of your wedding plans?”

At nine months pregnant, I was in the final stretch of my term, and my body heavy with a baby due any day. But my husband, Vito Falcone, underboss of the family, had locked me away. He held me in a sterile underground medical room and injected me with a labor suppressant. As I screamed in agony, he coldly told me to endure it. Because his brother's widow, Scarlett, was expected to go into labor at the exact same time. A blood oath he'd made with his late brother declared that the firstborn son would inherit the family's lucrative West Coast territory. "That inheritance belongs to Scarlett's child," he said. "With Daemon gone, she is utterly alone and destitute. You have my love, Alessia. All of it. I just need her to deliver safely. Then it's your turn." The drug was a constant, agonizing torment. I begged him to take me to a hospital. He grabbed me by the throat, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. "Stop the act! I know you're fine. You’re just trying to steal the inheritance." "To get ahead of Scarlett, you'll stop at nothing." My face was ashen. My body convulsed as I managed a desperate whisper. "The baby's coming. I don't care about the inheritance. I just love you, and I want our child to be born safely!" He sneered. "If you were really that innocent, if you had an ounce of love for me, you wouldn't have forced Scarlett to sign that prenup, waiving her child's inheritance rights." "Don't worry, I'll be back for you after she's given birth. you're carrying my own flesh and blood, after all." He kept a vigil outside Scarlett's delivery room all night. It was only after seeing the newborn in her arms that he remembered me. He finally sent his second in command, Marco, to release me. But when Marco finally called, his voice was shaking. "Boss... the missus and the baby... they're gone." In that moment, Vito Falcone shattered.

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

On my very first night working the overnight shift at the new hospital I've been transferred to, I run into my wife, Willow Jensen, who claimed she needed to be away on a year-long business trip. Now, she's lying on a gurney outside the delivery room, heavily pregnant, with blood pouring from beneath her. The man kneeling beside her grabs my hand tightly, his desperate pleas ringing in my ears. "Doctor, please! You have to save her!"