Too Late: My Mate Begged Me Back After I Was Gone
When I became the blood bank for my mate Alpha Kane’s sweetheart, my wolf died from the endless loss of blood—and so did I, alone, in the cold den he rented to keep me out of sight.
Today marks the third day since my death, and finally, my six-year-old pup noticed something was wrong.
His finger bled when a toy hurt him, but I didn’t come to comfort him.
When he tried to feed me his favorite food, I didn’t stop him either.
He lay on my chest, gripping my clothes and whispering my name—but I didn’t respond.
Desperate and helpless, my pup picked up my cellphone and called his alpha dad.
“Dad, why is Mom still sleeping?”
Kane didn’t answer. Instead, he sent him a photo of himself and Serena—his sweetheart—celebrating Full Moon Day, smirking.
“Don’t worry. Your mom is just sleeping, not dead. You know I’m quite busy on Full Moon Day.
Tell your arrogant and stubborn mom not to come find me until she admits her fault.”
The call ended, leaving my pup frozen in silence.
However, three days later, Kane received news of my death. He let out a gut-wrenching growl, refusing to believe it was true.
Clutching my cold, lifeless body in his arms, he wept bitterly.
“Kate… you are my only Luna,” he cried. “Come back. Stay with me… please.”