Chapter 3
Blake’s expression darkened for a split second-before twisting into a cold, mocking laugh.
“Lena, you’ll stoop to any lie, won’t you? Just because you found out about Hannah’s pregnancy today, you’re spinning
this kind of tale?”
He pushed off the bed, striding toward the door without another glance.
But as his hand touched the doorknob, he paused.
“You’re the one who refuses to share my bed. Don’t go whining to Grandpa about neglect-it only makes me despise you
more.”
Then he was gone.
The room plunged into silence.
I stumbled into the bathroom, scrubbing my lips raw with toothpaste, desperate to erase the lingering taste of him.
Once, Blake and I had loved each other.
On my eighteenth birthday, when my wolf awakened, we found each other at the Mate Gathering. I still remember the way
he looked at me-golden eyes bright with joy, his voice warm as summer.
“Mate. You’re my mate.”
Those were the sweetest days with Blake. Though I had been part of the Whitemoon Pack for years, the ache of losing
my birth family always lingered like a shadow, keeping me from fully belonging-until him. Until Blake.
His gaze, warm as summer honey and just as golden, held a love so certain it seared through every lingering doubt.
In those quiet moments between heartbeats, I knew-my soul had found its true home at last. The Whitemoon Pack
wasn’t just a refuge anymore; it was the soil where my roots would grow deep, where my story would weave into its
legacy.
Even now, the memory of that happiness sends delicate tremors through me-like sunlight dancing on snow, fragile and
dazzling all at once.
For years after that, he adored me. I gave him everything in return.
Then, when we turned twenty-two, Miles called us before him.
“It’s time you two sealed the bond. Lena, your grandfather saved my life. And fate has already chosen you for Blake. It’s
perfect.”
That night, Blake’s love vanished like smoke.
No explanation. No goodbye.
Just coldness.
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A year after our mating ceremony, I became pregnant. And Blake?
He barely came back home except for those times he took that woman Hannah to bed in our own home.
I screamed. I begged. I demanded answers.
But he only ever looked at me like I was insane.
“You got what you wanted. You’re Luna. You bore my heirs. What more are you crying about?”
“Stop playing the victim. You disgust me. Hannah would never be so unreasonable like you.”
So I stopped asking.
I told myself that I could live with the fact that the love between Blake and me had gone. So cruel but true, that was how I
brought the inner peace back to my life.
I poured my love into our daughters instead. They were my light. My reason to endure.
Just when I thought I finally got a piece of control over my life. Hannah and Blake blew it all and they just wouldn’t spare
any mercy for us.
And now?
Now, even my daughters were gone.
The next morning, before the funeral.
I stood in front of the Packhouse, clutching in my hand my daughters’ favorite teddy bear-a tangible reminder of innocent
days filled with laughter and joy.
The girls were always fighting for this tattered teddy bear when they were just pups, and I find that I could still feel the lingering warmth of the girls on this teddy bear, as if their laughter and love had infused it with a comforting glow that
transcends time and stays here with me.
They had been so tiny at birth-two precious pups nestled in my arms.
How was it possible that five years later, they were gone like this?
My throat burned, but I clenched my jaw, refusing to let a single tear fall.
Sierra touched my shoulder gently. “Lena… it’s okay to cry.”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I turned to Miles, who stood by the black pack limousine, ready to escort us to the whitemoon
pack burial grounds.
“Alpha Miles,” I said softly, “the girls won’t be buried in pack territory. I’m changing their surnames. They aren’t Wilders
anymore. They’re Carringtons. My daughters.”
Miles’s face darkened with fury.
“Where is that damned brat?! How dare he miss his own daughters’ funeral?!”
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Sierra flinched. “His phone’s off. We… we can’t reach him.”
For a long moment, Miles simply breathed, his fists clenched. Then, at last, he met my eyes.
“You nearly died bringing them into this world. Do as you see fit.”
I bowed deeply, my gratitude silent but endless.
The pack had raised me. But my children owed them nothing.
I wouldn’t let them suffer even in death.
As Miles’s car pulled away, Sierra helped me to my feet. “Lena…” Her voice cracked. “Lena, please-”
I gave her a faint smile, then turned and hailed a taxi.
I needed to collect the girls’ belongings.
That house was no longer their home.
I wouldn’t leave them there.
But the moment I stepped inside, the sounds hit me like a physical blow.
Moans. Gasps. The creak of our bed.
“Faster-harder-”
“Wait, the healer said we have to be careful-the pup-”
My blood turned to ice.
Hannah’s voice.
And Blake’s.
Here.
Now.
While our daughters had just left this world in a miserable way.
