That was when she returned to Bellflower town with a four-year-old child. In Roan’s eyes, I had been nothing more than a placeholder for Tracy during her absence. But I had loved him deeply then, enough to mate with him despite knowing the truth. My miscarriage had been a silent warning—a child with Roan would never be good for either of us.
In our Golden Moon pack, Roan was the Alpha, strong and commanding. I, as his mate, was the Luna. Our bond was supposed to be sacred, a connection that transcended all others. Yet, here I was, adrift in a sea of disillusionment, my role as Luna feeling more like a hollow title than a cherished position.
After taking the medication prescribed by one of the pack's healers, I drifted into a deep sleep.
However, it didn't take long before I woke up. The sound of the door creaking open roused me in the middle of the night. As I struggled to shake off my sleepiness, I felt my mate's presence beside me. His hand reached out to stroke my hair gently.
“What did the healer say today?” he asked, his voice soft and soothing.
I caught a whiff of an unfamiliar wolf fragrance clinging to him—a she-wolf in particular. A pang of unease tightened in my chest, but I refused to acknowledge it. I turned my head slightly, evading his touch.
“Oh, nothing important,” I replied, forcing a smile that felt brittle. “Everything’s fine.”
The Alpha nodded, his expression a mask of concern mixed with something else—guilt, perhaps? “My position as an Alpha has been giving me a hectic schedule lately,” he said, his tone a bit too rushed. “I've been kept very busy.”
I could sense the lie behind his words, the weight of an unspoken truth hanging in the air between us. But instead of confronting him, I chose to bury my suspicions. Rolling over to face away from him, I murmured, “Maybe you should take a shower before going to bed.”
For a moment, he hesitated, as if contemplating whether to explain further. But he remained silent. I listened as he opened the bathroom door, the sound of water beginning to flow from the showerhead filling the quiet room. The soft trickling of the water was the only sound, mingling with my thoughts as I lay there, willing myself back into the refuge of sleep.