Faith’s Pov
You can call it stupidity, or maybe just a hopeless kind of love. But I agreed Even though I knew, deep down, it was going to tear me apart. Maybe it’s because when you truly love someone, you can’t stand to see them hurting. and that’s exactly what he looked like, deafeted and broken.
The minute the words left my lips, “I agree,” regret clawed at my throat. A heavy, bitter feeling. But at least now, I can live with the fact that I tried. I
tried and I failed.
I wanted to cry. My eyes burned with the urge. He pulled me into a hot, warming hug, his arms tight around me, and promised I wouldn’t regret it. He promised I wasn’t going to cry anymore. So I swallowed my tears,
determined to see him live up to that. I had to.
Unfortunately, the real world had other plans. Just moments after our quiet conversation. He was needed in the office.
Apparently, there had been an attack on another pack. I wasn’t really familiar with all the pack politics, but I’d heard him talking about these constant attacks. If he was worried, maybe I should be too. But for now, I didn’t want to think about it. My head already throbbed with a dull ache. I was just tired. Bone–weary tired. I couldn’t imagine doing anything right now, so I decided to go back to the house and maybe take a nap before I had to think about
dinner.
was halfway up the stairs, my thoughts still muddled with Astor’s pained face and his warm hug, when a small, young omega stumbled into the hallway, panting. Her eyes were wide with panic.
“Luna Faith!” she gasped, clutching her side. “There’s a problem… a big problem in the kitchen!”
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My heart sank a little further. Just what I needed. Ignoring my own exhaustion, I turned and followed her quickly, my mind already running through possible kitchen disasters. Burnt food? A fight over ingredients?
I genuinely hate the fact that they intentionally sometimes call me when it’s something stupid.
The moment I stepped into the pack house kitchen, chaos erupted around me. It wasn’t the usual busy hum of cooking; it was a loud, angry din. Women were gathered in a tight circle, their voices rising and falling. And in the middle of it all, standing like an enraged queen, was Alice. Her face was flushed, her hands on her flat belly, her eyes spitting fire.
“This is unacceptable!” Alice shrieked, her voice cutting through the noise. “How dare you give me this slop? I’m pregnant! My child needs proper nutrition, not this… this garbage!”
One of the cooks, a kind–faced woman named Clara, looked utterly defeated. “But Alice, this is what everyone is eating. It’s the best we could do with what we have tonight.”
Alice scoffed, tossing her head so her long, dark hair whipped around her shoulders. “I don’t care what everyone else is eating! My baby is special! My baby deserves better!” She pointed a dramatic finger at Clara. “And before you ask any more stupid questions, I’ll tell you who the father is, so you know just how special this baby is!”
She looked at me with a look of Triumph and Victory before doing exactly what I anticipated she was going to do.
My breath hitched. A cold dread seeped into my veins. The women in the kitchen, who had been asking Alice questions, suddenly fell silent. Their eyes darted from Alice to me, then back to Alice, a strange, knowing glint in them. Alice’s gaze swept over the stunned faces, finally landing on mine, a smirk twisting her lips. “The father of my child, she announced, her voice booming
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with triumph, “is Astor”
My heart, already bruised, shattered even more. I don’t think it will ever stop hurting a breaking and that’s the most painful part. The air left my lungs in a painful rush. Her words echoed in the sudden, crushing silence.
I felt a sharp, icy sting, like a thousand tiny needles piercing my skin. Humiliation, hot and searing, washed over me, then quickly froze my insides. Every single woman in that kitchen stared at me. Their faces, usually filled with indifference, now held a mix of pity and what looked suspiciously like satisfaction. They were enjoying every second of ty
And then, as if on cue, they turned away from me. One by one, their faces softened as they looked at Alice. Whispers started, not of anger at Alice, but of comfort. “Oh, Alice, dear!” “How wonderful!” “You poor thing, let us help
you!”
A wave of women surged forward, embracing Alice. They hugged her, patted her belly, offered words of support and congratulations. Their smiles were wide, genuine. For them. Not for me. They practically formed a wall between Alice and me, their backs to me, shutting me out completely.
My heart ripped open. It was a physical pain, like a fist squeezing my chest. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of mocking eyes and joyful whispers that weren’t for me. Astor’s promise – you won’t cry anymore- rang in my ears, a cruel joke. My eyes burned again, but I wouldn’t let the tears fall. Not here.
Not now.
I sucked in a shaky breath, forcing my shoulders back, my chin up. The “problem” the omega had rushed to tell me about? It wasn’t the food. It was this. This public, brutal announcement. But I couldn’t show my heartbreak. Not to them. I was the Luna, even if they didn’t want me.
“Clara,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady, though it felt like shards of glass in my throat. I pushed past the joyful throng, ignoring their cold stares and
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averted faces. “What seems to be the actual issue with the food? Can we
quickly find a solution?” I focused on the problem, the actual, solvable problem. It was the only way to breathe. The only way to survive.
cphakathi28
#vote#
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