Soraya
Three words were about to change my life forever.
"Congratulations, Luna Soraya." Dr. Marcus slid the test results across his desk, a warm smile spreading across his face. He had just confirmed the happiest news of my life. For a heartbeat, I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move.
My fingers trembled as they reached for the paper, and my lips parted in a soft gasp.
"You mean I'm… I'm carrying his baby? I'm really…" Tears burned the back of my eyes.
"Yes, you are. Six weeks along." His eyes crinkled with genuine joy.
We did it! We're pregnant! Honey's voice exploded through my mind, my wolf practically howling with excitement. We're going to have a pup!
Who could blame her? Five years. Five years of putting my dreams on hold. Five years of raising Eleanor as my own while my womb stayed empty by choice. I pressed my hand to my mouth, but it was too late. A sob escaped, half laugh, half cry, as tears spilled down my cheeks.
I'd deliberately gotten an IUD after the wedding, pouring myself into caring for Eleanor instead. Jordan had needed me, and I'd devoted myself to him in every way that mattered.
But now…
"Thank you," I whispered. Joy burst through my chest like champagne bubbles as I jumped up from the chair, clutching the paper against my heart. "Thank you so much!"
"It's my pleasure. I'll see you in two weeks for your first official prenatal appointment." He stood, extending his hand.
I shook it, barely listening, my mind already racing ahead to paint pictures I'd dreamed of for so long. Jordan's face when I told him. The way his storm-gray eyes would soften, the way they only ever softened for Eleanor.
Would he finally pull me close, rest his hand on my belly, and smile that rare, devastating smile that had made me fall in love with him when I was twelve? The one I hadn't seen in five years, not since she left.
"A baby, Raya? Our baby?" He'd use my nickname, the one only he was allowed to say, because he alone knew how to make it sound like a prayer.
"Yes, Jordan. Ours."
And maybe, Goddess, maybe he'd finally say those words. Three simple words he'd never uttered in five years of marriage. Not on our wedding day. Not on our anniversaries. But I understood. He was still healing.
"I have a favor to ask of you, though." I pulled myself back to the present.
"Anything, Luna. Anything."
"Please don't tell him. I want to be the one to break the news."
The doctor made a gesture as if zipping his lips shut.
I practically floated out of Emerald Pack Hospital, my hand never leaving my belly. Five years of marriage to the Alpha, to my childhood best friend, and finally… finally, things might change.
We'd been married for five years now, since that fateful day that shattered his heart. I'd been his shoulder, his rock, his anchor through the storm that nearly destroyed him.
I quickened my pace toward the parking lot, where my driver, John, stood beside the black Mercedes, already holding the door open. His face creased into a smile when he saw my expression.
"Good news, Luna?" He helped me into the back seat before circling around to the driver's side.
"The best, John. The very best."
"I'm glad." He started the ignition, easing out of the parking lot. "The Alpha will be pleased."
Yes, I thought, settling into the leather seat as we merged into the evening traffic. This had to be a gift from the Moon Goddess herself, the best pre-birthday present I could imagine.
Jordan loved me, in his own way. Maybe this time, he would finally see me as the woman who truly loved him, not just as his best friend.
I'd make his favorite dish when he returned. Lamb stew with rosemary, the way his mother used to make it.
Magda's rejection had carved something cold and ruthless out of the warm boy I'd known. My Jordan had lost his smile the day she walked away, and the only time it ever surfaced now was when Eleanor climbed into his lap.
Jordan was my first love. I wasn't his. But I was patient. I'd waited for him. I was still waiting. Soon, he would reciprocate. Maybe the news of our baby would be the catalyst.
"Luna Soraya?" John's voice cut through my daydream. "Are you alright?"
"Oh, yes. I'm…" The words died on my lips as my eyes locked onto a particular white Ferrari three cars ahead, weaving through traffic with reckless confidence.
I would recognize that car anywhere.
"John." My voice came out sharper than I intended. "The white Ferrari up ahead. Is that…?"
"I see it, Luna." His gaze met mine through the rearview mirror, concern flickering across his features. "But the Alpha is in Silver Ridge Pack. Beta Ian confirmed it this morning."
I watched the white car disappear down Oakmont Street, my brows furrowing.
"You're certain? Ian spoke to Jordan today?"
"Yes, ma'am. Said the Alpha would return Friday evening as planned."
I sat back, my hand still pressed protectively to my belly. Maybe I'd imagined it. Pregnancy hormones already messing with my mind. How many white Ferraris could there be in Paradise Pack?
That's his car, Honey interrupted. I'd know his scent anywhere.
He's two hundred miles away. Ian has no reason to lie. I reminded her. You're being paranoid.
Still, unease prickled at the base of my spine as we drove through familiar streets toward home. Jordan had been distracted lately, but that had to be the pack business.
The demands of being Alpha were endless. Maybe he'd decided to surprise me and Eleanor. My sweet girl would be thrilled to see her father.
I pushed the thought away as we passed through the iron gates of the pack house. Home. The massive estate loomed ahead, all stone and glass and old-money elegance.
Even after five years as Luna, I still caught myself heading toward the side entrance like I used to as a child, back when I was just the Gamma's bastard daughter sneaking in to play with the future Alpha.
Sometimes, I still felt like an intruder here. The girl who'd gotten far luckier than she deserved.
"Thank you for today, John." I stepped out before he could circle around to open my door. "Take the rest of the evening off. Eleanor won't be home from school for another hour."
"Are you sure, Luna?"
"Positive. Spend some time with your mate. When was the last time you two had an evening alone?"
"You're too kind, Luna. Thank you." He bowed slightly before turning to leave.
I walked into the house, my footsteps echoing through the quiet foyer. Most of the staff had already finished for the day. I dropped my purse on the console table and headed straight for the kitchen, pulling out oranges and bananas from the fruit bowl. Those pregnancy craving videos on TikTok were already proving useful.
A smile tugged at my lips as I bit into an orange slice. My sweet girl would be over the moon when she found out she was getting a little brother or sister. Just last week, she'd been chattering about her friend's baby brother.
A sharp ringtone shattered my thoughts.
I spun toward the sound, grabbing my phone from the counter. When I saw the caller ID, ice-cold dread flooded my veins. My heart plummeted.
Stepmother.
"Hello, Mother." I pressed the phone to my ear, ignoring the tremor in my hand and the frantic thudding of my heart. Maybe she'd pocket-dialed me?
My stepmother wasn't exactly my biggest supporter. She hated me with a cold, unwavering consistency, and she'd never once tried to hide it. Not when my father brought me home at eight years old. Not on my birthdays. And certainly not when I married Jordan, even though he'd been my first crush long before my stepsister Magda read my diary and decided to claim him for herself.
I'd seen the disgust in her eyes during our few obligatory visits, when I brought Eleanor to meet Grammy. The way she pretended I didn't exist, even though Magda had been the one to abandon her daughter on a doorstep and vanish.
Some days, I wanted to slap Magda for shattering Jordan's heart and leaving their baby girl behind. Other days, I was grateful, because her cruelty had given me Eleanor and a chance to be Jordan's wife, even if I'd had to shelve my own dreams to do it. After all, he'd held my heart since we were children.
"You need to come home. Now." Her voice was flat. Cold. Emotionless. The same tone she'd used when she informed me that my bedroom would be in the servant quarters, in the attic, far from the main family rooms.
The words felt like glass shards tearing through my chest. She'd only called me twice in five years of marriage. Once to tell me my father had suffered a heart attack. The other was when Eleanor had fallen.
"What's wrong? Is Father…?"
"Your father is fine."
My breath hitched. I knew what she believed, even though she'd never spoken the accusation aloud. She thought Magda's disappearance was somehow my fault.
Her parting words from my wedding day echoed in my mind, sharp and unforgiving:
"For stealing your sister's mate while she was gone, I will never forgive you. Don't expect to hear from me again unless something terrible happens."
She'd kept that promise. Which meant something terrible had happened. My heart hammered against my ribs as I grabbed my car keys and bolted out of the house.