Found True Mate at Last

"Harmony, please," Grayson pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "Think about what you're doing."

My son's wails grew more frantic as Harmony clutched him against her chest, her fingers digging into his tiny body. The night wind whipped her hair across her face as she swayed dangerously on the balcony railing.

"I can't live like this anymore," she sobbed, her eyes wild with a madness that seemed almost calculated. "Either you choose me, or I have nothing left to live for."

I lunged forward again, my wolf howling inside me. "Give me my son!"

Grayson's arm shot out, blocking my path. "Stay back, Isabella. You're only making this worse."

"Worse?" I screamed, my voice breaking. "He's our baby!"

But Grayson wasn't looking at me. His eyes were fixed on Harmony, his face a mask of panic and... guilt? What was he guilty of?

"Harmony, I'm coming to get you," Grayson said, stepping carefully toward the railing. "Just hold on."

My son's cries pierced the night air as Harmony shifted her grip, holding him further away from her body. One hand slipped—

"No!" I screamed.

Time slowed to a horrifying crawl. My son slipped from Harmony's grasp. His tiny body arced through the air, his cries suddenly silenced by the rush of wind. I watched in disbelief as he plummeted toward the ground three stories below.

"LIAM!" My scream tore through the night as I shoved past Grayson and raced for the stairs.

I reached my son before anyone else. His tiny body lay crumpled on the concrete, blood pooling beneath his head. His chest rose and fell in shallow, irregular breaths.

"Help me!" I begged as Grayson finally reached us. "He's dying!"

I gathered my son into my arms, his body unnaturally still. Blood matted his dark hair—hair just like Grayson's.

"Please," I sobbed, looking up at Grayson. "Do something!"

Grayson knelt beside us, but his eyes weren't on our dying son. They were fixed on the balcony above where Harmony now sat, rocking back and forth.

"This is your fault," he growled, his Alpha tone vibrating through me. "If you hadn't confronted us—"

"My fault?" I choked on the words. "Our son is dying!"

"You caused this," he continued, his voice hardening. "Your jealousy, your accusations—look what it's done!"

Harmony appeared at the top of the stairs, her face streaked with tears. "Grayson, help me," she whimpered. "I can't... I can't be here right now. The trauma... my depression..."

Grayson immediately rose to his feet, abandoning us to rush to her side.

"Grayson!" I screamed after him. "Our son needs you!"

But he was already wrapping his arms around Harmony, murmuring soft reassurances into her hair as she sobbed dramatically against his chest.

---

Dr. Lydia Cross worked frantically over my son's tiny body, her hands moving with practiced precision. But I could see it in her eyes—the hopelessness, the knowledge that no amount of healing could save him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered finally, stepping back. "The internal injuries are too severe."

I clutched my son's lifeless body against my chest, rocking back and forth as the world collapsed around me. My wolf howled in anguish, the sound echoing through my mind but trapped in my throat.

"Isabella," Grayson's voice cut through my grief. He stood in the doorway, Harmony nowhere in sight. "We need to discuss arrangements."

I looked up at him through tear-blurred eyes. "Arrangements?"

"For the pack," he said, his voice flat. "For what happens next."

"I just lost our son," I whispered, disbelief coloring every word.

"And I'm sorry for that," he replied, though his eyes remained dry. "But the pack needs stability. I'll be marking Harmony as Luna within the week."

The floor seemed to tilt beneath me. "What?"

"It's what's best for everyone," he continued, as if discussing the weather rather than our child's death. "Your presence here only brings chaos, Isabella. Look at what happened today."

"Our son is dead," I said, my voice hollow.

"And if you hadn't provoked Harmony—"

"Stop." I cut him off, my grief crystallizing into something harder, colder. "Just stop."

I looked down at my son's peaceful face, then back at Grayson. For the first time, I truly saw him—not the mate I thought I had, but the stranger he really was.

"I want to bury him," I said quietly. "Then I'm leaving."

Grayson nodded, relief flickering across his features. "That's probably for the best."

As he turned to leave, I realized that the man I had loved—the father of my child—had never truly existed at all.