My Mate Took Our Daughter’s Life-Saving Money

The next morning brought a humiliation I hadn't anticipated. When I entered the pack kitchen to prepare breakfast, three Omegas who had worked under my direction for years barely glanced my way. Sarah, who usually greeted me with warm smiles and updates about her children, busied herself with dishes that were already clean.

"Sarah, could you help me with the inventory reports today?" I asked, keeping my voice steady despite the purple bruise blooming across my cheek.

She didn't look up. "Sorry, Luna. Rachel asked me to help her with the new filing system."

The title felt hollow in her mouth, a courtesy extended out of habit rather than respect. I watched as she gathered her cleaning supplies and hurried out, avoiding eye contact entirely.

By noon, the pattern had become unmistakable. Pack members who had once sought my counsel now walked past me as if I were invisible. When I tried to review the weekly budget with Marcus, our treasurer, he shuffled uncomfortably and mumbled something about waiting for "new instructions."

Rachel had wasted no time establishing her authority. I found evidence of it everywhere—my desk in the pack office cleared of its usual paperwork, my access codes changed on the financial systems I'd managed for twenty years. She'd even rearranged the furniture, replacing my practical filing cabinets with decorative plants and a vanity mirror.

The final blow came when I approached a group of younger pack members discussing patrol schedules. They fell silent as I neared, their expressions ranging from embarrassment to outright disdain.

"We're following Rachel's new rotation," one of them said, his tone carefully neutral. "She says the old system was... inefficient."

Inefficient. The system that had kept our borders secure for two decades, that had maximized our limited resources and maintained pack morale through careful scheduling. Now dismissed with a single word.

I retreated to my room, my face burning with shame. Through the window, I could see Rachel holding court in the garden, surrounded by pack members hanging on her every word. She wore a flowing dress that caught the sunlight, her blonde hair perfectly styled, her laugh carrying on the breeze like music.

Everything I wasn't. Everything Jackson apparently wanted.

The investigation, I reminded myself. Olivia had said weeks, possibly months. I could endure this. I had to.

But as the days passed, my resolve began to crack. Rachel's influence spread like poison through the pack hierarchy. She appointed her own advisors, mostly young males who seemed more interested in her attention than pack welfare. The financial reports I'd meticulously maintained for years were replaced with vague summaries that hid more than they revealed.

I tried to focus on Lily, spending more time helping her with schoolwork and reading her favorite stories. But even that sanctuary was invaded when Noah complained loudly at dinner that his mother was "always hovering" and making him look weak in front of his friends.

Jackson said nothing, but his satisfied smirk spoke volumes.

Two weeks after Rachel's arrival, I was jolted awake by Lily's scream.

She was sitting upright in bed, both hands pressed to her chest, her face contorted in agony. Her lips had a blue tinge that sent ice through my veins.

"Lily! Baby, what's wrong?"

"It hurts," she gasped, her voice barely audible. "Mommy, it hurts so much."

I gathered her in my arms, feeling how her small body trembled with each labored breath. Her heart was racing erratically against my palm, skipping beats in a pattern that terrified me.

"We need to get you to the hospital," I said, trying to keep panic from my voice.

But as I stood, Lily went limp in my arms. Her eyes rolled back, showing only whites, and her breathing became shallow and rapid.

"Jackson!" I screamed, running toward his room. "Jackson, help me!"

I burst through his door to find him tangled in sheets with Rachel, both of them naked and startled. Rachel shrieked and pulled a pillow over herself while Jackson sat up, his face flushed with anger and embarrassment.

"What the hell, Raye—"

"It's Lily," I sobbed, holding my unconscious daughter. "Something's wrong with her heart. She needs a doctor now."

Jackson's expression shifted as he took in Lily's pale, lifeless appearance. For a moment, I saw genuine concern flicker in his eyes—the man I'd once loved, the father who had held this same child as a newborn.

But Rachel's voice cut through the moment like a blade. "Really, Jackson, she's always being dramatic about that child's condition. It's probably just another episode."

The concern vanished from his face, replaced by cold irritation. "Get out, Raye. We'll deal with this in the morning."

"She's unconscious!" I screamed. "Look at her! She could be dying!"

"Then maybe you should have thought about that before questioning my decisions about the surgery money," he said, his voice deadly calm.

The cruelty of it stole my breath. I stared at him, this man who had fathered my children, who had once promised to protect our family. Rachel watched with satisfaction, as if my daughter's suffering was entertainment.

"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I'm begging you. Let me take her to Dr. Thorne. The Lycan territory hospital—they have the equipment she needs."

"Absolutely not." Jackson stood, pulling on his pants with deliberate slowness. "No mate of mine goes running to the Lycan Council's territory. It makes me look weak."

"Then you take her. I don't care about pride or politics. Just save our daughter."

He looked at Lily's unconscious form with something approaching disgust. "She's weak, Raye. Maybe it's time to accept that nature is trying to correct a mistake."

The words hit me like physical blows. I sank to my knees on his bedroom floor, my daughter limp in my arms, and did something I'd never done before.

I begged.

"Please, Jackson. Please. I'll do anything. I'll never question you again. I'll accept Rachel, accept whatever role you want me to play. Just let me save her."

Rachel laughed—actually laughed—at the sight of me on my knees. "Look at her, Jackson. Pathetic. No wonder you needed a real woman."

Jackson's face hardened completely. "Get out of my room, Raye. Take your burden and go. And if I find out you've contacted anyone outside this pack about this, you'll regret it."

I looked up at him through tears, holding our dying daughter, and saw nothing but contempt in his eyes. The man I'd loved, the father of my children, was gone. In his place stood a stranger who would let his own child die rather than admit he might be wrong.

"Get out," he repeated, his voice like winter.

I struggled to my feet, Lily's weight suddenly feeling immense in my trembling arms. At the doorway, I turned back one last time.

"She's your daughter too," I whispered.

But he had already turned away, reaching for Rachel with hands that should have been comforting his dying child.

I stumbled down the hallway, my world crumbling around me. Lily's breathing was growing more labored with each passing minute. I had no money, no authority, and no way to get her the help she desperately needed.

But I had to try. Even if it meant defying Jackson's orders. Even if it meant risking everything.

Because losing everything was meaningless if I lost her.