The Alpha Captain Gave My Home to His First Love

"I opened the bottle because she asked me to," I said, my voice cutting through the sterile silence of the team's rehab clinic.

Carter stood by the examination bed, gripping a clear plastic evidence bag. Inside sat a small, amber prescription bottle.

"The lab rushed the results," Carter stated, holding the bag up to the fluorescent lights. "The ingredients in this bottle do not match her prescribed painkillers. And only two sets of fingerprints are on the plastic. Yours, and hers."

"She struggled with the childproof cap last night," I told him, meeting his hard stare. "I twisted it off and handed it back. That is all."

Julian, one of the senior Pack managers, crossed his arms. He stood near the door, blocking the exit. "And you didn't think to mention this earlier?"

"Nobody asked me who opened the bottle," I shot back, turning to face him. "You asked who was in the room."

On the bed, Sienna offered a weak, trembling sigh. The heart monitors beeped a steady, irritating rhythm next to her pale face.

"Maybe I just remembered it wrong," Sienna whispered, her gaze dropping to the white hospital blanket. She picked at a loose thread, refusing to look at me. "But Lena was really angry yesterday that I took the guest room."

I stepped toward the bed. "Sienna, do not do this."

"I'm just saying," Sienna continued, shrinking back against the pillows as if my presence physically threatened her. "Tensions were high. You made it very clear you didn't want me in your house."

Carter stepped between us, acting as a human shield.

Julian moved over to the corner counter, where my leather tote bag rested. "We need to clear all variables."

Before I could object, Julian unzipped the main compartment and tipped it over. My wallet, my keys, and a tube of lip gloss clattered onto the metal counter. Then, he reached into the zippered side pocket.

My stomach plummeted. That was the exact pocket where I had stashed the positive pregnancy test.

Julian pulled out a crushed cardboard medicine box.

"I found this in the side pocket of your bag, Lena," Julian announced, holding the carton up.

He turned the box toward Carter.

"The batch number on this empty carton matches the tainted pills," the team doctor noted, checking a clipboard in his hands.

"Someone went through my bag," I said, rushing forward.

I grabbed the tote from Julian's hands, my fingers frantically searching the lining. The plastic stick was gone from the side pocket. Whoever planted the box had shoved my things around, burying the test deep inside.

"Who else would go through your bag?" Carter demanded.

I clamped my mouth shut. If I mentioned the pregnancy test now, in front of Julian, the team doctor, and Carter, it would become a desperate defense tactic. A shield. I refused to use my baby as a shield to deflect a criminal accusation.

My hesitation hung in the air, thick and damning.

Carter stepped closer. His eyes, usually warm when he looked at me, were completely foreign. "You can hate me, Lena. But when did you become someone who takes it out on another person's body?"

The words struck my chest like a physical blow. "You think I poisoned her over a bedroom?"

"The security camera outside the rehab room caught you walking in with the bottle last night," Carter replied, his tone chillingly flat. "It didn't catch anyone else."

"Because she was already inside," I argued, pointing at Sienna. "The camera only covers the hallway."

"Enough." Carter held up a hand, silencing me. "The press already got wind of an ambulance at the facility. We are holding a brief media statement in twenty minutes."

"To say what?" I asked.

"To issue an apology," Carter said. "You will apologize to Sienna."

"I didn't swap her pills!"

"Even if you didn't, you should never have touched an injured player's private medication," Carter fired back. "If you still want to stand beside me as the future Luna, you need to know when to protect the Pack first."

Twenty minutes later, camera flashes blinded me in the facility's media room.

I stood at the podium, gripping the wooden edges until my knuckles turned white. Carter flanked my right side, his presence a heavy, oppressive weight. Sienna sat in a wheelchair to my left, looking every bit the tragic victim.

The room buzzed with impatient reporters, their microphones thrust toward the stage.

"Read the statement," Carter muttered under his breath, leaning close to my ear. "Just read it."

I stared at the index card on the podium. I refused to read the confession they wrote for me.

"I apologize for not disclosing that I handled the medication bottle beforehand," I told the microphones, enunciating every syllable.

I did not confess to tampering. I offered nothing else.

Before the reporters could shout their questions, Sienna reached up and grabbed my wrist. Her fingers dug into my skin, her nails sharp.

"I forgive you, Lena," she said, her voice amplified by the mic.

A collective gasp rippled through the press corps. The cameras clicked furiously, capturing the exact second my guilt was publicly cemented by her mercy.

I yanked my arm away from her grip.

Sienna swayed in her chair, letting out a soft, dramatic gasp.

Carter immediately turned his back on me. He grabbed Sienna's shoulders, steadying her, his face etched with panic. He didn't even glance in my direction to see if I was okay.

The crowd dispersed. Pack security ushered the reporters out of the building.

I retreated to the empty hallway outside the clinic. My hands shook as I dug deep into the bottom of my tote bag. My fingers brushed against smooth plastic. The pregnancy test. Whoever planted the box had shoved it down into the lining.

I pulled it out and slipped it into a small paper pharmacy bag I found on a nearby medical cart. It was time to tell Carter the truth. Not just about the baby, but about the fact that his blind trust was destroying our family.

I marched toward Sienna's clinic room, my steps silent on the linoleum.

Just as I reached the door, it swung open. Dr. Naomi Pierce stepped out, clutching a digital tablet. Carter followed right behind her, his expression grim.

"The reaction caused severe internal inflammation," Naomi told him, ignoring my arrival. "Sienna requires reconstructive surgery immediately. But there is a complication."

"Fix it, Naomi," Carter ordered.

"Her wolf biology is rejecting standard blood products," the doctor explained, tapping the screen. "She needs a rare Moon Blood transfusion to stabilize during the procedure. The Pack database just finished the automatic screening."

Naomi handed the tablet to Carter.

I stepped closer, my eyes catching the bright blue text at the very top of the screen.

Match Found: Lena Hart.

Carter stared at the glowing letters for a long second. Then, he raised his head. His gaze dropped to the small paper bag clutched in my hand, before locking onto my eyes.

"Lena," Carter commanded, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. "You cannot say no this time."