The Broken Luna, Now His Regret

Mira stared at the two lines. She should be happy. Relieved. This was what she'd been trying for, what would secure her position, what might finally bring Kieran home for good.

But all she could think about was the clinical encounter that had created this life. The cold efficiency. The immediate departure. The total absence of love.

Voices drifted up from downstairs-Kieran's deep rumble and another voice, older, sharper. His mother. Selene must have been waiting in the study.

Since their wedding, Selene had been a fervent heir-planner. But after Mira gave birth to their daughter Brielle four years ago, nothing had followed. The difficult delivery had nearly claimed Mira's life and had drained her body dry. Almost as soon as she'd recovered, Selene had placed the task of producing a son squarely on her agenda.

What left Mira feeling most powerless was that Kieran had offered almost no objection. She had thought he might have considered her feelings, at least a little.

Mira let out a silent sigh. It didn't matter now. She was finally pregnant again. She hoped this would put an end to the whole charade.

Pushing the door open softly, she headed downstairs to share the "good" news with Kieran. The study was directly below the master suite, and the old manor's ventilation system carried sound perfectly. She'd discovered this accidentally years ago and had hated herself for using it since, but tonight she couldn't help herself.

"-handled it?" Selene was saying. "Did she take the test?"

"She will." Kieran sounded tired. "She's very dutiful about these things."

"If it's another daughter, we need to consider alternatives."

Mira's breath caught. She pressed closer to the doorway, heart hammering.

"What alternatives?" Kieran asked warily.

"Astrid is young, healthy. She could bear you a son without complications."

A silence followed, and Mira felt her heart twist into a cold knot. So that was their next move? But Kieran's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts.

"Absolutely not."

There was a new tension in his tone, and relief flooded through Mira so intensely she felt dizzy. He'd refused. Finally, he was standing up for their marriage. Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe he did still care-

"I haven't forgotten how difficult Mira's last delivery was," Kieran continued. "She nearly died, but she survived it. She can handle that risk again if needed. But Astrid-she's never been through childbirth. I won't put her in that kind of danger."

The world stopped.

Mira stood frozen in the doorway, the positive pregnancy test still clutched in her hand, as her husband's words replayed in her mind.

She can handle that risk again.

Not "I won't risk my wife's life." Not "I care too much about Mira to endanger her."

Just... she could handle it. She'd survived it before. She was the safe option because she was already broken, already used, already disposable.

While Astrid-precious, delicate Astrid-had to be protected.

Something cracked open inside Mira's chest, something that had been holding together through sheer stubborn hope.

Five years of marriage, of devotion, of nearly dying to give him a child, and this was what she meant to him. Not a partner. Not a mate. Just a vessel that had already proven it could take damage and keep functioning.

Was that truly how he saw her? Was that the entirety of her worth in this marriage?

"Well, we'll see what this month brings," Selene said. "But Kieran, you need to be firm with her. She needs to understand her duty."

"I know, Mother."

Their voices faded as they moved toward the front of the house. Mira heard the front door open and close, heard Kieran's car engine start, heard him drive away into the night.

Back to his perfect life. Back to Astrid.

Mira looked down at the pregnancy test in her hand. Her vision blurred with tears she hadn't even felt fall.

Two pink lines that should have meant joy, hope, a future. Instead, they felt like a prison sentence.

She couldn't tell them. They didn't care if she lived or died, and she couldn't bear to imagine the fresh hell that would await her if this child, too, was a girl. Would they cast her aside, scorn her for a useless womb? Or simply schedule the next attempt?

Stumbling back to the bathroom, she braced one hand on the vanity, the other pressed over her heart. No sound of pain escaped her lips, but inside, everything was breaking.

She lifted her gaze to the mirror. Same face, same body, but something fundamental had changed. The woman looking back at her wasn't the hopeful, devoted mate who'd arrived at the manor tonight.

That woman was dead.

Mira turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face, watching droplets fall into the white porcelain sink. When she looked up again, her eyes were clear. Hard.

She can handle that risk again.

No. No, she couldn't. She wouldn't.

She'd spent four years making herself smaller, quieter, more convenient. She'd given up her career, her friends, her sense of self. She'd nearly died bringing Brielle into the world, and Kieran hadn't even visited her during the three days she'd spent in a coma.

And now he expected her to do it again-not because he loved her, not because he wanted a family with her, but because she was the safe option. The one whose life didn't matter.

Mira picked up the positive pregnancy test and looked at it one last time. Then she wrapped it carefully in tissue and placed it in her pocket.

Not to show Kieran. Not to celebrate.

Evidence. For later.

She walked to the closet and began pulling out clothes, packing a small bag with steady hands. She'd go to the estate tonight-see Brielle, kiss her daughter goodnight.

For years, she'd been kept at a distance from her own child under the pretense that she needed to focus entirely on conceiving again. Selene had insisted Brielle was cared for by the staff and that Mira's most important duty was to get pregnant, undistracted.

She had argued, fought, tried in countless ways, but it was useless. Only a few limited days each month, after fulfilling her "duty," were granted for her to be with her daughter.

As she stepped out the door, bag in hand, the full weight of her own foolishness settled upon her. How had she ever believed this compromise could lead to peace? She was Kieran's Luna, yet she had been reduced to something less than an omega.

This should never happen again.

She pulled up to Thornfield Estate just before midnight. The house was mostly dark, but Brielle's bedroom window glowed with a soft nightlight.

Mira parked and sat for a moment, gathering her courage. Her daughter. Her baby. The little girl she'd nearly died to bring into this world.

Please, Mira prayed to no one in particular. Please let her still love me.

She got out of the car and walked to the front door, using her key to let herself in quietly. The estate was silent except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer. Mira climbed the stairs to Brielle's room and eased the door open.

Her daughter was still awake, sitting up in bed with a picture book in her lap. At four years old, Brielle was the perfect blend of Mira and Kieran-dark curls from her father, green eyes from her mother, and a serious little face that made her seem older than her years.

"Mommy?" Brielle looked up, surprised. Then her expression shuttered slightly, becoming more guarded. "What are you doing here?"

The question hurt more than it should have. What are you doing here? As if Mira needed a reason to visit her own child.

"I came to see you, sweetheart." Mira moved into the room slowly, not wanting to spook her. "I missed you."

Brielle set her book aside but didn't reach for Mira the way she used to. "Daddy said you were busy working."

Of course he did.

"I was working, but I'm never too busy for you. You know that, right?"

Brielle shrugged, a gesture far too adult for a four-year-old. "Auntie Astrid says you have important things to do. She says that's why she takes care of me now."

Auntie Astrid. The affectionate title made Mira's head spin. So while Kieran had restricted her access, he'd freely allowed his mistress to step into this role? How could he?

A cold, sharp resolve tightened in her chest. The decision she'd made before leaving solidified into something urgent and unshakable.

"Brielle, baby..." Mira sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to crowd her daughter. "I want you to know that I love you more than anything in the world. More than any job, more than anything else. You're the most important thing in my life."

"Then why don't you live here?" Brielle's voice was small, but the accusation in it was clear. "Auntie Astrid lives here. She reads me stories every night and makes my favorite breakfast and plays with me. Where do you go?"

Mira felt something crack in her chest. "I live at the manor with Daddy. But I know I haven't been here as much as I should. That's going to change, I promise."

"Daddy doesn't live at the manor. He lives with Auntie Astrid in the city."

The casual way Brielle said it-as if it were just a normal fact of life-made Mira want to scream. How had she let things get this bad? How had she been so focused on trying to save her marriage that she'd missed her daughter being stolen from her?

"Brielle, I need to ask you something." Mira took a breath. "Do you want a little brother or sister?"

Brielle's face brightened. "I want a brother! Then I could teach him things and play with him."

"And what if Mommy said she was scared to have another baby? That it might be dangerous?"

Brielle's expression changed, became stern in a way that was clearly parroted from adult conversations. "That's selfish, Mommy. You weren't afraid when you had me. Why would you be afraid now?"

The words struck like a physical blow. Four years old, and already wielding guilt like a weapon she'd been taught to use.

"You're right," Mira whispered. "I wasn't afraid then. But things are different now."

Brielle yawned, her small body relaxing back into the pillows. "I'm sleepy."

"Okay, baby. Let me tuck you in."

Mira helped Brielle settle under the covers, stroking her dark curls until her breathing evened out. But just as Mira thought she was asleep, Brielle's eyes fluttered open.

"Mommy? Will you stay tonight?"

"Of course I will."

Mira lay down beside her daughter, holding her close, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. And for a few precious moments, everything else faded away. The betrayal, the pain, the impossible choices ahead-none of it mattered.

Only this. Only Brielle.

But even as she held her daughter, Mira's mind was working. Tomorrow morning she'd call Zara to schedule the appointment. Tomorrow she'd drive to Windmere. Tomorrow she'd end the pregnancy that Kieran saw as just another duty, another risk she could "handle."

Tomorrow she'd start choosing herself.

For tonight, she'd hold her baby and pretend the world wasn't falling apart around them.

But tomorrow, she would begin the fight to secure a future-for herself, and for her daughter.

Tomorrow, she would file for divorce from Alpha Kieran, whatever the cost.