Unwanted Mate's Redemption

The four pups I bore were all raised under the Luna’s name. For this, Marcellus Cruz, the Beta of the Blue Pack, had comforted me for over a decade:

"The pups will still honor you as their mother. If they don’t, I’ll break their legs."

Under my care, my eldest pup, Dorian, passed the pack trials at just 15, becoming the youngest Delta in our history. My second pup, Quentin, excelled as a warrior, earning his place as a Gamma. Even my younger twins, Ryder and Nathanael, showed remarkable promise, their names whispered with pride throughout the pack.

Yet, they spent their days fawning over Raelyn, the Luna, their voices dripping with admiration:

"All of this is thanks to Mother’s guidance."

During my fourth birth, I nearly lost my life—and the pup with me. But Marcellus and my pups stayed glued to Raelyn’s bedside, never once sparing a glance for me.

The healer, Zaylee, couldn’t bear to watch. "Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked, her voice heavy with pity.

I looked down at the tiny bundle in my arms, my heart aching with resolve.

"Yes," I said quietly. "Help me find a driver. I need to leave—now."

==============================

"Karina, you can’t be serious," Zaylee protested, her face pale with concern. "You’ve just survived something that could’ve killed you. You need to rest, to recover. And your position—if you’re caught leaving the pack without permission, there’ll be no mercy."

She was right. As an unmated Omega, I was little more than a servant. I gently stroked the pup’s cheek. This one had been different from the start, almost taking my life in the process. But I’d made a selfish decision in return, one that would finally set me free.

Zaylee continued to plead, but I reached under my pillow and pulled out a piece of paper.

"Don’t worry," I said. "The Beta has agreed."

The release letter was something I’d forced Marcellus to sign years ago, when I’d stepped aside to let Raelyn take my place. I never thought I’d use it, but after more than a decade in the Blue Pack, I’d grown tired.

The man I loved was another’s mate. The pups I’d raised called another woman "Mother."

While they clustered around Raelyn’s sickbed, I wrapped myself and the pup in a thick coat and slipped out the side gate of the pack house. A sturdy SUV waited, the driver, Sage, already behind the wheel.

"Where to?" she asked briskly, her scarf tied tightly around her head.

The birth had drained every ounce of strength from me, and the short walk from the infirmary to the gate felt like a marathon. I pulled the coat aside to gaze at the pup’s peaceful face and let out a sigh of relief.

"Silver Moon Pack," I said. "Can you take us?"

Sage hesitated. "That’s a long way. You didn’t mention that earlier."

I understood. For most in the Blue Pack, the Silver Moon Pack was a distant, unfamiliar territory. I started to climb out of the SUV, determined to find another driver before the gates closed for the night.

A cold breeze slipped through the open door, and I shivered, coughing lightly.

"Wait, wait, no need to rush," Sage said, grabbing my arm with a reassuring smile. She carefully sealed the SUV’s windows to block the wind. "What I meant was, if we’re going that far, we’ll need supplies."

She drove us to the supermarket, where vendors called out their wares.

"Fresh apples! Sweet as honey!"

"Come try this hot stew!"

Sage clearly knew her way around long journeys. She bought jerky and bread, practical foods that would last.

"Three dollars for the bread, and a five for the jerky," the vendor said, tallying up the total.

Sage frowned, convinced the man had overcharged, and insisted on recounting the money herself. I pulled the coat’s hood aside slightly.

"It’s four hundred seventy-six cents," I said quietly. "He overcharged by thirty-four."

"Wow, Karina, you’ve got a head for numbers," Sage said, impressed.

I shook my head and leaned back. As a merchant’s daughter, calculating sums was second nature to me.

When the vendor returned the extra coins, I told Sage to keep them. As we neared the pack’s gates, she bought a bag of dried dates.

"For the journey," she said, handing them to me. "They’ll help you recover."

I was stunned, too surprised to even thank her. Sage never asked why I was leaving the pack alone with a newborn. She only knew that childbirth was a perilous ordeal, and those who survived often emerged half-dead.

But Marcellus and my pups didn’t know—or care. During my labor, the last of my medicinal herbs, a rare root that could’ve saved my life, had been taken for Raelyn’s cold. To them, her sniffles were more urgent than my struggle to survive.

Once, I wouldn’t have cared about losing something as trivial as a root. But age had made me selfish, unwilling to give without receiving in return.

As the SUV passed through the gates, I risked the cold and pulled back the curtain for one last look.

The Blue Pack was a good place.

But I didn’t want to come back.