Chapter 2

One night, my heat came early and left me shaking with pain.

When I woke in the middle of the night, the sheets were damp with sweat. My nightdress clung to my skin, and the cramps in my lower belly made it hard to stand. I managed to change, left the soaked clothes in the bathroom, and lay down again. The laundry could wait until morning.

At sunrise, Marjorie’s voice ripped me from sleep.

She did not knock. She stormed straight into the room, snatched up the stained bedding, and hurled it at me.

“Get up and clean this,” she snapped. “Do you have any idea how disgusting this is?”

I pressed a hand to my abdomen and forced myself to sit up. “I’m not feeling well. Let me lie down for a little while, and I’ll take care of it later.”

She crossed the room, seized my arm, and hauled me off the mattress before I could get my feet under me.

“You still have the nerve to say you feel unwell?” she shouted. “You’ve been in this pack for this long, and you still haven’t conceived. What good are you?”

The blanket slipped in the struggle. I snatched it back against my chest, trying to cover myself while she stood over me. I was in my own bedroom, in pain, and she wouldn’t even let me get dressed in private.

“I told you I’ll change and wash them. Leave my room.”

She looked ready to keep going, but her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and answered at once. She had invited a few women from the pack  over that morning, and apparently they were already on their way.

That saved me from an even uglier fight.

Later, while I was outside hanging the sheets to dry, I heard them talking in the sitting room through the open doors.

“Still no pup?”

“Not yet.”

“That long and nothing? Something must be wrong.”

“My daughter conceived almost right after the bond ceremony. Her little boy is running around already.”

“Have you tried sending her to a pack doctor?”

Marjorie gave a quiet laugh.

“I’m starting to think she’s just a barren Omega wearing a Luna’s title.”

My fingers tightened around the fabric in my hands.

What kind of woman humiliated her son’s mate like that in front of guests?

I could not bear to hear another word.

I called Ethan several times, but he never answered.

When he came home that evening, Marjorie caught him at the door. She pulled him aside and spoke in a low voice before I could get close to him . By the time he came into our room, he wouldn’t look at me.

I wanted to speak to him, but he stood by the window answering messages on his phone as though I were not there.

I stepped forward and reached for it. He pulled it away at once and turned on me.

“Stop it, Leah. I’m busy.”

I stared at him. “Busy with what? You’re already home.”

“With pack business,” he snapped. “What do you think keeps this place running? If I stop working, what exactly are you planning to live on?”

He was the one who’d asked me to quit. I stared at him, waiting for him to remember that, but he kept talking.

“Everything in this house is paid for by me. You spend freely enough, but you can’t even manage to keep the peace with my mother.”

I looked at him in disbelief.

“What have I ever bought for myself? I buy groceries and things for this house. Your mother humiliates me every day, and now you’re telling me I haven’t taken care of her?”

He looked away from me, his jaw set.

“I’m exhausted,” he said. “I’m not doing this tonight.”

Then he turned away from me, lay down, and closed his eyes as if that settled everything.

I stood there in silence for a long time. That night, I cried without making a sound.

Sleep never came.