I met his gaze steadily. “An Omega has no place in the main pack registry. I’m just… adapting to my new reality.”
Marcus’s expression turned distressed. “You’ll always be my Luna, Sarah. You have a place here in our pack.”
I met his gaze steadily. “As your future Luna, I should follow pack law. I won’t embarrass you as an Alpha.”
He pulled me closer, voice thick with emotion. “You always think of me first. That’s why you’re perfect for our pack.”
I suppressed a bitter smile at his performance.
“Marcus, I want to leave the hospital.”
His body tensed immediately.
“Absolutely not. You haven’t healed enough. I won’t risk it.”
I tugged at his arm playfully, forcing a bright smile.
“But didn’t you mention adopting a pup?” I made my voice small, worried. “Alpha pups are rarely abandoned. Will we be able to find one?”
It was the first time in five years I’d acted vulnerable with him.
Marcus’s expression softened. “Don’t worry about that. A friend of mine, another Alpha, died in a territory war two years ago. His pup is in our pack’s orphan den. We can visit him.”
He hesitated, then added, “I’ve been checking on the pup occasionally. Making sure he’s cared for.”
On the drive there, Marcus reached into the back seat and brought out a stuffed wolf toy.
He claimed he’d bought it specially for me, to cheer me up.
But the tag clearly stated “Suitable for pups ages 3-12.”
I set the toy aside and closed my eyes, pretending to feel unwell.
This five-year deception needed to end.
At the orphan den, I sat in the wheelchair, my burned body still too weak to walk.
A small boy, about three years old, immediately ran to Marcus.
“Daddy!” he cried, wrapping his arms around Marcus’s legs.
Marcus’s face flickered with panic before he quickly explained:
“Don’t misunderstand. I sponsor this den. I’ve visited several times, and this pup… he’s just attached to me. Calls every male visitor ‘daddy.'”
I nodded, reaching out to touch the boy’s cheek.
“He looks so much like you. If you hadn’t explained, I’d think he was yours.”
The boy had Marcus’s exact eye color. His small features echoed Rachel’s.
“What’s his name?”
“Oliver. He’s… he’s the one I thought we could adopt.”
I stroked the boy’s hair, noting how his scent carried traces of both Marcus and Rachel.
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