Daughter Lost, New Love Found

I clutched Mae's small hand tighter as Robert's eyes darkened with that familiar alpha glow. The pack hospital waiting room had fallen silent, all eyes on us—their Luna and her pup being evaluated as if we were nothing more than spare parts.

"Robert, please," I whispered, my voice breaking. "There must be other donors. Other options. Mae is just a child."

Melanie lay on the examination table, her face a perfect mask of suffering. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her eyes glistening with tears that never quite fell. "I never wanted this."

Robert's jaw tightened as he stepped closer to us. "This isn't up for discussion, Siena."

"It's my body," I said, louder now, aware of the pack members watching. "And Mae is my daughter."

"She's my daughter too," Robert snapped, his alpha aura flaring. "And as Alpha of this pack, I make the decisions."

Elena stood frozen beside her medical equipment, her hands trembling slightly. I caught the flicker of something in her eyes—guilt? Fear?

"Alpha Robert," she began hesitantly, "perhaps we should consider—"

"Silence!" Robert's voice cracked like a whip. "Prepare them both for surgery. Now."

The word hung in the air between us, heavy with authority. I felt it pressing down on me, the alpha command settling into my bones like ice.

"No," I gasped, fighting against it. "Robert, don't do this."

But he was already turning away, his hand resting gently on Melanie's shoulder. "It's decided."

I watched as pack members filed out of the room, their expressions ranging from pity to judgment. None of them would meet my eyes.

"Mommy?" Mae's voice was small, frightened. "Are you okay?"

I forced a smile for her sake. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Don't worry."

But inside, Sera was howling with rage and fear. "He's using his alpha command on us! On his own family!"

The command settled deeper, making my limbs heavy. I couldn't fight it—no wolf could fight their alpha's direct order.

---

The operating room was cold and bright. I lay on one table while Mae was on another, separated by a curtain that did little to muffle the sounds from her side.

"Mommy?" Mae called, her voice trembling. "I'm scared."

"I'm here," I managed, though the alpha command made even speaking difficult. "Everything will be fine."

Through the gap in the curtain, I saw Melanie watching me, her eyes calculating despite her weakened state. She leaned close to Elena, whispering something that made the healer's face pale.

"Wait," I tried to say, but the command forced me to lie still as Elena approached with a syringe.

"This will help you relax," she murmured, her eyes avoiding mine.

I saw her glance at Melanie, who nodded slightly.

"What about Mae?" I asked desperately. "Will she be okay?"

Elena's hands trembled as she prepared another syringe. "She'll... she'll be taken care of."

The drugs pulled me under before I could ask more.

---

I drifted in and out of consciousness, aware of pain and voices.

"Is it done?" Melanie's voice, stronger than it had been in days.

"Yes," Elena whispered. "Her kidney is prepped for transport as you requested."

"And the child?"

A pause. "I did as you asked. The wound isn't properly sealed. She won't... she won't survive the night."

A soft laugh from Melanie. "Perfect. Robert will be devastated, but he'll need someone to comfort him. And soon enough, you'll have your payment."

I tried to scream, to move, but my body wouldn't respond. The alpha command still held me in its grip.

---

When I finally woke fully, the hospital room was dim and quiet. My side throbbed with pain, but something worse gripped my heart—a terrible emptiness.

"Mae?" I called weakly.

No answer.

I forced myself to sit up, ignoring the stabbing pain. The bed beside mine was empty, the sheets neatly made.

"Where's my daughter?" I demanded as a nurse entered.

Her eyes dropped to the floor. "I'm sorry, Luna Siena."

Those three words told me everything. The room spun around me as I struggled to breathe.

"No," I whispered. "No, no, no."

The door opened again, and pack members began filing in—their faces solemn, judgmental.

"The Luna couldn't even protect her own pup," someone murmured.

"Maybe she never deserved to be Luna."

"If she were truly worthy, the Moon Goddess would have protected the pup."

Their words cut deeper than any knife could have. I curled into myself, my arms wrapping around the empty space where Mae should have been.

Somewhere in the distance, I heard Robert's anguished howl—too late to save our daughter, too late to undo what he had done.

And somewhere deeper inside me, something broke beyond repair.