I Fought for Our Family—He Fought for My Sister

The funeral was a blur. People came, offered their condolences, and left, but none of it registered. My son was gone, and no amount of kind words or sympathy could change that. It felt like the whole pack was moving on while I was stuck in this endless pit of grief.

Back at home, the silence was suffocating. I found myself in Noah’s room, staring at his bed. His favorite blanket was crumpled in the corner, and his toys were scattered like he had just been playing with them. Everything was still, too still, as if the house itself knew what had happened.

I sank to the floor, clutching his blanket to my chest. The pain was so deep, I could barely breathe. My heart felt like it had been ripped out and stomped on. “Why did you leave me?” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “Why did you have to go?”

I don’t know how long I sat there, lost in my grief, when I heard the front door open. Damon was home. I wiped my face quickly, trying to pull myself together, but it didn’t matter. The ache in my chest was still there, gnawing at me.

He walked past Noah’s room without a glance, without a word. Just like that, like I didn’t exist. Like our son didn’t exist. The anger that had been simmering beneath my sadness bubbled up. He hadn’t been there when Noah and I needed him, and now he was acting like nothing had happened.

I stood up and followed him to our bedroom. He was taking off his jacket, acting casual, like this was any other day. Something about the way he moved so easily while my world was shattered made my blood boil.

“Damon,” I said, my voice shaking with a mix of sadness and anger.

He barely looked at me. “What is it, Luna?”

"What is it?" His words hit me like a slap. I wanted to scream, to demand how he could be so cold, but something else caught my attention. There was a scent on him—faint, but familiar. It wasn’t mine. It was hers.

I stepped closer, my heart pounding. “Why... Why do you smell like Leah?”

Damon froze for just a second, then shrugged like it was nothing. “What are you talking about?”

“I can smell her on you, Damon,” I said, my voice low but sharp. “Why do you smell like my sister!?”

He didn’t meet my eyes, and that was all the answer I needed. “We were together earlier,” he said, still too calm. “She needed someone to talk to after the funeral. What else could it be?”

I blinked, barely able to process what I was hearing. “You left me, Damon. You left me and Noah, and now you’re spending time with her?”

“Luna, don’t start this,” he muttered, turning away from me. “I’ve had a long day.”

“A long day?” My voice rose, the pain turning into full-blown rage. “You weren’t the one holding our dying son in your arms! You weren’t the one screaming for help while your mate ran off with someone else!”

His jaw clenched, but he still didn’t turn around. He just stood there, like this conversation wasn’t worth his time.

“Damon, look at me!” I yelled, my voice breaking. “Don’t you dare turn your back on me after everything!”

He finally turned to face me, his expression cold, unreadable. “What do you want me to say, Luna?”

“I want the truth.” My voice trembled, but I held my ground. “I want to know if you’ve been with her. If you’ve been cheating on me with my own sister.”

The silence stretched between us, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he sighed, his shoulders slumping just a little. “Yes.”

It was a simple word, but it hit me like a freight train. My knees buckled, and I had to grab onto the doorframe to keep from falling. “You and Leah?” My voice was barely a whisper.

He didn’t say anything. His silence was enough.

“How long?” I asked, tears blurring my vision. “How long have you been with her?”

“Does it matter?” Damon asked, his voice flat. “It’s not like—”

“It matters to me!” I screamed, the rage exploding out of me. “You were supposed to be my mate! You were supposed to be there for US! For our son!”

His silence was the answer I didn’t want, but I already knew the truth. I had lost my son, and now I was losing everything else. My mate, my family, my whole world.

“I held our son while he died, Damon,” I whispered, my voice broken. “And you were with my sister... damn!”

“I’m sorry, Luna,” he said, but the words felt empty, like he didn’t mean them. Like he was just saying it because he had to.

I shook my head, wiping my tears. “No, you’re not sorry! You’re sorry you got caught.”

He didn’t deny it. He just stood there, staring at me with that same cold, detached look. I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind me.

As I stormed out, the whispers of the pack filled my ears. They weren't just in my head—I knew the gossip was already spreading. I could almost hear the hushed voices, the sideways glances.

"Did you hear? Damon and Leah were together after the funeral," their voice low but full of curiosity. "He didn’t even seem that upset about Noah."

"It’s like he chose Leah over Luna, like he never really loved her to begin with. Can you imagine?"