Rejected Luna Finds New Love

The first rays of dawn filtered through the hospital window, painting the sterile white walls with a soft golden glow. I lay still, listening to the pack members beginning their morning runs outside. Their synchronized footfalls echoed through the grounds, a reminder of the life continuing without me for three years.

Three years. And a mate who had betrayed me in the worst possible way.

I closed my eyes, feigning sleep as Elara entered the room for her morning check. Her scent—herbs and antiseptic—filled the small space as she moved around my bed, checking monitors and adjusting my IV.

"Your vitals are improving, Luna Victoria," she said, her voice carrying that same undercurrent of guilt I'd noticed before. "Alpha Marcus will be pleased."

I doubted that very much. The memory of his conversation with Elara haunted me: *"When the time comes, we'll handle it like the others. The rogues will take this one too."*

My hand instinctively moved to my abdomen, where my unborn pup grew, unaware of the danger surrounding us both. My wolf growled protectively within me.

"I'd like to try walking today," I whispered, my voice still rough from disuse.

Elara's eyebrows shot up. "That might be too ambitious. You've been unconscious for—"

"Three years. I know." I forced a weak, pleading smile. "Just to the window, perhaps? I miss feeling the sun."

She hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "A short walk only. I'll help you."

The moment my feet touched the cold floor, my legs trembled violently. This wasn't an act—my muscles had atrophied during my coma, leaving me genuinely weak. But as Elara supported me to the window, I memorized every step, every doorway, every turn of the corridor visible through my open door.

Knowledge was my weapon. And I needed every advantage I could get.

* * *

As the days passed, I established a routine. Each morning, I'd allow Elara to help me walk a little further, making a show of my frailty while secretly pushing myself harder when alone. In the afternoons, when the pack hospital quieted for shift changes, I'd slip out to a secluded oak tree visible from my window but hidden from the main pack house.

There, beneath its spreading branches, I would perform the exercises my father had taught me as a pup—stretching my weakened muscles, testing my limits, building back the strength that had once made me worthy of being an Alpha's mate.

"We'll survive this," I whispered to my unborn pup as I completed a set of careful stretches. "We'll find your brother and escape this place."

My wolf, growing stronger each day, rumbled in agreement. The mate bond with Marcus felt hollow now that I knew the truth—he had performed a rejection ceremony while I lay unconscious, unable to defend myself or our children.

During my daily therapy sessions, I studied the large map of the pack territory mounted on the hospital wall. Each corridor, each security door, each potential exit burned itself into my memory. I noted the guards' rotation schedules, the times when the pack was most active, and when it was most vulnerable.

"You're making remarkable progress," Dr. Elara commented one afternoon, her expression troubled as she watched me complete a series of simple exercises. "Your wolf must be very strong."

"She's motivated," I replied softly, meeting the healer's eyes. Something flickered there—was it shame? Complicity? I couldn't be sure, but I knew I couldn't trust her. She had helped Marcus hide his betrayal.

As night fell on the seventh day since my awakening, I waited until the midnight shift change before slipping from my bed. The corridor was empty, the night staff gathered in the break room for their handover meeting. Moving silently, I made my way to the records room I'd spotted during my walks.

The door was locked, but the simple mechanism yielded to a hairpin I'd salvaged from a nurse's abandoned supplies. Inside, filing cabinets lined the walls, each labeled with meticulous precision.

My fingers trembled as I found the drawer marked with my name: "Hayes, Victoria – Luna (Inactive)."

The file was thick, documenting my injuries, my pregnancy losses, my coma. But tucked between medical reports was what I sought—transfer documents, signed by Marcus himself, authorizing the placement of "Male Pup A. Sterling" with the Gray Shadow Rogue Family, located in the abandoned mining territory twenty miles north of pack lands.

Andrew. My son had a name.

Tears blurred my vision as I memorized the details, my heart breaking anew at the clinical language describing my child as if he were a package to be delivered.

A noise in the hallway startled me. Quickly replacing the file, I slipped back to my room, the precious information clutched to my heart like a talisman.

Andrew. My son was alive. And now I knew where to find him.

But as I settled back into my hospital bed, a new scent drifted through the partially open window—unfamiliar, powerful, and distinctly royal. Someone important had arrived at the Silvermoon Pack.

My wolf lifted her head, suddenly alert. This new presence could mean either salvation or a new threat to our carefully forming escape plan.

Only time would tell which.