When My Mate Chose Her

The silence that followed Sterling's departure was a living thing, pressing against me from all sides. I gathered the scattered notes with trembling hands, each one a fresh wound. Five hundred and twenty-one pieces of my mate's heart, given to another woman, and I had been too blind to see it.

Ophelia's cries pierced the darkness, sharp and insistent. I forced myself to my feet, my legs unsteady as I made my way to the nursery. The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting silver patterns across her crib.

'Mama Moon,' she whimpered, reaching for me with tiny hands. Her eyes, so like mine, were wide with confusion and fear. 'Daddy gone?'

'Yes, sweetheart.' I lifted her into my arms, her small body warm against my chest. 'Daddy's gone for now.'

I settled into the rocking chair, cradling her against me. The small wooden wolf I'd carved during my darkest days sat on the windowsill, its crude form a testament to my attempts to hold onto something—anything—real. I'd made it during those long nights when sleep refused to come, when the darkness in my mind threatened to swallow me whole.

'Wolfie,' Ophelia murmured, reaching for it. I handed it to her, watching as she clutched it to her chest with the simple trust of a child who believed her parents could fix anything.

If only she knew.

The night stretched endlessly before me. I paced the nursery with Ophelia in my arms, humming lullabies that felt hollow in my throat. Every creak of the pack house made me flinch, every shadow seemed to whisper Sterling's name. But he wasn't coming back. Not tonight. Not ever, maybe.

My mind slipped into darker places as the hours crawled by. The postnatal depression that had been my silent companion since Ophelia's birth grew stronger, wrapping its suffocating arms around me. I thought about the window, about how easy it would be to simply... let go. To stop fighting the darkness that had been growing inside me for so long.

Ophelia stirred in my arms, her eyes fluttering open. 'Mama sad?'

The simple question snapped me back to myself. I pressed a kiss to her forehead, forcing warmth into my voice. 'No, baby. Mama's just tired.'

But the thoughts didn't leave. They circled like vultures, picking at the edges of my sanity. What was the point of fighting anymore? Sterling had made his choice. The pack house would always be his domain, and I would always be the Luna who wasn't enough. The mate who couldn't keep her Alpha's heart.

I looked down at Ophelia, now sleeping peacefully in my arms. Her tiny fingers were curled around the wooden wolf, her dark lashes resting against her cheeks. She was the only light left in my world, the only reason I kept breathing when every instinct screamed at me to give up.

The mate bond between Sterling and me felt stretched thin, gossamer threads unraveling one by one as he raced toward another woman. I pressed my thumb against the mark on my neck, the gesture now a painful reminder of everything I'd lost.

'Maren? Maren, are you there?'

The voice in my head was familiar, warm, and unexpected. Senna. My sister, mind-linking me from across territories. I hadn't heard from her in months.

'Senna?' I responded, my mental voice shaky. 'How did you—'

'I felt it,' she said simply. 'A disturbance in your aura. What's happening, sis? Talk to me.'

I swallowed hard, struggling to find words that wouldn't break down completely. 'It's... it's complicated.'

'Try me,' Senna's voice was gentle but firm. 'I know something's wrong. I can feel it even from here.'

The concern in her voice nearly undid me. But I couldn't tell her—not yet. Not like this, with Ophelia sleeping in my arms and Sterling's betrayal still fresh and bleeding.

'It's just... pack politics,' I lied, the words bitter on my tongue. 'Nothing I can't handle.'

There was a pause, and I could feel Senna's disbelief rolling through the link. 'Maren West, I've known you since we were pups. I can smell your pain from here. Are you in danger?'

'No,' I said quickly. 'Just... tired. It's been a long night.'

Another pause. Then, softly: 'Remember who you are, Maren. Before you were Luna, before you were a mate, you were a warrior. You were fierce. You were unstoppable.'

Her words hit me like a physical blow. I hadn't thought of myself as a warrior in so long. The title of Luna had become my entire identity, and now that identity was crumbling.

'I remember,' I whispered, tears finally spilling down my cheeks.

'Hold onto that,' Senna said. 'Whatever's happening, hold onto the warrior inside you. She's still there.'

The link faded, leaving me alone once more with Ophelia and the endless night. But something had shifted. A small spark had ignited in the darkness, a tiny flame of the woman I used to be.

I looked down at my daughter, her face peaceful in sleep, and made a silent promise. For her, I would find that warrior again. For her, I would fight.