While My Daughter Died, Her Alpha Father was with Her

My daughter Lyra’s last wish was simple: to see the Sacred Moon Lake.

I begged Kelvin—who I once thought I loved, Alpha of the Silver Fang Pack—to grant her that. Lyra was getting weaker by the day, her bright spirit fading like a candle in a storm. After days of pleading, he finally agreed.

“Fine. Tomorrow night. But don’t expect me to drop everything every time she has a whim!”

It was a reluctant promise, but I clung to it. That night, I stayed with Lyra. Her eyes sparkled as she imagined the lake under the moonlight, her weak body seeming stronger just at the thought.

“I can’t wait, Mom,” she whispered, holding my hand. “Do you think the moonlight will be bright enough to feel?”

I forced a smile, pushing back tears. “Yes, Lyra. I think it will.”

But the night before we were supposed to leave, Kelvin disappeared. He didn’t answer his phone, and there was no sign of him. Slowly, I realized he wasn’t coming.

“Mom?” Lyra’s voice was barely a whisper. She looked at me, her face pale but still hopeful. “Is Dad coming?”

I forced a smile. Hiding my tears. “He’ll join us later, honey. For now, it’s just you and me.”

We never reached the lake. I tried carrying her so she could at least see the moon’s reflection on the water, but her breathing got weaker, and she slipped away under the stars.

I handled the funeral alone, just like I’d done everything else for years. Back at our quiet, empty house, I sat on the floor of her room, surrounded by her things, and let the emptiness sink in.

And then, my phone buzzed with a message from my sister, Patricia that night. She’d sent a picture of her and Kelvin on a mountain trail, with a caption: “Thanks for the best weekend ever, Kelvin. You always know how to make me feel special!”

I stared at the screen, my chest tight. Waiting for the shock to turn into something—anger? Pain? But there was nothing. Just a numb acceptance. Why was I even surprised?

Packing up my things, I worked in silence, my movements steady, even as my heart felt like it was tearing itself apart.

It was almost midnight when I dragged my suitcase downstairs, planning to leave without a word. But there he was, like fate couldn’t let me go that easily.

Kelvin walked in, supporting Patricia, her arm in a sling, her face bruised with faint scratches.

The sight almost made me laugh. He was cradling her hand gently, looking at her with concern. Patricia leaned into him, looking up at me with a smug little smile, clearly loving this.

Patricia’s eyes met mine, and her lips curled into a smirk. “Lucille,” she said sweetly, “I had a bad fall on that hike with Kelvin. He was so sweet to take me to the hospital and bring me back here. Hope that’s alright with you?”

“Do whatever you want.” My voice was steadier than I felt. I gripped the suitcase handle tighter, resisting the urge to throw it at her smug face.

Kelvin’s gaze finally shifted from Patricia to me, eyeing the suitcase. His expression was blank, like I was just some stranger on the street. “Lucille, another one of your dramatic stunts?”

Dramatic? After everything?

Patricia chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “She was always a bit over-the-top, wasn’t she?” She said it with a laugh, a glint in her eyes, enjoying this way too much.

I took a breath, letting my gaze drop from him to her, feeling the ache in my chest spread. “Good luck, Patricia. You’re going to need it.”

Kelvin’s jaw tightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” I said, stepping closer so he could hear, “one day you’ll look back and realize what you threw away. But by then, it’ll be too late.” I turned to Patricia. “And don’t worry—I won’t be here to see it.”

I started to walk past them, but Kelvin grabbed my arm. “You’re not really leaving, Lucille,” he said, his grip firm, daring me to challenge him.

“Let go!” I snapped, yanking my arm free. “You were gone when I needed you. Gone when Lyra needed you. And where were you?” I motioned to Patricia, my voice shaking with fury. “You were with your mistress!”

Kelvin’s face twisted with irritation. “You’re acting like Lyra is dead.” He scoffed. “Stop acting like she’s gone just to mess with me.”

It felt like a slap. I stared at him, stunned. “You... you really think I’d make that up?!”

Patricia let out a low laugh. “Oh, Lucille, don’t be so sensitive! You always had a flair for the dramatic, but this?” She shook her head, faking pity. “Dragging him into your emotional games just because you’re upset? It’s low, even for you.”

“You’re unreal.” I turned to Kelvin, my voice trembling with anger. “Our daughter died in my arms but where were you?! And now you’re accusing me of lying?”

Kelvin crossed his arms, giving me a cold look. “If she’s dead, where’s the proof?”

The words barely registered. Proof? He thought I was lying? The absurdity of it left me speechless, staring at him as if I didn’t know him at all. Maybe I didn’t.

Silence thickened, almost choking. And then, finally, Kelvin looked away, unease flickering in his eyes. “I don’t have time for this, Lucille.” he muttered, brushing me off like I was nothing more than a nuisance.

“You never had time for any of it, did you?” I whispered, mostly to myself.

Patricia rolled her eyes. “Let her go, Kelvin. Maybe she’ll realize how silly she’s being once she cools off.”