Two

A month passed, and the world moved on. Ethan married Claire while I was stuck in a haze of nothingness.

My dad bore the brunt of my disgrace. People whispered when he walked past and called him. “The father of the loose girl.”

It broke my heart to see the toll it took on him. Dark circles formed under his eyes, and he spent more time sitting silently at the table, lost in his thoughts.

I couldn’t face the pack’s judgment. I couldn’t return to work at Ethan’s company because seeing him and Claire together would be unbearable. 

Thankfully, I had some savings to live off of, but I couldn’t ignore my dad's silent disappointment. He never said it outright, but I saw it in his eyes and heard it in the heavy sighs he tried to hide.

Then I missed my period.

At first, I thought it was stress throwing my cycle off. But when nausea started creeping in and my body began to feel different, I realized I needed to take a test.

The morning I went out was the first time I had left the house since the incident. I wore a hoodie and kept my head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone. In a small pack like ours, gossip spread faster than wildfire, and I couldn’t afford to draw attention to myself.

I paid for the test and a few other items. But as I turned to leave, I froze.

Ethan and Claire strolled hand in hand. They moved with the glow of a couple still enjoying their honeymoon phase. Claire's laughter was light and carefree.

I ducked my head, turned sharply, and went in the other direction. My hand tightened around my bag as rage bubbled inside me. 

How could they wreck my life and waltz around as if I’d been nothing but a placeholder in their perfect little story? They didn’t even bother giving me a chance to prove my innocence.

Back home, the five-minute wait for the test result felt endless. My mind raced with scenarios—what would I do if it was positive? I couldn't even identify the stranger I had sex with.

When the two lines appeared, confirming my pregnancy, tears blurred my vision, but they refused to fall. I couldn’t cry or speak. My legs gave out beneath me, and I sank onto the living room floor and hugged my knees tightly to my chest; I stared blankly ahead, unable to fathom what this meant for my life.

I remained in that position until my dad returned home.

“Honey, I got you some pies from—” His words stopped mid-sentence when he spotted me. He crouched down and lifted my chin to meet his worried eyes.

“Are you alright, Sav?”

I blinked back tears, let him guide me to the chair, and then sat across from me.

“You're always sad. Everyone has moved on. You need to as well,” he said softly.

His words hit a nerve, and I looked away. Shame filled me, threatening to consume me.

“I’m pregnant,” I whispered, barely audible.

My dad’s body went stiff as if all movement had been drained from him. His face turned ghostly pale. Slowly, he sank back into his chair and gripped the armrests tightly. The heavy stretched between us as if the pregnancy news had sucked out the air. 

“We barely have enough as it is,” he muttered after a long silence. “How are we supposed to feed another mouth? You're just twenty. Who would want to marry a rejected pregnant woman?”

My dad's fear was valid. Unlike other creatures, pregnancy for werewolves carried a deadly risk—a 50/50 chance of survival if we chose to abort. It wasn’t a decision to be made lightly. He wasn’t just disappointed about the pregnancy but the dangerous implications of what might come next. That knowledge cut the guilt even deeper. 

I had failed him.

A surge of strength washed over me. I knelt beside him, taking his hand to stop him from overthinking.

“I’ll figure this out, Dad. I’ll take care of myself,” I promised, though I didn't even believe myself. 

He scoffed, pulling his hand away. “You think raising a child on your own is easy? Look at you—you can barely keep yourself together, and now you’re adding a baby into the mix? Newsflash, Savannah, bills don't pay themselves: I’m not a bottomless ATM. I don't even have enough to restock my store.”

His words hit me hard, leaving a sharp pain in my chest. I stumbled back to my seat, determined to shake off the despair and take action.

A few days later, the healer confirmed my pregnancy and administered potions to support my health. Unfortunately, she spread the news to the pack.

Despite his attempts to shield me, I became an outcast, and even my dad grew bitter under the strain.

"You have to remember who he was," he pressed one night, breaking his usual brooding silence. "Did you see his face? His pack? Anything? Or were you too busy making terrible decisions to notice?"

I shook my head, silent.

“I’m leaving,” I said after a long pause.

He looked at me, shocked. “What?”

“I can’t stay here, Dad. I need to find work, make money, and raise this child away from all of this. I'll return when things get better.”

Sadness passed through his eyes for a brief moment, softening his face.He didn’t say a word, but how his shoulders slumped told me he understood.

He knew I was right—there was no other choice. This was the only way forward.