Dr. IchikaThe hospital was silent, the kind of silence that weighed heavily after a long, exhausting day. I sat at my desk, staring at the phone. In front of me was the crumpled piece of paper where Amber had hesitantly scribbled her father’s contact information earlier in the session. It had taken days of gentle nudging to get her to share it, and even then, I could see the conflict in her eyes.She didn’t trust him. That much was obvious.I took a deep breath, dialing the number before I could overthink it. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a gruff voice answered.“Hello?”“Mr. Queen?” I asked, keeping my tone professional. “This is Dr. Ichika Kirishima. I’m calling from Hunter Valley Medical.”“What’s this about?” he asked, his voice sharp and impatient.“It’s about your daughter, Amber,” I began carefully. “She’s currently under my care as a patient. I’m her therapist.”There was a pause. “Amber?” he repeated, his tone flat.“Yes,” I confirmed. “She was admi
AmberFor the first time in a long while, I had something to look forward to. Every time Dr. Ichika walked through the door with her kind smile and warm presence, the gray walls of my world seemed to brighten, even if just a little. She brought food I could actually stomach—soft, flavorful meals that felt like the only good thing in my life right now.More than that, she made me feel… safe. Every second she spent with me was like a barrier between me and the nightmares that constantly clawed at the edges of my mind. When she was around, I didn’t feel like I was falling apart. She made me feel strong, even if I didn’t deserve it.But the nightmares didn’t care.Every time I closed my eyes, I was dragged back into that hell. I saw distorted faces sneering down at me, their mouths twisted in cruel mockery. Slimy hands pressed against my skin, suffocating me, and their overpowering scents made me gag even in my sleep. The pain—the searing, excruciating pain—echoed through my body, as real
AmberThe warmth in her voice soothed me just enough to keep my legs moving. We walked up a flight of stairs and down a quiet hallway before she stopped in front of a door. “This is your room, Amber,” she said, opening it.I stepped inside hesitantly, my breath catching as I took in the sight of the room. It was massive—far bigger than anything I’d ever experienced. The walls were painted in soft pastel hues that seemed to radiate warmth, and the bed in the center of the room was covered in a luxurious white comforter that looked impossibly soft. A plush rug sprawled across the polished wooden floors, and the window was enormous, letting sunlight pour in and casting a golden glow over everything.A chandelier hung delicately from the ceiling, its crystals sparkling like stars. There was a vanity table in one corner, complete with a mirror framed in gold, and a small seating area with a cozy armchair and side table near the window. The scent of fresh flowers drifted from a vase on the
AmberThe moment I felt the bond open up, I froze. My heart skipped a beat, my breath caught in my throat, and a sickening wave of dread washed over me.Then it hit me—Rayne’s emotions. They weren’t subtle or soft. They slammed into me like a tidal wave: raw, undiluted hatred and malice. It was so strong, so venomous, I could barely breathe under its weight. My body trembled, and my mind raced as the feelings seeped into every fiber of my being.He hates me. He loathes me.I panicked, shutting down my side of the bond as quickly as I could, cutting off the flood of emotions before they could drown me completely. My hand trembled as I pressed it against the wall, trying to steady myself, but nothing could stop the suffocating weight in my chest.My own mate.The realization clawed at me, sharp and relentless. My own mate hated me with such ferocity that it left me breathless. Why? What had I done to deserve this? My mind spiraled, and the thought emerged like a dark shadow in my mind:
AmberDr. Ichika’s eyes darkened with concern, but she didn’t interrupt.“Those horrible Alphas kidnapped me,” I continued, my voice shaking. “They dragged me to an abandoned building. They… they…”The words wouldn’t come. My throat felt like it was closing up, and my chest heaved with sobs.“You don’t have to say it,” Dr. Ichika said softly, her voice full of understanding.I nodded, clutching the tissue like it was a lifeline. “It was so brutal, so excruciating that I passed out. I thought I was going to die. But someone must have found me and brought me to the hospital. I don’t even know who.”The room fell silent except for my ragged breathing. Dr. Ichika let me cry, her presence steady and comforting.When I finally calmed down, she spoke. “Amber, what happened to you was horrific, and no one should ever have to endure what you did. But you’re still here. You survived. And that tells me just how strong you are.”I wiped my tears, my chest still aching. “But the bond… It’s always
Rayne I was worried about Reed. I had every reason to be, he had never behaved like this before. After that phone call two weeks ago, I hadn't heard from him again despite trying to contact him nonstop. For whatever reason, he refused to go home and his mum was getting worried because he hadn't reached out to her once and his phone was constantly on voicemail.I knew I hurt him deeply and he had every right to be mad at me but making his family worry was going a little overboard. I was ready to write another long ass apology message that would probably be left on read just like the rest, when my phone suddenly buzzed with a new notification. It was a message from Reed. Room 807, Grand Haven Hotel. That was it. No greeting, no explanation, just an address. I didn't think twice, I grabbed my car keys and got into my car, quickly finding the location of the hotel on my GPS and driving there. The hotel was pretty far from his home, a place I could have never guessed he could be hidi
RayneI exhaled sharply, my body thrumming with frustration, guilt, relief—all tangled together. “I just want us back,” I admitted. “I want you, Reed. Only you.” I looked into his eyes, searching for something—anything that would anchor me.Reed’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile that sent a shiver down my spine. “Oh, Rayne…” He reached up, his fingers brushing my jaw. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine. I would never let you go. Not even if it kills me.” And then he pulled me down. Our lips met in a crash of heat and desperation. I groaned into the kiss, cupping his face as he tangled his fingers in my hair. The taste of whiskey lingered on his tongue, intoxicating, but all I cared about was the way he melted against me. The way he fit perfectly in my arms, like he was made for me. Reed let out a soft whimper as I deepened the kiss, tilting my head to claim him fully. His body pressed against mine, warm and pliant. I slid my hands down his sides, feeling the way
Rayne “That's it baby, hump my hand. Take it in like a bitch in heat, my little cockslut. Let me hear you, sweetheart. I'm gonna make you scream my name. Your voice, your moans, your whimpers— they all belong to me. You're gonna make those sounds only for me, is that clear, baby girl?”He nodded and I smacked his ass hard with my free hand, the sound reverberating around the room.“Use your words. I wanna hear you say who you belong to.” I growled.“All my… All my sounds are for you, I belong to you Alpha. Only you.” He admitted bashfully and I resumed fucking him with my fingers. He mewls.“Want your cock. Alpha… please, please fuck me. I'll be your good little Omega, just fill me up and fuck me stupid.” He begged prettily, shaking his ass like a whore and who was I to refuse him?I freed my cock from my pants. I was rock hard with excitement, hot and throbbing and so ready to bury all of me in Reed's sweet hole.I withdrew my fingers from his hole and he whined, his rim clenching a
RayneHer words stung.Not just because they were loud or furious, but because they were true.I stood frozen, every syllable she threw at me carving straight through the fog of my anger, slicing deeper than anything had in years.She’d gone through all of it alone.The pregnancy. The birth. The newborn stage.And where had I been?Not even aware it was happening.And that fact—the brutal, ugly reality—made something inside me buckle.Because everyone knew how dangerous and agonizing pregnancy could be for lone Omegas. Their bodies weren’t designed to handle the full term without an Alpha’s support. Without that steady stream of pheromones to ease the symptoms, reduce the pain, and protect both mother and child.Amber had survived it without me.Without the safety net I should have provided. Without the warmth of our bond. Without the chemical anchor that would’ve soothed her nerves and her body. I hadn't been there to calm her when the hormones hit like waves, when her skin hurt from
RayneI had the whole thing memorized.Every single word I planned to say to her.I even practiced my tone— respectful, measured. Not too soft, not too proud. I wasn’t here to dredge up the past. I wasn’t here to ask questions or start a conversation that would lead nowhere. I was here to do one thing.Say thank you.I owed her that.So here I was in front of her office door with a bouquet of lilies and soft pink tulips, buzzing with the kind of nervous energy I hadn’t felt since I was a kid. I didn’t even know if she’d accept the flowers. I just remembered she hated money being thrown at her—Goddess, that memory still made my gut twist—and I thought maybe something small and human would carry more weight.The words were ready.Thank you for saving my life. I’ll never forget it. You didn’t owe me anything, and you still chose to help.That was it. Nothing else. I even practiced how to hold the bouquet—softly, humbly, like it was a peace offering, not a bribe.But none of that mattered
AmberFor the most part, I’d done a pretty good job pretending Rayne Hunter didn’t exist.Which was ironic, considering he was recovering in the same hospital where I worked five days a week, twelve hours a day. But I guess that was the trick—if I kept moving, kept busy, kept my head buried in charts and scalpel reports and pre-op consults, I didn’t have time to remember that he was here too.And on the rare occasions when the thought of him did try to creep in—like during a lull between surgeries, or when I passed the room he used to occupy—I shoved it away. Mentally. Emotionally. I threw up a wall and walked the other direction.It wasn’t denial. Not really.It was survival.Eight weeks.That’s how long it had been since I stood over his body on the operating table and chose to save him. Since I stitched him back together, closed his wound, and handed him back to the man he loved.Eight weeks of silence. Of distance.And in those eight weeks, I hadn’t seen his face once.Partly beca
RayneReed busied himself tucking my discharge folder into his messenger bag, still humming to himself with uncontainable excitement. He was already planning which takeout we’d order tonight, how he’d light candles in the bedroom and sprinkle rose petals on the floor and bed, make it “romantic but relaxing,” his words.But even as I smiled and nodded, there was something clawing at me from the inside.I couldn’t leave without saying thank you.To her.Amber.It didn’t make sense. She’d made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with me—and I respected that. But I couldn’t walk out of this hospital and pretend like she hadn’t saved my life. Like she hadn’t stitched me back together with those tiny, fierce hands of hers.I owed her something. A thank you. That’s all.Just closure.A gesture.Nothing more.“Hey,” I said, interrupting Reed mid-sentence. “Can you do me a favor and go pull the car around? I don’t want to be limping through the parking lot for an hour.”Reed looked up.
RayneOne, two, three, four… Eight weeks.It took just over eight painful, frustrating, mind-numbing weeks to feel human again.Which was ridiculous considering how fast wolves were supposed to heal.But even with accelerated recovery, nothing about this process had been easy. The surgery had left me weak and sore for weeks. My abdomen still pulled uncomfortably when I bent the wrong way. The cast on my leg had only come off a few days ago, but the real hell was physical therapy.The fracture itself had healed—technically. But regaining full function, learning to walk without stiffness, without pain, without limping? That was the real battle.I’d had to use crutches for the first three weeks post-op, even as my wolf protested the entire time. Eden hated the helplessness. Hated the weakness. Hated the slow, humiliating pace of everything.But I did it.Because I had to.Because Reed showed up to every session. Pushed me through the frustration. Carried the parts of me that couldn’t car
AmberIt’s official.The Moon Goddess is a sadistic bitch. There’s absolutely no changing my mind about that.I don’t care how sacred she’s supposed to be. Or how many songs were written about her “divine will.” Screw all of it.It’s the only explanation for why I keep getting dealt such a shitty hand. Again. And again. And again.I had just finished my rounds, clipboard tucked under one arm, my head pounding faintly from hours on my feet. All I wanted was to return to my office, throw back the last of the cold coffee waiting on my desk, and finally breathe.But no.Apparently, peace wasn’t part of the divine plan for me.Because just as I turned the corner past the nurses’ station, I froze.Dead in my tracks.There they were.Rayne and Reed.Reed was pushing Rayne’s wheelchair down the hallway slowly, talking animatedly about something I couldn’t hear. His hands were light on the handles, careful and gentle. Rayne sat back, bandaged and pale, but with that same stupid soft look he alw
Rayne I looked at him.He smiled.He meant it. That was the worst part.It wasn’t a figure of speech.It wasn’t even romantic.It was... unsettling.But I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to turn the moment into another fight. Not when we were just starting to breathe again.Reed seemed to sense my unease because he shifted, his tone softer now.“I’ve been struggling, Rayne. A lot more than I wanted to admit. Being Luna isn’t easy. People expect perfection. Strength. Confidence. And I—I’ve been so damn insecure lately. Every time I see you drift or pull back, it feels like I’m losing you.”I stayed quiet, letting him speak.“That’s why I said what I said. I was overwhelmed. But I shouldn’t have dumped it all on you. I shouldn’t have scared you with the divorce threat. That was... extreme. And manipulative. I know that now.”He took a deep breath.“I’m sorry. Truly.”I nodded slowly.“I swear, if I ever feel that way again, I’ll talk to you. We’ll figure it out together. No more thr
RayneMorning crept in through the blinds like a soft ache behind my eyes. The light wasn’t harsh—more like a warm haze—but it still made my head pound a little harder.I blinked against it, letting my eyes adjust, waiting for the room to settle back into focus.And when it did, I saw him.Reed.Curled up in the plastic chair beside my bed like he’d been there all night. Elbows propped on the edge of the mattress, chin resting on his arms, staring at me with wide, worried eyes.There was no anger in his expression.No hurt. No distance.Just relief.And love.Like the night before had never happened. Like he hadn’t stood in the hallway with fire in his eyes and divorce in his mouth.“Hey,” he said softly, sitting up straighter when he saw my eyes open. “You’re awake.”“Yeah,” I croaked, my voice still raw. “Barely.”His face lit up. “Thank the goddess.”Before I could say anything else, he was fussing—reaching for the cup of water by the bed, checking the blanket, fluffing my pillow l
AmberI stood outside the hospital room door, my hand hovering just above the handle, willing my pulse to slow.The hall was quiet.Too quiet.It gave me too much time to think.To remember.To feel.Don’t do that, I told myself. Don’t feel anything. Not now.This wasn’t personal. This was procedure. Post-operative follow-up. One of a dozen I’d done that week. He was just another patient on my list.I took a breath. Straightened my spine.And walked in.He looked exactly how I left him—only now his eyes were open. Alert. Wild with disbelief.I didn’t flinch when I saw his expression.Didn’t react when his gaze snapped to me like I was a ghost he thought he’d buried seven years ago.He looked pale, bandaged, exhausted. But underneath the bruises and the haze, his shock was unmistakable. It poured off him like heat.And it filled me with something I hadn’t expected—pride.Not the vain kind. The quiet kind. The kind that whispered, You never thought I’d become this, did you?He had writt