Elara's Pov
"Mama, good morning! Are we having breakfast early today?"
Jason's little voice echoed through the hallway, his tiny feet padding across the wooden floor. My four-year-old son stood at the doorway, hair tousled from sleep, rubbing his big brown eyes—the same warm shade as his father's.
We always had breakfast late, together as a family. But today... today was different.
"Yes, breakfast is early today," I said with a smile, gently pinching his chubby cheek.
"Yes, yes!" He laughed, spinning happily before racing down the hallway. His joy filled the house like sunlight, a pure, unadulterated happiness that was contagious.
I sighed, my hand resting instinctively on my stomach—the place where Jason once grew inside me, a secret life, long before I knew he existed. It's been five years since I fled the Blood Moon Pack. Five years since I left, completely unaware that I was four weeks pregnant with the Alpha's son.
I strolled quietly into the kitchen. Dennis stood at the stove, flipping pancakes, while Jason proudly stirred a bowl of batter beside him, a smudge of flour on his nose. Dennis glanced over his shoulder and grinned.
"Morning, sleepyhead. You're up early," he teased gently.
"Couldn't sleep," I murmured, leaning against the cabinet, watching them. My little boy, safe and smiling. A man by my side who cared for us. Peace. Something I'd never thought I'd have.
And yet... beneath the veneer of this hard-won peace, the old terrors still simmered. I still dreamed of that night. Of blood. Of fear. Of running for my life with Jason, a secret life, growing silently in my womb. Even now, the whisper of the forest, the faint scent of rain on earth, could bring it all back.
I closed my eyes... and the memories flooded back.
Flashback – Five Years Ago
Light faded from my eyes, then slowly returned.
"Where... where am I?" I croaked, blinking against the gentle brightness of an unfamiliar ceiling. I lay warm, clean... miraculously alive. My body, though weak and trembling, barely registered the aches. A profound exhaustion had settled over me, dulling every sensation.
A gentle voice answered. "You're awake. Thank the Goddess."
A kind man leaned over me—his hair silver, his glasses slipping down his nose. A doctor. His smile was warm, full of relief.
"I… I made it?" My voice cracked as I tried to sit up, a rush of panic from my last memory—Jessie, the cell, the escape, the pain.
"Easy," he said softly. "You lost a lot of blood. It's a miracle you're still breathing." He handed me a small, folded paper.
My eyes blurred as I read the words, incomprehensible at first. Pregnant. Four weeks. My breath caught, a gasp trapped in my throat.
"No..." I whispered. "No, no... I can't be..."
I didn't want anything tying me to him. Not to Alpha Draco. Not after everything. Not after he'd imprisoned me.
A soft, motherly hand touched my arm gently. I looked up to see an elderly woman by the window, smiling gently. Beside her stood a quiet, older man.
"Don't be afraid, darling," the old woman said, her voice soothing. "The doctor said this baby... perhaps it's meant to be a blessing. A fresh start for you."
I shook my head, swallowing the panic, trying to process the impossible.
"This is my husband, Ed," she said, gesturing to the quiet man by her side. "He can't speak, but his heart is kind. We were leaving the hospital when we found out about your pregnancy. We thought... maybe this child could be our grandchild."
She hesitated, watching me carefully, her gaze devoid of judgment. "If... you don't want the child, we'd gladly take them in. No questions asked. You could go, start fresh somewhere else, leave this behind."
No judgment. No pressure. Just quiet, unconditional kindness. It stunned me, a foreign concept after years of manipulation and demands.
They took me to their home that very day.
Their house was simple, tucked in a far corner of a sleepy suburban neighborhood—isolated, peaceful, a world away from the pack. Mary, the old woman, gave me soft clothes left behind by a former housemaid.
I sipped the warm tea she made, trying to steady my nerves, trying to believe this was real.
"You can stay as long as you need, Elara," Mary said, showing me to the guest room. "No rent. No worry. Just rest. Heal."
The room was the largest I'd ever had. Clean, safe. No iron bars. No cold stone floor. No hidden plots lurking in the shadows.
That night, lying in the soft bed, I curled my hand over my belly—still flat, but not for long.
"I have nothing to offer you," I whispered to the tiny life growing inside me. "But maybe... maybe this kind old couple can give you the love I never had."
I drifted to sleep with a strange warmth in my chest, a fragile spark of something new.
I had run from the pack with only fear in my heart...
But now, I carried something more.
Hope.