The Luna You Betrayed Is No Longer Yours

_Alaric’s POV_

The moment the fighting stopped, I found Rowena in the crowd of fighters gathering near the clearing where she’d defeated Drake. She was standing, talking with Pierre, blood on her side from where Drake’s might’ve clawed her, but she was alive, upright, and victorious.

Then right before my eyes and everyone else, her legs gave out.

I was across the clearing before I even registered moving, catching her before she hit the ground, her body suddenly limp against mine.

"Rowena." My voice came out broken, panic clawing up my throat faster than I could control it. "Rowena, look at me."

Her eyes fluttered, they were so unfocused, and my heart stopped entirely.

"The baby," I said, my hands shaking as I checked her over, searching for any sign of what was wrong. "Something’s wrong. Get the doctor, now, NOW."

Kasper was already shouting for our pack doctor, and people scattered to clear a path. I carried Rowena myself, refusing to let anyone else take her, my mind spinning through every worst possibility as I moved.

"She’s exhausted," Kyra’s voice said suddenly, coming from Rowena’s own mouth even though her eyes were closed. "Just exhausted, Alaric. I used too much of my strength healing her wound and fighting at the same time. The baby is fine. I promise you, the baby is fine."

I didn’t fully believe it until the doctor confirmed it herself, sitting beside Rowena in my own bedroom at the Packhouse, her hands touching all parts of Rowena as she checked over both of them.

"Her heartbeat is steady," the doctor said. "The baby’s heartbeat is steady too, strong even. She’s simply pushed her body past its limits tonight. Between the poisoning, the healing, the shift, and the battle, any wolf would have collapsed. She needs rest. That’s all, My Alpha.”

I sat down hard on the edge of the bed beside Rowena, my whole body shaking with relief I hadn’t let myself feel until that exact moment. I pressed my forehead against her hand and just breathed, letting the terror drain out of me slowly.

"You scared me," I whispered, even though she couldn’t hear me. "Don’t do that to me again."

She stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, and I stayed right there beside her, unwilling to move even an inch, for the rest of the night.

.

.

.

.

.

.

_Ezekiel’s POV_

The first thing I was aware of was sound, voices that distant at first, then closer, and finally a sound of someone breathing right beside me.

The second thing I was aware of was pain, deep and constant, but distant too, like it belonged to someone else’s body.

I opened my eyes slowly, the room was too bright, and I blinked several times before anything came into focus.

Okayy a hospital room, noted. With walls, and machines beeping somewhere near my head.

And lastly, Pierre, asleep in a chair beside my bed, his hand still wrapped around mine.

"Pierre," I said, or tried to. My voice came out barely a whisper, my throat dry as hell and so raw it felt horrible.

His eyes snapped open instantly, and the second he saw me looking at him, he made a sound I’d never heard him make before, something between a sob and a laugh.

I couldn’t tell, he was just a weird man.

"Ezekiel." He was on his feet immediately, leaning over me, his hands shaking as they hovered over my face like he was afraid to touch me and afraid not to. "You’re awake. Goddess, you’re actually awake."

"How long have I been asleep for? I managed to ask as I stared at him with a smile.

"Days," Pierre said, his voice breaking. "You’ve been out for days. I thought—" He stopped, pressing his lips together hard, tears already streaming down his face. "I thought I was going to lose you."

I’d never seen Pierre cry like this, not once in all the months I’d known him, not through every fight we’d ever had, every stupid argument about nothing that mattered.

"Don’t cry," I said weakly. "Makes it hard to make fun of you later."

He laughed between the crying and it warmed my heart.

He moved to press his forehead against mine carefully, mindful of whatever wires and tubes were still attached to me. "I hate you," he whispered. "I hate you so much for scaring me like that."

"I love you too," I said, and felt him go still against me.

"Say that again," he said with hopeful eyes as if waiting for me to say it for so long.

"I love you," I repeated. "I’ve said it countless times, man. Why are you surprised?” I teased.

"I love you," Pierre said back immediately, fiercely, like he’d been waiting his whole life to say it and hadn’t realized it until I nearly died. "I love you, and I am never letting you scare me like that again.”

Over the next hour, he told me everything. Kyle’s betrayal, the poisoning, Rowena’s disappearance and rescue, Drake’s attack, the battle at the border. I listened, stunned, piecing together how much had happened while I lay unconscious, how close everyone had come to losing everything.

"You fought for me," I said with a wink, once he’d finished. "You told me you nearly killed Kyle over what he did to me."

"I would have," Pierre groaned. "I wanted to. I stopped myself because Alaric needed him alive, but I wanted to end him for what he did to you."

"You didn’t know you loved me that much huh?" I giggled, repeating what he said he told Rowena.

Pierre’s face flushed realizing he spoke to much.

"It’s okay, I love you." I squeezed his hand as best I could with what little strength I had. "I’m glad you I woke up. I’m glad it took something this stupid for both of us to finally say it."

"Never again," Pierre said. "You’re not allowed to almost die again. I forbid it."

"Duly noted," I said, and managed a small smile.

My father visited later that day, standing at the foot of my bed with an expression I’d rarely seen on him, something like guilt mixed with relief.

"I should have protected you better," he said. "I’ve decided to step down. Your sister will take the title. She’s ready for it, and frankly, after everything that’s happened, I think this family needs someone who can lead without hesitation."

I looked at him, surprised, but too tired to argue. "She’ll do well."

"I know," he said. "And you’ll finally be free to live your life the way you actually want to."

I glanced at Pierre with a smirk, still holding my hand and refusing to let go.