Page 47 of Abandoned By My Alpha Husband

The rain grew heavier, hammering my face. I could barely see. Everything blurred. I bent forward, one hand shielding my belly, the other still uselessly beating against the door.

"Mother—"

My voice nearly drowned in the rain. But Mother must have heard. I was her daughter. We had the kinship sense all wolves shared. Did she not want to see me?

I pounded harder. I don't know how long passed. Just when my strength was giving out, I saw a maid helping Mother out. They only stood under the eaves of the estate, expressionless, watching me.

I reached out. "Mother—"

"How dare you show your face here?"

What?

My hand froze in midair.

"You've been disowned." Her voice still had no inflection, like reading a prepared notice. "You couldn't even manage to please your husband. You got yourself thrown out. Hale canceled the alliance with us. You've disgraced us completely. Get lost."

Deep inside, my wolf pushed itself up. It nudged my chest with its head. Go.

"I'm your daughter!" I bit out. "Why—"

"You were a mistake from my youth." She frowned. "Nothing more. You were just my pawn. Now you're useless."

Useless.

It was all lies. Maternal love. Making amends. All fake.

The rain stopped completely.

I didn't know where I'd walked to. I sat down under a tree, surrounded by other homeless people. They didn't bother with me. Only a few lifted their eyelids briefly, then closed them again.

My belongings sat beside me, along with the case with my tools. My fingers paused on my abdomen. Through the soaked fabric, beneath that layer of gauze, that faint warmth still existed. My wolf lay beside that warmth, head resting there. I leaned back against the wall, looking down at my hands—grayish nails, knuckles gone white from the rain. Then I gently placed my hand on my belly, covering that layer of fabric.

"It's just us now," I said softly. My wolf didn't answer. We curled together, the wolf protecting that small thing. Very quiet. I wouldn't give it to anyone else. Never again.

Chapter Fifteen

Elena

I rented an attic room.

The window faced north—bad light, cramped space, the occasional bug scuttling across the floor—but the rent was cheap. I pulled out my bottles and jars from the wooden crate, lined them up on an old table, and started making fragrance products again. After the magic wore off, my scent came back. Lily and bay leaf seeped from under my skin, faint as lingering fog.

I started over.

I took photos, edited the lighting to make them look cute and pretty, and tried new designs. Orders trickled in. My life steadied. But I'd touch my belly and know it wouldn't last—the pregnancy hormones would make it grow, bit by bit.

Sure enough, one day I couldn't stand the smells anymore.

Rose oil reeked like rust. Sandalwood mixed with something raw and fishy. Mint was tolerable at first, but eventually turned my stomach too. I bent over the sink, dry-heaving, fingers gripping the edge until my knuckles went white. My wolf stirred inside, curled next to that warm spot in my belly. She lifted herself up, brushed her tail across my lower back—asking if I was okay. I straightened, splashed cold water on my face, and nodded.

It was a lie.

Orders slowed. I couldn't finish a batch in one go anymore—had to stop, step outside for air, over and over. Progress crawled. Quality dropped. After limping through one more month, I closed the crate and shoved it back under the table.

I went back to my old line of work. Waitressing.

I found a restaurant. Before the interview, I cleaned myself up, used cheap makeup I'd scrounged together for a simple look.