Bedding the ugly Luna

Alpha Nathan’s POV.

“Nathan, wake up!”  

The sharp cry of Clara’s voice tore me from the heavy weight of sleep. At first, I thought it was only a nightmare dragging me out of rest, but when my eyes blinked open, I saw her in the Dark. My Luna sat upright with her face twisted in visible pain.  

Her hands clutched at her stomach like she was holding on for dear life. She was only a couple of months pregnant, but in that moment, she looked like she was standing on the edge of life itself. Her face was pale, lips trembling, and her breathing came in shallow gasps that rattled my nerves.  

I instantly pushed myself upright, my heart hammering. “Clara, tell me what’s happening. Are you okay? Please, talk to me.” My own voice was shaking even though I tried to keep it steady, and I hated the helplessness I heard in it.  

She shook her head violently, hair sticking to her damp forehead. Her eyes were wide and wet with tears. “Nathan… I think… I think I’m losing the baby again.” Her words broke apart, fragile and uneven. She sucked in a breath, then whimpered, “Please, help me. Do something! Don’t let this happen again.”  

I reached for her, but my hands hesitated midair. My chest tightened as though someone had wrapped chains around me. For a moment, all I could do was stare at her face, seeing the fear of a mother who already knew her child’s life was slipping away.  

I threw back the blanket, and my breath caught in my throat. The sheets were stained dark with blood, far too much blood. My stomach sank, and my knees nearly buckled beneath me.  

A sound rose in my chest—half a growl, half a cry—but I forced it down because I couldn’t fall apart in front of her. Not now. Not again.  

This wasn’t the first time. It was the fifth miscarriage. Each one had carved wounds in us, deeper than anyone outside our bond could ever understand. For years, we had prayed, begged, and tried to create life, hoping for a child who would carry my bloodline and someday lead the pack. Every time, that dream had been stolen from us.  

I wanted to tell her it wasn’t her fault. I wanted to whisper that nothing between us would change. But a cruel voice at the back of my mind hissed with resentment, frustration, and blame. I hated that voice, but it lived inside me. And in my darkest moments, it almost convinced me.  

“Why us?” I whispered under my breath, not even sure if she heard me.  

Without thinking, I scooped Clara into my arms. She felt so fragile, like a bird with broken wings, and I was terrified she might shatter if I held her too tightly.  

I stormed out of the room, my voice booming through the hallways of the pack house. “Get me the doctor! Right now! And bring Ethan!”  

Ethan was my Beta, my second in command, the one man I could rely on when the world was falling apart. I didn’t want to announce to the entire house that Clara was losing the baby again, but the panic in my voice told the story anyway.  

Pack members froze in the halls, their eyes wide with sympathy and fear. Some bowed their heads. Others scrambled to do as I ordered, feet pounding against the wooden floors.  

Clara buried her face against my chest. Her sobs were muffled, but I felt them vibrating against me. “Don’t let me lose this one, Nathan. Please…”  

I clenched my jaw so hard I thought it might break. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. Anything to keep myself from breaking with her.  

The doctor arrived within minutes, his black leather bag clutched in his hands. His eyes flickered to me briefly before he rushed past, heading straight to Clara.  

I laid her gently back on the bed, my hands trembling even though I tried to hide it. The doctor bent over her, checking her quickly, pulling items out of his bag. His face was focused, but I could see the strain in his eyes.  

I stood a few feet away, my fists clenched at my sides. My shoulders were locked tight, like stone. My lips moved in a silent prayer to the Moon Goddess, begging her not to take this child the way she had taken the others.  

But deep down, I already knew. I had felt it the moment I saw the blood.  

Minutes dragged out like hours until finally, the doctor stepped back. He wiped his hands on a cloth, his shoulders sagging. The silence in the room was louder than any scream.  

He looked at me, then looked away again, unable to meet my eyes. “Alpha Nathan, I… I’m so—”  

I cut him off sharply. “You’re sorry,” I snapped bitterly. My jaw tightened, my voice low and hard.  

I stepped closer and patted his shoulder roughly, more to dismiss him than to comfort. “Don’t be. It isn’t your fault. It’s just fate. My cursed fate.”  

He nodded once, eyes lowered, then slipped quietly out of the room. The heavy door clicked shut behind him, leaving the silence even heavier than before. The sound of Clara’s soft crying filled the space, stabbing at my chest.  

I turned away, my emotions boiling, my thoughts a storm I couldn’t control.  

Ethan cleared his throat softly, stepping closer so that only I would hear. His voice was low, cautious, like he knew I was on the edge.  

“Nathan,” he said, “you’re carrying too much. You need space. Go to the river house for a few days. Clear your head, get away from this pain, even if only for a short time.”  

His suggestion lingered in the air, tempting and dangerous.  

I stared at him, thinking. The river house was far enough away to breathe, far enough to let me forget for a while. And honestly, I was so angry, so drained, I didn’t trust myself to sit beside Clara without saying things I could never take back.  

I finally nodded. “Fine. That’s a good idea. Prepare the car. You’re coming with me.”  

My voice was steady, but inside I was splintering.  

Ethan bowed his head respectfully, but his sharp eyes betrayed understanding. He had been my best friend since childhood. He knew me better than anyone. He knew the truth—that part of me secretly longed for another chance, another mate, another woman who could give me the family I dreamed of.  

But I was Alpha. Duty and loyalty were everything. I couldn’t just walk away from Clara. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.  

Before leaving, I walked back into Clara’s chamber.  

She lay in bed, surrounded by maids who tried to comfort her, but her tears wouldn’t stop. Her face was wet, her pillow soaked.  

When I sat beside her, she reached out immediately, gripping my hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Nathan,” she cried. “I’ll try again. Just… please, don’t leave me. Promise me you won’t leave.”  

Her words shredded me.  

I leaned closer, wiping her tears with my thumb. I forced a smile, though it didn’t reach my eyes. “I’ll never leave you,” I whispered, pressing my lips to her trembling hand.  

She searched my face desperately, looking for hope.  

But before she could see through me, I stood up.  

“Where are you going?” she asked quickly, her voice shaking.  

“I need to check on the pack,” I muttered flatly. My face was unreadable, my heart locked away. “Just for a couple of days. Take care of yourself.”  

“But… I need you here,” she whispered. Her voice cracked, and I froze in the doorway.  

I wanted to run back to her, to hold her and promise her the world, but I couldn’t keep pretending. I had spent my entire life dreaming of a house full of children, laughter echoing through every corridor. That dream slipped further from me every time Clara lost another child.  

The bitterness was too much.  

I looked back at her one last time. “Take care of yourself, Clara… my Luna.”  

I let the word Luna hang heavy in the air, reminding myself of the bond, reminding myself of the duty I couldn’t escape. Then I walked out, leaving her cries behind me.  

Hours later, the car carried me down the winding road to the river house. The trees grew taller and thicker as we drove, the sound of rushing water faint in the distance. I thought maybe the solitude would heal me. Maybe the stillness would ease my anger and emptiness.  

But what I found there was something I never expected.  

Near the riverbank, lying on the dirt as though she had no home, was a she-wolf I had never seen before. Her clothes were torn and filthy, her hair matted like it hadn’t been washed in years. She smelled of rot, mud, and fish, but there was something about her that made me freeze in place.  

One of her eyes was striking gold, the other piercing blue. Together, they held a wild, dangerous beauty that I couldn’t look away from.  

I never imagined that my hope, my chance at happiness, might come from a homeless she-wolf sleeping on the ground by the river.  

But in that moment, as she lifted those mismatched eyes to meet mine, something deep inside me stirred—something I thought had been long dead.