Chapter 1

The agonizing abdominal cramps drove me to seek out Healer Richard, suspecting a flare-up of an old internal injury. While grinding dried herbs, his hands suddenly froze. He glanced up at me, hesitating as if wrestling with his own words.

"What is it?"

He hesitated for another second before lowering his voice. "Luna Sarah... inside your body, there are traces of a lingering herbal fertility seal."

A seal? How could that be? I was supposed to be barren. To conceive, I had endured seven years of drinking bitter medicinal tonics, suffering endless physical and emotional torment.

"Richard, are you sure you're not mistaken?"

He set the medicine jar down and pointed toward the faint marking on my lower abdomen. "I wouldn't make such an assumption lightly, but the remnants of this seal are undeniably real. Did you really... know nothing about this?"

I stared intently at the faded mark, my fingertips trembling uncontrollably. For seven whole years, Margaret had berated and shamed me for failing to bear an heir, and I had swallowed every drop of humiliation. Staring at a seal that should never have existed, the brutal truth hit me like a blow to the chest: I was never infertile. Someone simply never wanted me to carry a child.

My palm pressed firmly against my lower belly, right over the hidden seal. Seven years ago, right after Jason and I mated, healers had claimed I was barren and that an old internal wound had flared up inside me. Back then, I had looked at Jason in utter panic, and he had gently consoled me: *Don't be afraid, Sarah. We'll heal your injuries first. I will always stay by your side.* Over the next seven years, Jason faithfully accompanied me to Richard’s healing den countless times.

Snapping out of my daze, I asked Richard to break the seal. Once the procedure was complete, I lay back on the soft fur pelt. Just then, a runner sent by Jason arrived.

"Sarah, where are you? Alpha Jason has been looking everywhere for you."

"I'm with Richard, treating an injury," I murmured.

Through the runner's link, I could hear Jason’s flustered voice filtering in: "Richard's place? Which clinic?" Realizing he had sounded overly alarmed, he quickly adjusted his tone. "What injury? Are you not feeling well?"

Unable to untangle the storm of emotions inside me, I gave a brief reply and dismissed the messenger.

Moments later, the tent flap was thrust aside, and Jason strode in briskly. "You treated an old wound? Why didn't you go to Richard's main lodge? He knows your condition and could have taken better care of you." His eyes swept over me, reading my expression. Clutching the carved bone amulet in my palm, I kept my face blank and offered him a faint smile. "The pain was unbearable, so I just stopped at the closest den."

Just then, Margaret pushed her way inside. Overhearing my words, she snapped loudly, "It’s just an old ache, and you can’t even handle that? If you can't endure this, how could you ever survive childbirth? Oh, right—you probably can't even get pregnant anyway."

"Mom, drop it. Sarah just had her wound treated and isn't feeling well." Jason poured me a cup of water. Once he confirmed I hadn't uncovered anything about the seal, he made a hasty excuse to leave. "Sarah, the pack’s game supply has been running low lately. I need to arrange the border patrols. I'll have Mom stay here to look after you." I nodded, watching his broad back disappear behind the entrance flap.

"I don't have time to wait hand and foot on a barren hen," Margaret sneered, turning on her heel and leaving as well. Silence reclaimed the tent, and I let out a long, quiet sigh.

Three days later, my strength returned. Over those three days, Jason and Margaret barely visited, while Lily from the neighboring tent occasionally dropped by to check on me. Instead of returning to my home, I headed straight for the archives cave where Richard stored treatment records—the place where my original wound had been documented. Making sure Richard was off duty, I walked inside. The archive keeper pulled my file without suspicion.

I flipped through page after page. Seven years of swallowing bitter herbs, undergoing ritual cleansings, and enduring treatments. Yet the file contained only a few sparse pages of routine checkups. When I flipped to the very first page, what met my eyes wasn't a treatment plan for an injury at all—it was the record of a fertility sealing ceremony!

My hands shook uncontrollably. What a sick, twisted joke. Seven years of suffering, seven years of suffocating guilt, only to find out my right to motherhood had been stripped away by human design. A bitter laugh escaped my lips, accompanied by hot tears streaming down my cheeks. After a long while, I wiped my face and moved to secure the evidence, only to realize the page bearing the authorizing signature was missing. Without raising the keeper's suspicion, I closed the folder, expressed my thanks, and walked out.

The moment I stepped out of the cave, I dispatched a runner to Kevin, a Beta from a neighboring pack and a trusted childhood friend. After I explained the situation, he replied swiftly, asking me to wait. Soon enough, the runner returned with a rolled pelt parchment.

"Sarah, the missing page is attached at the back."

"Thank you, Kevin."

Kevin paused through the link before adding gently, "Your mate wiped his own records so thoroughly that I got curious and pulled a background check under his name. I found something else, and I've sent it along with the file. Brace yourself, Sarah. Call me if you need anything."

"I will..."