Chapter 2

I sat down beneath a tree by the trail and unrolled the parchment. The first sheet was the missing page, and the authorizing signature scrawled across it belonged to Jason. Even though I had anticipated it, the sight tore through my heart like claws. Jason's gentle, comforting voice seemed to echo in my ears. What had he been thinking back then? Did he feel even a shred of remorse? Or had he been laughing at me all along?

I unfurled the second piece of parchment. It was an official copy of a pup registry. My chest clenched violently. In the column labeled Father, there it was: Jason. I compared the two signatures side by side. They matched stroke for stroke. One signature had severed my chance at motherhood; the other had claimed him as a father. Tears spilled over without restraint, and raw hatred surged through my veins.

I sat outside for a long time before finally walking home. Margaret was resting beside the hearth. The moment she saw me, she barked orders for me to cook dinner. Because of my supposed infertility, I had always carried a mountain of guilt, once even pushing myself to cook over an open fire while burning with a fever of a hundred and four. But this time, I flatly refused.

Seeing that she could no longer order me around, Margaret immediately rushed over to Robert’s memorial shrine, wailing loudly that my barrenness was ending their bloodline and crying that Jason refused to cast me out. For seven years, I had listened to this identical tirade day in and day out. Every single time, I had felt swallowed by shame, eternally grateful to my mate for not abandoning me. Now, watching her dramatic performance, a cold thought crossed my mind: Did she know she already had an older grandson out there?

Perhaps because I stared at her for too long with unblinking eyes, Margaret couldn't keep up the crying act. Instead, she dispatched someone to fetch Jason. Ignoring her entirely, I turned and walked into the bedroom. I searched every corner thoroughly, but found no trace of my ritual treatment logs. I had undergone three fertility ceremonies, all deemed failures. Whenever I had asked to see the documentation, Jason always claimed he hid them so I wouldn't feel heartbroken. Back then, I had believed him and felt touched. Looking back, it was nothing but a sickening farce.

I lay on the bed with my eyes closed, completely drained of energy. Before long, Jason pushed the door open. He naturally stepped up to my side and leaned down to kiss my cheek. I turned my head away, dodging him. He didn't mind and simply said, "Feeling any better? Come eat dinner first." He reached out to pull me up.

Staring at the hand extended toward me, I felt an overpowering urge to scream the truth in his face. But I couldn't. Not yet. There were still loose ends to uncover, and I couldn't afford to startle the prey. I placed my hand in his obediently and allowed him to lead me out.

After dinner, Jason knelt on one knee before me, gazing up with eyes full of tenderness. "Sarah, you just recovered, and I didn't want to burden you, but our pack truly can't hold on much longer."

"What's wrong?" I asked, playing along.

"Neighboring packs banded together and cut off our hunting grounds, and our allied packs have suspended all aid. The pack is on the brink of collapse."

Before I could reply, Margaret piped up with venom, "Why do you think our allies stopped their support? It's all because you can't bear a pup!"

"Mom, this isn't Sarah's fault." He turned back to me. "They evaluated my standing and saw I have no heir. Believing our bloodline has no future, they severed aid the moment trouble started. Sarah, this pack is my life's work. I can't watch it fall apart."

Indeed, Alpha Jason held complete control over this pack, and I had never doubted his leadership before.

"If there’s no heir, just adopt one! There’s always a way!" Margaret’s loud voice rang out again.

"She's right, Sarah. Can we adopt a pup from outside the pack for now? Once we have an heir on paper, our allies will resume their aid." His gaze was filled with pleading and desperate sorrow, but I could no longer see truth in any of it.

"I'm tired," I said, casting my gaze down.

"All right, get some rest, Sarah. We'll talk later. I'll figure something out."