Me - Secret Side Piece?! Hell No! I Took Daughter and Got Far Away from You Asshole! novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: A Favor
Morwen gives birth alone, watches her mate kiss another woman in the ward, hears herself called a favor, and orders her daughter's sire line left blank for good.
I labored for twelve hours, and the only person I called was my mate.
Bram picked up on the second ring and said my name softly.
"She's here," I said. "A girl. The daughter you swore you wanted."
The line went quiet.
"Noted," he said. "I'm in a Council meeting. Later."
He hung up.
I lay there with tears running into my ears.
Then I looked at the pup on my chest and made my voice light. "Your dad's busy, little one. He'll come."
Across the ward, the other new mother was on her phone too.
Her name was Pru Wexley, and she was warm to everyone who passed her cot.
"Alpha, you thought of everything," she told the phone. "You packed my bag before I'd even picked a name."
She hung up and smiled at me. "He packed it three months ago. Three colors of burp cloths. He's so careful with us."
Her eyes went to my bedside ledge.
It held a paper cup and my phone.
She stopped smiling. "Oh, honey. Do you want my spare blanket? My Alpha will bring you whatever you need."
I took the blanket.
I did not say that my mate was supposed to be three territories away at a pack summit, or that he had texted me that same lie at breakfast.
After midnight, fast footsteps came down the hall.
Pru shot upright. "That's him."
The door opened, and Bram walked in with white roses and a basket of pears.
Pru held out her arms. "You took forever."
He kissed her on the mouth.
His eyes had been plain brown while he did it.
Then he looked over her shoulder and saw me, and a ring of gold flared around his pupils and held.
I laughed.
It came out loud and ugly, and then it turned into crying.
A card stuck out of the roses. It said: You did so well, Pru. Thank you for giving me Hugo.
Hugo.
He had picked a name for her son.
When I was pregnant, Bram used to lay his palm on my belly. "If it's a girl, Lark," he'd say. "A song at first light. I want her loud even when the world wants her quiet."
Now he stood there swaying with Pru's boy against his shoulder, gentle in a way that used to be mine.
Lark woke and cried, thin and hoarse.
Bram heard it. His eyes did not drop.
Pru looked from him to me. "Bram, who is that?"
He turned his face to the wall. "Someone who did me a favor once."
Six years as his mate. Twelve hours in labor.
And I was a favor.
I had pawned my mother's gold cuff, the only thing she left me, to pay a Blackfang blood-debt for him. That night he swore he would build me a den fit for a Luna.
There had never been a room in it for me.
A healer came in with two birth records and stopped at Pru's cot first.
"Alpha Kestrel, I need you to confirm Hugo's sire line."
Bram signed without a pause.
The healer turned to the second record, and her pen stopped. She looked at me, then at him.
"Miss Alder's form names you as her pup's sire too. I need your confirmation, or the line stays empty."
Pru went white. "You fathered her pup as well?"
Bram said nothing.
My fingers dug into Lark's blanket. She was still crying.
He finally looked at her.
"Leave it blank," he said.
Hugo whimpered, and Bram spun around to pat his back. "Quiet now. Don't wake Pru."
The healer handed me my record.
Dam: Morwen Alder.
Sire: blank.
My daughter's father stood across the room holding another woman's son.
All through the pregnancy I had pictured him holding her first.
The healer touched Lark's cheek and frowned. "Her blood sugar is dropping. Did anyone bring formula?"
My mouth opened. Nothing came out.
I had not forgotten. Bram had promised to bring everything.
Pru's bag sat open by her cot, full of bottles and matching swaddles, all new.
Bram hesitated. Then he reached into it and took out a tin of formula.
Pru caught his wrist. Her eyes filled. "Hugo's stomach is delicate. The healer said no switching brands."
Bram stood there with the tin in his hand.
Then he put it back.
"Morwen, the ward keeps an emergency supply," he said. "Use that."
"She's your daughter," I said.
"I know."
Lark shook in my arms and screamed.
I had signed the pain-herb consent alone. I had been rolled into the birthing den alone. I had made the call alone.
And now I was the one making trouble.
I held the record out to the healer.
"Leave the sire line blank," I said. "Not for now. For good."
Bram opened his mouth, and nothing came out.
The gold in his eyes guttered and went dark.
He grabbed the bed rail to stay on his feet.
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