Filed to story: Alpha’s Regret After His Pregnant Luna’s Death (Evelyn & Declan)
He scratched the back of his head, a shy grin spreading across his face. “I read somewhere that new moms need extra nutrition, even after the baby’s born. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I made a bit of everything.”
His earnestness hit me like a wave, a warm and tender feeling rising in my chest. A faint smile tugged at my lips. I never would have guessed that the young intern I’d once helped, the one I’d barely paid any mind to, would be the one to care for me so thoughtfully. It was strange, how life worked, how the lowest points could sometimes lead to the most unexpected places.
I sighed softly, taking a bite of the tender fried egg, savoring the simple comfort of the moment. It was small, but it was enough. This was good, it felt good.
I made a silent promise to myself, to Lana, and to Peter, that one day, I’d find a way to repay him for everything he’d done.
As I chewed, the words came out before I could stop them. “Don’t you have work today?” My voice was familiar, almost maternal in its tone. But the moment the words left my mouth, a stab of regret shot through me. Peter is my landlord now. Why does it still feel so… casual?
But to my relief, he didn’t seem to mind. He just shrugged with easy confidence, answering as if it was nothing.
“I work for a private law firm, mostly behind the scenes. I rarely need to go in. Crawford Group usually only calls me in for short meetings in the afternoons.”
In the mornings, I play basketball or cook… But we’re running low on groceries. I was thinking of going out to pick some things up later. Wanna come along?”
I hesitated for a moment, my mind shifting between the idea of getting groceries and the unexpected sense of comfort I felt with Peter. It had been so long since I’d ventured out, since I’d done something normal, and despite everything, something in me just wanted a piece of that.
“Sure, sounds good,” I finally agreed, the words leaving my mouth easier than I expected.
I flashed him a warm smile, trying to push aside the sharp ache that still lingered from the days before, the remnants of the life I’d left behind.
I turned my attention to Lana, who was contentedly nursing in my arms. She was so small, so fragile, and yet she was everything I needed to hold onto.
I tickled her tiny hand, and she let out a soft gurgle of laughter, her eyes crinkling in delight.
—
The market was a whirlwind of color and noise. Vendors shouted their wares, their voices blending with the sizzling sounds of oil from roadside stalls. The smell of fried food mixed with the earthy scent of fresh produce and spices, the air thick with the lively activities of daily life.
My senses buzzed with the chaos, the chatter, the music, the energy of a thousand people going about their day. My wolf stirred within me, its heightened senses flaring to life, making every sound and scent more vivid than I had ever noticed.
I glanced down at Lana, who had her eyes wide open, taking in the world around her. Her face lit up in a big grin, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. The joy on her face was so pure, so full of wonder. It made the weight of everything else fade just for a moment.
I hadn’t expected such liveliness in this seemingly remote suburban area. The market felt almost out of place here, tucked away among the quiet streets of this neighborhood. It was a surprise, but a welcome one.
Peter caught the look of surprise in my eyes and leaned closer, his voice low and friendly. “This place is near the university district, so it’s a hotspot for students renting cheap apartments. It’s technically the suburbs, but the subway makes it easy to get downtown. Lots of young men from Asterfell also choose to live here and take the subway to work.”
I nodded, understanding now why the street had such a different vibe from what I had expected. The energy, the diversity, it was all new and unfamiliar, and yet somehow familiar at the same time.
We paused at a vegetable stall, the air thick with the earthy scent of fresh produce. Peter casually picked up a pair of plump, ruby-red tomatoes and waved them in front of me.
“Evelyn, do you like tomatoes?” His voice was casual, almost playful, but I could sense the underlying kindness, the effort he was putting into making this day feel like something normal.
I stared at the tomatoes for a moment, my breath catching in my throat. They were so bright, so vivid, their skin smooth and perfect in a way that seemed almost too good to be true.
My eyes watered slightly as memories began to flood back, unbidden.
Evelyn’s POV
Truth be told, I was a picky eater. Always had been. Growing up at my grandmother’s house, I’d often been teased about my finicky tastes. My grandmother, Kate Osbourne was a respected Elder in my pack, The Moonshadow pack.
She had always found my tastes amusing, even if I didn’t at the time. She’d pinch my ear playfully and call me a “little food snob,” but even in those moments, I knew she was just trying to make me laugh.
And I did laugh, though I often stormed off, huffing about some meal I refused to eat. But then, always, Kate would emerge from the kitchen, a plate of tomato dishes in hand, just for me.
They were always sweet and sour, a mixture of flavors that I couldn’t resist. Even in my bratty moods, I would eat them with gusto, savoring every bite.
But then the prison years came. And all that… all the delicacy, was gone. That version of me hadn’t survived the cellblock. In the year and a half I spent behind those walls, I learned to choke down food I would’ve turned my nose up at before.
The tomatoes in Peter’s hand, so bright and beautiful, made a lump rise in my throat. I had been so different back then. The softness of who I once was, who I’d been allowed to be, was slipping through my fingers, a memory I could no longer hold on to.
More tears burned in my eyes, but I blinked them back. I couldn’t let myself fall apart here.
I watched Peter freeze, startled by change in demeanor. His eyes flicked to mine, and I could feel the awkwardness settle like a thick fog between us.
He fumbled for a tissue, his hands slightly trembling as he cursed himself for saying the wrong thing. My wolf noticed everything, the tension, the tightness in his shoulders, the small crack in his calm facade, but I pushed it all aside.
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice thick, barely above a whisper. I forced a smile, brittle and fragile, like a delicate thing that might shatter with the slightest breath. But the lie hung in the air, and I couldn’t bring myself to explain that I wasn’t fine.
Peter paused, and I felt his eyes searching mine, unsure. “Are you sure?”
His awkward concern cut through the haze of my own thoughts, and I couldn’t help it. A soft laugh slipped from me, light and airy, just enough to break the tension, even if it was fleeting. The sound felt like a breath of fresh air, something that made the weight of everything lift, just a little.
Relief flooded Peter’s expression. He clutched his chest dramatically, as though he’d just survived some near catastrophe. “Phew, you scared me there.”
It was stupid, but it made me smile, genuinely this time.
“My grandma used to make all sorts of tomato dishes for me,” I said suddenly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I wasn’t even sure why I said it, except that the memory was there, lingering.
I wasn’t looking at Peter anymore, though. My gaze drifted off, as though I could still see her standing before me, the warmth of her presence filling the space around us. The scent of tomatoes, the simmering pots.
My voice was soft, almost fragile, like a whisper that might scatter in the breeze if I weren’t careful. “She made everything with tomatoes. It was her thing.”
Peter paused, and I could see the realization settle in his eyes. He understood, finally, that I wasn’t just talking about food, I was missing her.
His eyes softened, taking me in. My head bowed slightly.
For a second, I could sense the tension in the air between us, the kind of tension that felt like it could break. But then Peter blinked hard, shaking off whatever had caught in his heart, and turned away, his posture stiffening again.
“Missing your grandma, huh?” His voice was playful, trying to bring things back to normal. “What kind of dishes did she make? I’m a decent cook, you know. Maybe I can whip up something close.”
I smiled wistfully, warmth spreading through me, but I shook my head. “You can’t recreate her flavors,” I murmured. No one can.
It was a strange thing to say, but it was true. My grandmother’s cooking wasn’t just about the taste, it was about her. The way she’d pull me into the kitchen with that knowing smile, her hands working magic as she humored my picky tastes.
She had been my world, and without her, the world felt… empty.
I scanned the towering piles of vegetables, my thoughts drifting again. The marketplace was alive with people and noise, but I felt so disconnected from it all.
“What else do we need?” I asked, trying to shift the conversation, looking at Peter as I turned back to the stalls.
He rubbed his chin, returning to his usual upbeat self. “How about some cucumbers? And maybe some fish-I heard it’s good for postpartum recovery.” His voice had that easy confidence that made me feel like I could let my guard down.
We strolled through the market together, the noise of the vendors and the sizzling food filling the air around us. I could feel the warmth of the morning sun on my skin, the weight of Lana in my arms, and for a moment, everything felt… normal.
We were just two people out shopping, two people laughing and talking about nothing. From behind, we probably looked like a young couple, strolling through the market, their laughter blending into the activities of life around them.
But when I glanced over at Peter, I saw that his ears were faintly pink, and I realized he was more aware of the situation than he was letting on. His bashful smile made me laugh softly to myself. Maybe it wasn’t just me who was still figuring out how to be normal again.
I squeezed Lana gently, letting the moment wash over me, grateful for the simplicity, even if I knew it wouldn’t last forever.
Just then, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Declan’s POV
From the shadowed apartment building across the marketplace, I watched them. My eyes were cold, narrowing as I tracked their every move, each step they took.
I wasn’t sure what drove me to stay hidden, maybe it was the fear that seeing them together would spark something in me that I wouldn’t be able to control. Or maybe I just needed to see it with my own eyes, to know how far whatever they had had progressed.
But as I watched, my emotions churned violently inside me. It was like a beast, caged and restless, clawing at the edges of my restraint. I could feel my wolf, itching to be free within me, desperate to claim what was mine.
I barely held it back.
The thought of marching down there, pulling her away from Peter, gnawed at me. She’s mine, I reminded myself. She’s my wife. The words were like a mantra, but even as I whispered them in my head, I could feel my control slipping.
My gaze slid to Peter, his youthful figure too close to her, too comfortable. A dangerous glint flashed in my eyes.
The way he was so unaware, so easy with her. He had no idea what was at stake here.
I got down from the vehicle, wearing a cap for disguise. That was not the only thing I wore. Evelyn wasnt the only one who uses scent blockers now, I did too. I got a bit closer to them but stayed hidden in the shadows.
From where I stood, I could see Peter, busy picking out vegetables, hauling a couple of heavy bags full of greens and fish. He was just another man playing pretend.
Then the vendor called out, his voice rising above the noise of the market, a sharp contrast to my simmering anger. “Rattles, five bucks each!” He waved a bright red rattle with a flourish, clearly hoping for a sale.
The baby’s eyes lit up, her tiny hands reaching eagerly for the rattle. I felt something twist in my chest, but I didn’t move. The sight of her reaching for it was too innocent and pure.
The vendor, catching her interest, grinned widely. “Your baby loves it, madam! Get her one!”
Evelyn hesitated, but Peter, ever eager to please, had already reached for his wallet. The vendor’s grin widened as he pulled out a sealed rattle, clearly thrilled by the transaction that was about to happen.
Just then, Evelyn took out her phone from her pocket. It must have buzzed. I could see the shift in her, the way her body went rigid as she stared at the screen. What message did she get that made her react in that manner?
The child didn’t notice the shift in her mother’s expression. Instead, she kept reaching for the rattle that the vendor still held, her little fingers grasping at the air.
“Sorry!” Evelyn said, cradling the baby to her chest and leaning toward Peter, her eyes pleading with him. “Can you take us back?”
Peter nodded without hesitation, forgetting to buy the rattle the baby wanted. But Lana, even as they hurried away, kept glancing back longingly at the rattle.
The vendor let out a sigh and was about to tuck the toy back into his bag. I could feel the frustration rippling off him as he gave one last look at the retreating figures.
