Bestie, My Husband is All Yours Now

"Bestie! Look at you, glowing! Or... well, glistening. Same thing, right?"

Natalie's voice was spun sugar-sticky, sweet, and likely to cause cavities. She sat by the hospital bed, her perfectly manicured hand hovering over Louise's arm like she was afraid she might catch the bad luck by osmosis.

Louise managed a smile that felt more like a grimace. "It's probably the fever sweat, Nat. Not exactly a spa treatment."

"Nonsense! You're a warrior," Natalie chirped, her eyes sparkling with something that looked suspiciously like predatory amusement. "How is our patient today?"

"Dying," Louise deadpanned, adjusting the scratchy hospital blanket. "My cells are currently staging a violent coup. I think they've taken the liver hostage."

Natalie let out a dramatic gasp, clutching her pearls-figuratively, since she was wearing a blouse that cost more than Louise's first car. "Don't say that! You have to stay positive. Mind over matter! Your wolf just needs a pep talk."

Louise sighed, glancing at the IV drip counting down the seconds of her life. "My wolf isn't just quiet, Nat. She's basically a throw rug at this point. She used to be this majestic, talkative creature, and now? I think she's ghosted me."

"She'll pull through," Natalie insisted, finally squeezing Louise's hand. Her grip was tight. Too tight. "We're besties. I won't let you go without a fight."

Besties.

The word bounced around Louise's skull like a rubber ball in an empty room. It was a weird label for a step-sister who had spent high school spreading rumors that Louise had lice, and their adult years "accidentally" spilling lattes on Louise's white blouses before big meetings.

But here Natalie was. The only person visiting.

The irony wasn't lost on Louise. Her husband, David-the man she had defied fate for-was nowhere to be seen. And her mother-in-law, Ella? She was probably somewhere lighting a candle against Louise's recovery.

"Where's David?" Louise asked, her voice smaller than she wanted it to be.

"Oh, you know David," Natalie waved a dismissive hand. "Working hard. For you. For your future."

"Right. My future," Louise snorted softly. "The one that's currently measured in weeks."

She thought of David. Seven years ago, he was her hero. He'd saved her from a pack of drunk alphas behind a bar. He was brave, kind, and made her laugh. When the Moon Priestess warned her that choosing a chosen mate over a Fated Mate would sever her connection to destiny, Louise had practically shouted, "I do!"

She was an idiot. A romantic, adorable idiot.

Now, David was a ghost in his own house. He blamed her for their lack of children, a sentiment his mother, Ella Salinger, amplified with a megaphone.

"My son should have married Natalie," Ella had sneered just last week, standing at the foot of this very deathbed. "She's obedient. She has child-bearing hips. You? You're a barren field, Louise. A waste of seed."

"I have cancer, Ella, not a curse," Louise had whispered.

"Same thing," Ella had barked. "You're bringing my