Rejected Mate's Freedom

The sterile hospital smell clung to my clothes as I sat alone in the empty recovery room, staring at the white walls that seemed to mock my grief. The second time. The second baby I'd lost because Christopher couldn't be bothered to stay with his true mate when she needed him most.

"Mrs. Montgomery?" The nurse's voice was gentle, but I could hear the pity underneath. "Your husband... he left about an hour ago. Said there was an emergency with another pack member."

Another emergency. Another crisis that Mallory had manufactured at the exact moment I needed him. My hand instinctively moved to my still-flat stomach, where our pup had been growing just yesterday. The cramping had started during breakfast, sharp and unforgiving, but when I'd called Christopher in panic, he'd been dealing with one of Mallory's episodes.

"She can't shift, Irene," he'd said, not even looking at me as I doubled over in pain. "Her wolf is retreating because of her depression. I have to help her."

I'd driven myself to the pack hospital, bleeding and terrified, while my mate comforted another woman through her fabricated crisis.

The door creaked open, and I looked up hopefully, thinking maybe Christopher had finally come. Instead, Dr. Martinez entered with that careful expression doctors wore when delivering bad news you already knew.

"I'm sorry, Luna," she said softly. "We did everything we could, but the stress..."

Stress. That's what they called it when your mate's neglect killed your unborn child.

Three days later, I sat in our kitchen, mechanically stirring my coffee while Christopher read pack reports at the breakfast table. The silence between us had grown so thick I could barely breathe through it. He hadn't apologized. Hadn't acknowledged what his absence had cost us. He'd simply returned home that night, muttered something about Mallory being stable now, and went to bed.

"The mail came," I said quietly, sliding the official-looking envelope across the table.

Christopher glanced up, his dark eyes already dismissive. "What is it?"

"A recruitment letter. From a government research facility in Nevada." My voice was steadier than I felt. "They're looking for werewolves with advanced education to participate in a classified genetics research program."

His fork clattered against his plate. "Research program? Irene, you can't be serious."

"I have a degree in biochemistry," I reminded him, though we both knew he'd never valued my education. "I could contribute something meaningful. Maybe help bridge the gap between our species and—"

"Human nonsense." Christopher's alpha tone cut through my words like a blade. "You're the Luna of this pack. Your place is here, not playing scientist with humans who don't understand our nature."

The familiar ache settled in my chest. "My place," I repeated hollowly. "And what exactly is my place, Christopher? Sitting alone while you tend to your chosen mate? Losing babies because you're never here when I need you?"

His jaw tightened. "Mallory needs—"

"Mallory needs nothing!" The words exploded from me before I could stop them.