He Welcomed Her Pup While Mine Was Cremated Chapter 01
POV: Maris Alden
The day I went to remove my five–year–old daughter from the Pack Registry’s death records, my husband Brennan Holt stayed out all night as usual.
I stood outside the Vital Records Office in Bloodmoon City, calling him in the cold wind.
“Elara’s being removed from the bloodline record today. Can you just come by…”
Before I could finish, Brennan cut me off impatiently.
“Maris Alden, don’t you think you’re disgusting?”
“You’re her mother, and you dare curse your own pup with words
like that? Do you want the Moon Goddess to curse you?”
Half an hour later, I held Elara’s death certificate and looked at my husband’s mother, Luna Beatrice, beside me.
“Mom, Elara is gone.
“Please, let me go.”
Beatrice looked at me with pity and said softly, “Maris, you and
Brennan are still young. You’ll have another pup.”
“Don’t worry. Alpha Garrick and I are on your side. I’ll make that
disgrace of a Holt apologize to you…”
Before she could finish, I held my phone up to her face.
It was the PackNet post Brennan had just made.
[Thank you for choosing me as your father.]
Attached was an ultrasound image. It clearly stated: Keira Flint, pregnant, seven weeks.
Keira, an Omega, Brennan’s secretary.
Beatrice froze. A moment later, she furiously pulled out her phone.
I’m calling him right now! Don’t worry. He’s going to answer for this.*
I forced a bitter smile and dialed Brennan before she could.
As soon as the call connected, Brennan’s impatient voice came through.
“Maris, are you ever going to stop? Are you trying to use the pup as
an excuse to trick me into coming back again? Forget it!”
“The more you pull this, the more disgusting you are to me!”
Before I could say a word, Brennan hung up.
Every word reached Beatrice’s ears. Her face went pale, her lips trembling.
I forced a smile, but tears streamed down my face.
“Mom, please. I have nothing left. Let me go. I can’t do this anymore.
She was about to say something when the call from Moonhall Funeral Home came in.
“Ms. Alden, is the cremation still scheduled for tomorrow morning?”
My grip on the phone tightened, and I choked out, “Yes.”
Three days ago, because of a call from Keira, Brennan abandoned
me and five–year–old Elara on the Northbridge skyway.
The cold wind triggered Elara’s moon–lung asthma.
But the breath–mist inhaler had been left in Brennan’s SUV.
I called him over and over, begging him to come back, but he just kept shutting me down.
“Stop using that as an excuse.”
“Keira needs me. I’m going to her now. Take a cab home yourself.”
When I called again, Brennan’s phone was off.
Cars sped along the skyway. I held Elara and begged driver after
driver to take us to the pack hospital.
But it was too late. Far too late.
From the onset of the attack to her last breath, it was only ten minutes.
Every time I remembered how Elara stopped breathing in my arms,
it felt like a silver blade was carving my heart apart.
The pain was so bad I went white.
Beatrice asked, worried, “Maris, are you okay?”
I tried to force a smile, but my vision went black and I lost consciousness.