On impulse, I check my phone.
No texts, no missed calls.
My throat tightens. So Snow isn’t looking for me. He isn’t trying to stop me. He isn’t… fighting for me?
Does he know about our status? Of course.
Is he disappointed I ran? Or maybe even angry?
I swallow hard. Well, no wonder. I slipped away like a coward while he was asleep, without giving him a chance. Even if only to say goodbye. It was low.
They were right. You can’t make smart choices during heat recovery. Ninety-nine percent of the time, they’re the wrong ones.
Moon finishes feeding Lux and lifts him to burp.
He comes closer, and my eyes drop to the baby again.
Two-month-old Lux looks back at me with uncertain eyes, their color still undecided, the way babies’ eyes often are before they settle.
But there’s already a spark of awareness in those little eyes, staring at me from that tiny body—the awareness of another human being walking his own unique path, just like all of us.
Before I know it, I catch myself smiling at the baby and murmuring, "Hey, little one… was it tasty?"
"Do you want to hold him?" Moon asks quietly, a faint smile playing on his lips.
A wave of shyness washes over me.
"Can I?" I whisper.
"He still can’t hold his head up on his own. About three weeks ago he started lifting it a little when lying down, but for now keep your fingers around his neck and the back of his head."
Carefully, I take Lux from him, making sure to support his head.
I cradle the tiny body, warm and soft, with that faint mix of Moon’s milk and his own sweet baby scent. I pull him closer.
A shiver runs through me. Lux is so small, so fragile, and yet something inside me stirs: a protective instinct that doesn’t care that he’s not my child. I know I could love him. And I know… he’d love me back.
The incredible love nobody can give like this. Not even a partner.
The trust. The purity of it.
I squeeze my eyes shut so hard it almost hurts, and the words spill out of me.
"You know… Snow is going to have kids with a married omega he’s been sleeping with for years. I ran because I couldn’t deal with it. He wants to take those kids into his home, and itoverwhelmed me… scared me. I don’t even fully understand my own reaction, but it felt like… betrayal."
I smooth my hand over Lux’s silky head.
Moon tilts his head, studying me.
"Would raising twins overwhelm you?"
I hesitate. "That’s not it. I know Lake, Snow’s dad, would help, and Jordan, the beta who works for them as a housekeeper. And of course Snow himself. It’s a big family, so the responsibilities would be shared, but…"
Moon stays silent, waiting for me to finish.
But I can’t. I don’t have the words to explain what my real ‘but’ is.
Is there any? A real one?
