Betrayed Luna Finds True Love

I woke up with that familiar churning in my stomach, the third morning in a row. My inner wolf, Lily, stirred restlessly as I bolted to the bathroom, barely making it before emptying what little remained in my stomach from last night's dinner.

'*This has to be it*,' I thought, pressing my palm against my still-flat abdomen. After three years as Ryan's Luna, the Moon Goddess had finally blessed us.

I splashed cold water on my face and brushed my teeth, studying my reflection. My skin glowed despite the nausea, and my wolf seemed unusually protective, urging me to rest more, eat better. All the signs were there.

"We need to be sure before we tell him," I whispered to Lily, who hummed in agreement.

I padded back to our bedroom, noticing Ryan had left his laptop open on his desk. He'd rushed out before dawn for an emergency meeting with neighboring packs—at least that's what he'd said. Three years of being Luna had taught me not to question his absences too deeply.

I sat at his desk, intending to close the laptop, when the open tabs caught my eye. '*Fetal development at 6 weeks*,' '*Early pregnancy symptoms*,' '*First trimester sonogram images*.' My heart fluttered wildly.

"He knows," I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. "Lily, he must have sensed it through our bond!"

My wolf whined softly, but I was too overwhelmed with joy to notice her hesitation. Ryan had sensed our pup and was researching, preparing himself. The thought of my strong, sometimes distant Alpha husband secretly reading about pregnancy made warmth spread through my chest.

I spent the day in a happy daze, arranging wildflowers in crystal vases throughout our pack house—blue lupines and white daisies, symbols of new beginnings. I even began sketching nursery designs, imagining soft yellows and greens, a space that would welcome our little miracle.

By evening, I'd prepared Ryan's favorite dinner—rare steak with rosemary potatoes. I wore the blue dress he once said brought out the gold flecks in my eyes, and waited with nervous excitement.

When the front door finally opened, Ryan's tall frame filled the doorway, his dark hair slightly disheveled from the wind. He carried a small paper bag, which he set on the counter without meeting my eyes.

"I brought some things," he said, his voice oddly detached. "Prenatal vitamins and ginger tea for morning sickness."

My heart soared. He definitely knew! I moved closer, touching his arm gently.

"Ryan," I whispered, "how did you know? Did you feel it through our bond?"

His body stiffened under my touch. Something dark flickered across his face—irritation, perhaps even panic. He stepped away, creating distance between us.

"What are you talking about?" His voice had that edge, the one that appeared whenever I asked questions he didn't want to answer.

"The baby," I said, confusion creeping in. "I think I'm pregnant. I found your research..."

Ryan's expression shifted, a flash of something I couldn't identify before his Alpha mask slid