Moonlight Under The Mistletoe: Cursed Alpha’s Savior

1: IT CAN’T POSSIBLY GET WORSE.

“Mrs Coco, I’m afraid I have some bad news, you have stage three stomach cancer and you have only six months left to live at best.” Those were the words the doctor said to me, looking at me like I was the most pitiful creature on earth and maybe I was.

It was only hours ago I was rushed here, my husband’s face a blur as he held my hand, whispering that everything would be okay. But it wasn’t okay. I lost the baby I’d waited five long years for. And just when I thought I had reached the peak of my bad luck and it couldn’t get any worse from here, the doctor came back with the worst news I could imagine. Cancer, he said. A relentless cancer, tearing through my body with no mercy.

I close my eyes, trying to breathe through the panic. I hear the doctor’s words over and over again, that careful tone in his voice. He was probably trying to be gentle, to soften the edges somehow but there’s no way to ruin someone’s life nicely. “It’s everywhere, Coco,” he’d said, looking at me with this strange sadness. “The cancer has spread to all your cells. It’s…” he hesitated, his voice breaking a little, “it’s too late.”

I still hear my own voice, small and frightened, asking, “But isn’t there… anything? Any way to… to stop it?” My voice sounded so fragile, like I was already starting to disappear.

He’d just looked at me, his hands folded in that way that doctors do when they have no real answer. “At this point…” he’d finally said, “only prayers to the moon goddess, Coco. Right now, that’s all we have.”

Only prayers. It felt unreal, as if any second, I’d wake up and find this was some twisted dream.

But then the nurse walked in, her face filled with sympathy, her eyes filled with that same sadness that everyone seemed to be wearing around me. She went about her tasks quietly, checking the machines and scribbling on her chart, until finally, she looked at me, hesitating.

“Have they… have they informed my husband?” I asked the doctor because he was supposed to be here right now, comforting me.

“Yes, they have.” The doctor replied and I nodded, unable to speak. I thought about my husband’s face this morning, the way his eyes had filled with fear and grief as he’d held my hand. He was with me through the miscarriage, and I saw how miserable he was. I wondered what he was feeling right now. I wondered how miserable he probably felt. I wanted to be there with him, comforting him as much as I wanted him to be here comforting me.

It felt like I was going crazy and my mind started to spin, drowning in memories and regrets. Five years I’d dreamed of a child, a family. I’d imagined that little life, the laughter, the joy. But now… now, all of that was gone. And my own life? I could feel it slipping away, vanishing like smoke through my fingers.

I close my eyes trying to hold back the tears. I tell myself to be strong, to keep it together, but it’s useless. I knew that if I started to cry, I wouldn’t be able to stop but it was too much to hold in. I let out a shaky breath, and the tears finally started to stream down my face.

“Why?” I whisper. “Why is this happening to me?”

My voice breaks, and I know no one is listening, but I keep talking, because I need to say it. I need to let the words out. “I did everything I could. I tried so hard…” My hands clutch the edges of the bed, knuckles white as I grip the thin blanket. “Why do I have to go through this?”

The bitterness starts to creep in, gnawing at me, and I can’t help but think of all the things I’ll never get to do. I think of the stories I wanted to write, the worlds I wanted to create. So many dreams, so many plans, all of them shattered now, left lying in pieces I can never put back together.

If I’d had a wolf like everyone else, this wouldn’t be happening to me right now. Those with wolves almost never fell sick, and they certainly never go through things like a miscarriage or cancer. I felt the anger rise. I was born without a wolf unlike all my siblings, which means I was practically human. And now, I’m paying the price. I’m paying the f*****g price for something that’s not even my fault.

“Of course,” I whisper, the laugh that escapes me bitter. “Of course, it had to be me. No wolf, no strength… just… nothing but bad luck.

I stare up at the ceiling, feeling the tears slip down my cheeks, warm and salty. The future I’d dreamed of is gone, slipping further and further away with every second that passes. I wonder what I’m supposed to do now. How do I keep going, knowing that everything I wanted is gone?

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I say, choking on my own tears. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep going.”

As I pushed open the door to our house, I let out a shaky breath, taking in the familiar scent of home. After days in the hospital, coming back here should have filled me with relief but it didn’t. Not after everything I’d been through. Not with the thought of how miserable my husband was probably feeling weighing on my mind.

The doctors had given me medication, though we all knew it wasn’t a cure, just something to make me more comfortable in the time I had left.

The moment I stepped inside, I could hear it—the sound of laughter and loud voices from the living room. The unmistakable sound of a football game blared from the TV, with his laughter filling the space. I looked behind me to see if I had walked through the wrong door but the smell of our house was unmistakable.

The dots started to connect, slowly and painfully. My husband hadn’t come to see me once after that initial visit. Not one call, not even a message. I’d thought he was overwhelmed, grieving, maybe even struggling to cope. But here he was, just… watching TV, like it was any other day.

I felt something twist painfully inside me as I walked into the living room. It was so painful that I could bet it was going to kill me before cancer did. He didn’t notice me, his eyes glued to the TV screen, his smile wide and reaching his ears.

I stopped just a few feet away from him and cleared my throat. “Really?” I managed to say, though my voice was barely above a whisper.

He glanced at me, barely acknowledging my presence. I stepped forward, took a shaky breath, and pressed the power button on the TV, shutting it off. I wanted his attention, his focus. I wanted him to look at me and see me, see the pain I was in.

He turned his head slowly, clearly irritated by what I just did. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice impatient.

I couldn’t believe this was the man I’d married. “I just got back from the hospital,” I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. “You didn’t come to see me, not even once. And now, I walk in to find you here… watching football?” My hands clenched at my sides. “Do you even care about me at all?”

He sighed, sounding more annoyed than anything else. “Coco, you’re in the way,” he said, standing up like he couldn’t be bothered by anything I just said. Was this some kind of coping mechanism for him? Was he doing this because he was in too much pain?

For a second, I thought he was about to hug me, apologize, show some shred of care. But instead, he looked at me with nothing but frustration. “You’re blocking the TV,” he said, reaching for the remote to turn it back on.

I was stunned, my mouth hanging open. “Blocking the—?” My voice broke, and I shook my head, unable to comprehend what he’d just said. “This is your response? After everything?”

He shrugged, not even looking at me as he pressed the button, the TV flickering back to life. “You’re getting on my nerves, Coco,” he muttered, his tone cold, dismissive.

I felt something inside me snap. Without thinking, I reached over and turned off the TV again. “You think this is a joke? I came home hoping you’d be here for me, that you’d show me some kind of support. I thought we meant more to each other than this.”

He let out a growl, his eyes flashing with annoyance. “Enough,” he said, his voice sharp as he shoved me out of the way.

I stumbled back, my shoulder hitting the wall behind me. For a second, I was too stunned to move, too shocked to even process what had just happened. He didn’t even glance my way, simply plopping back down on the couch as if nothing had happened and turning on the TV.

Before I could even find the words to speak, to demand answers, I heard soft footsteps from the kitchen. A woman’s voice, humming lightly, drifted through the room. And then she appeared.

She was draped in a robe—a familiar one. The very robe he’d bought me as a birthday gift . My heart sank as I took in the sight of her, the way she wore it with casual confidence, her hair loose around her shoulders and she was clearly naked underneath the robe, she didn’t do much to hide it. Her n****e was almost poking it’s way out of the silk robe. She carried a tray of cookies, a small, smug smile on her face as she made her way over to my husband and kisses him like it was normal and I was the one out of place. He kissed her back without hesitation, his hand slipping around her waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I felt the ground shake beneath me, the room spinning. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but stare at the two of them.