Twice Rejected: The Luna Forged in Fire

Chapter 4

SLOANE

I’m halfway out the door when Ava screams.

I freeze on the front steps, keys in hand, my bag slung over my shoulder. The hospital is a two‑hour drive from the pack lands. If I leave now, I’ll barely make it in time for the surgery. If I’m late, they’ll replace me. It’s a high‑risk case. A child. A family waiting.

But Ava screams again — louder, sharper — and the sound slices through me.

I drop my bag and run back inside.

“Ava?” I shout. “What’s happening?”

Her voice cracks from the west wing. “Sloane! Sloane, please!”

I sprint down the hall. She’s standing in the doorway of her room, gripping the frame, her face pale and twisted in pain. A puddle spreads beneath her feet.

“My water—” She gasps. “It broke.”

Caleb starts crying from the living room. The maids rush to him. Hunter appears from the kitchen, panic flashing across his face.

“Ava, breathe,” he says, rushing to her side. “I’ve got you.”

He wraps an arm around her waist, steadying her. The way he holds her — protective, familiar — makes my stomach twist.

“Sloane,” Ava whimpers, reaching for me with her free hand. “Lani… please.”

The nickname hits me like a memory.

Lani.

She hasn’t called me that since we were kids. Since we used to run barefoot through the woods, pretending we were queens of our own tiny kingdom. Since before life got complicated. Before men.

Hearing it now melts every ounce of anger I’ve been holding.

“I’m here,” I say, stepping forward. “I’ve got you.”

Hunter looks at me, relief flooding his face. “Thank god. I don’t know what to do.”

Of course he doesn’t. He’s never been good in emergencies. That’s always been my job.

I take Ava’s other arm. “Let’s get you to the bed.”

She leans into both of us, trembling. “Lani, don’t leave me. Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Even though I should be in my car because a child at the hospital needs me.

My career depends on today, but I stayed.

The labor is brutal.

Ava screams until her voice breaks. She clutches my hand so tightly my fingers go numb. Hunter hovers beside her, wiping her forehead, whispering encouragement like a husband would.

“You’re doing amazing,” he murmurs. “I’m right here.”

She looks at him like he hung the moon.

I focus on the delivery. On the blood. On the tearing. On the terrifying moments when the baby’s heartbeat dips and Ava’s eyes roll back.

“Stay with me,” I say, tapping her cheek. “Ava, look at me.”

She sobs. “It hurts, Lani. It hurts so much.”

“I know. You’re almost there.”

Hunter grips her shoulders. “Ava, breathe. Please breathe.”

They were both shaking.

I’m the only steady one in the room.

Finally — finally — the baby slips into my hands.

A boy.

Tiny. Red. Crying.

I lift him to Ava’s chest. “It’s a boy.”

She breaks into tears. Hunter does too.

“Mason,” she whispers. “His name is Mason.”

Hunter kisses her forehead. “He’s perfect.”

The way he looks at her — soft, full, overflowing — makes something inside me crack.

I step back, suddenly exhausted. “I’ll clean up.”

Ava reaches for me weakly. “Thank you, Lani. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

I nod, unable to speak.

I cancel the surgery and reschedule the case. I apologize to the hospital. I tell them it was a family emergency.

Ava is family. That’s what I tell myself.

After the chaos settles, I shower and collapse into bed. My body aches. My head throbs. My heart feels bruised.

For the next four weeks, I barely see my own home.

The hospital is swamped. A promotion is coming — Chief Surgical Consultant. An award too — Community Medical Excellence. My assistant beams every time she hands me another congratulatory email.

“You deserve this,” she says.

I smile, but it feels thin.

Hunter doesn’t come to the ceremony.

Ava is “still fragile.”

So I go alone.

I stand on stage in a glittering hall, holding a crystal plaque, smiling for cameras, shaking hands with people who say words like “inspirational” and “heroic.”

I’ve never felt lonelier.

Afterward, I’m supposed to stay in the hotel overnight. Celebrate. Rest. Enjoy the moment.

But all I want is home.

I want to show Hunter the award. I want Caleb to see it too.

I want someone to say they’re proud of me.

So I drive back in the dark, the plaque on the passenger seat catching the headlights like a shard of glass.

I reach the house close to midnight. The lights are on. I step inside quietly, not wanting to wake anyone.

Then I hear it.

Soft voices. Low. Intimate.

Coming from the west wing. Ava’s room.

My heart starts pounding.

I walk down the hall, each step heavier than the last.

Ava’s door is slightly open.

I push it gently.

“Oh, Hunt! Yes, baby! Don’t stop!”

And I see them.

Ava don’t know where to turn her head. She was pinned against the wall with no top on, while Hunter suck on her n*****s and his hand busy pleasuring her p***y.

Ava threw her head back in pleasure. I heard a low groan as Hunter took his d**k out and positioned himself.

“I want it all— ahh!” Ava’s eyes rolled back while Hunter rammed her.

My award slips from my hand and hits the floor with a dull thud.

They both look up.

Ava’s eyes widen.

Hunter’s face drains of color.

“Sloane,” he says, pulling his c**k out abruptly. “I can explain.”

But he can’t.

Because I finally see it. Every lie.

All of it.