My Fiance is Sleeping With My Step Sister

Chapter 85

When I stepped out of the daycare, the sound of children’s laughter still clung to me like sunlight. My heart felt lighter than it had in a long time, and I realized I was smiling without forcing it. The air outside was crisp, carrying the smell of pine and fresh bread from the nearby houses. For once, I wasn’t rushing anywhere, and no one was glaring at me as though I didn’t belong.

I walked down the dirt path, and to my surprise, two women waved at me from a bench where they were shelling peas into a wide basket. One of them stood quickly, brushing her hands on her apron.

“Luna,” she said with a small smile. “Would you like to join us for a while?”

Her voice didn’t carry hesitation, not the usual cold politeness I had grown used to. Genuine warmth touched her tone, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if I had heard right.

I glanced around, almost expecting someone to step in and pull me away, but no one did. So I nodded and walked over.

“I’d love to,” I said softly.

The second woman, older with streaks of silver in her hair, pushed a small stool toward me. “Sit, child. Your hands look like they could use work to keep them busy.”

I laughed, easing myself down on the stool. “That’s one way of putting it. I don’t think I’ve ever shelled peas before.”

Both women chuckled. The younger one poured a small pile of peas into my lap. “You’ll learn quickly. It’s easier than it looks.”

For the next while, we worked side by side, their fingers moving fast while mine fumbled and split a few pods too roughly. Every mistake drew a laugh from them, not mocking, but warm. I felt my cheeks heat up, but I laughed too, realizing that this… this was what I’d been missing.

The older woman leaned closer after a bit, her eyes kind. “You looked happy in there with the children, Luna. You’ll make a good mother.”

Her words tugged at something deep in my chest, a mix of joy and fear. I ducked my head, hiding my blush as I picked another pod. “I hope so,” I whispered.

“You will,” the younger one said firmly. “The children flocked to you like little birds. They know who’s safe, who’s gentle. Trust them.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and gave her a small smile.

As we sat there, a few other women came by, some carrying baskets, some just curious. One by one, they greeted me. Not stiffly, not coldly. They asked about my day, about the weather, about what I thought of the stew they had served last night. Ordinary things. Normal things. And I realized how much I craved this normalcy.

At some point, a little boy came running, dirt on his face and knees, a wooden toy clutched in his hand. He stopped short when he saw me, his eyes going wide.

“That’s the Luna,” he breathed, as if he’d just spotted someone out of a story.

I crouched a little, smiling at him. “And who are you?”

He puffed out his chest. “I’m Peter. I can climb the tall tree near the stream faster than anyone.”

“Is that so?” I asked, widening my eyes in mock astonishment. “Faster than even your father?”

He nodded proudly. “He says I’m going to be a warrior one day.”

I leaned closer, lowering my voice as though sharing a secret. “I believe him.”

The boy grinned and darted off, leaving the women shaking their heads with fond amusement.

“Children adore you,” the older woman said again. “It’s a gift.”

By the time I rose to leave, my lap was littered with empty pods, my hands green and sticky. The women laughed as I brushed off my skirt, thanking them for letting me join.

“Come again, Luna,” they said warmly. “It’s good for us to know you, not just see you from afar.”

I walked on, heart swelling with a strange mix of relief and hope. Each smile, each small conversation, chipped away at the walls I had built around myself.

Not long after, I found myself near the training grounds. A few warriors were sparring, their movements sharp and precise. I stood watching, admiring their strength. One of them noticed me and nudged the others. Slowly, they all stopped, turning to bow their heads respectfully.

“Luna,” one of them said, wiping sweat from his brow. “Would you care to observe? We train harder when we know eyes are on us.”

I blinked, startled by the respect in his tone. It wasn’t mocking, wasn’t grudging. “I’d be honored,” I said softly.

So I stayed, watching as they paired off again, their grunts and thuds filling the air. Some of the younger ones stole glances at me, as though hoping I would nod in approval. When I did, their faces lit up, and they attacked their training with even more determination.

After a while, one of the elders came forward, leaning on his cane. He had a stern face but his voice was gentle when he spoke. “It is good that you walk among us, Luna. A pack must see their Luna’s eyes, not just hear her name.”

I bowed my head respectfully. “I’m still learning what it means to be your Luna. But I want to do it right.”

His expression softened, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw pride flicker there.

By the time I returned toward the pack house, the sun was dipping lower, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink. My arms were full of small gifts the women had pressed into my hands — a loaf of bread, a scarf, even a carved trinket shaped like a wolf. Nothing grand, but each piece carried meaning.

As I climbed the steps, I paused, looking out over the village. For so long, I had feared I would never belong here, that no matter what I did, they would always see me as an outsider. But today… today felt different. Today I felt seen.

And though a whisper of doubt still lingered — a soft voice reminding me happiness never lasted long — I pushed it aside. Just for tonight, I wanted to hold on to this warmth, this sense of home.

I pressed a hand over my stomach, a small smile tugging at my lips. “We’ll be alright,” I murmured quietly, as if speaking to the life growing inside me. “We really will.”

With that, I turned and walked inside, the sound of laughter and warmth from the pack still echoing in my ears like a promise.