The Breaking Point
Maya Hart's POV
"I wish I had a new mummy! I want a new mummy! Someone who isn't weak and broken!"
The anger in my seven-year-old son's voice hit me harder than any physical blow.
Leo stood right in the center of the school courtyard, his small hands curled into tight fists. After he screamed those heartbreaking words, his chest heaved with a young werewolf’s hot temper.
I didn't know if he wanted everyone to hear. But they did. Every pack member lingering after the final bell heard him perfectly.
Soon, the surrounding crowd of parents turned to look. Their eyes gleamed with cruel amusement before the whispers started. It was a low, collective hum of mockery that made the skin on the back of my neck prickle.
But I ignored it like I'd been doing for years. Their comments didn't matter. Only my son did.
"Leo, please," I whispered, reaching out for him. My hands shook so badly I had to hide my fingers in my sleeves.
"Let's just go to the car. I am so sorry. The appointment ran over, and—"
"I don't care! You're always late, and you're always tired!" Leo screamed.
It was painful to watch him back away from my hand as if my touch were a disease.
"You're just a useless human!"
It wouldn't be the first time someone had called me that. But hearing it from my son? My Leo?
Instantly, blood drained from my face, leaving me cold despite the afternoon heat.
As my hand drifted to my coat pocket, the crisp white piece of paper felt like a cruel joke against my thigh.
*Advanced heart failure. Estimated life expectancy: Three months*
The diagnosis was a double-edged blade. It cut deeper because of who had handed it to me.
The specialist wasn't just a distant face in a white coat. Dr. Julian was my closest friend and colleague at the pediatric clinic where we both worked.
He had practically begged me to stay in his office.
I remembered how his voice had cracked with sadness as I backed out the door. He shouted that he wasn't finished explaining the prognosis. He kept saying we could fight this together as doctors.
But the clock on our clinic wall had sent a jolt of panic through me. I was forty-five minutes late to pick up my child.
I had spent years studying, poring over pediatric books and working brutal hospital shifts to build my career.
I chose to become a pediatrician for one single reason: my son.
As a human mother raising a powerful werewolf pup, I was terrified. I worried my human limitations would make me miss a symptom of his changing body.
I worried I wouldn't know how to care for him when his wolf temper flared. I became a doctor to bridge the gap between my weakness and his strength.
I wanted my medical knowledge to make up for my lack of claws and fur, to ensure I could always protect him.
And now, Leo was using his strength to publicly shame me for being weak.
My chest thudded painfully, a brutal reminder of the clock ticking down inside me.
My fragile human body was never built to carry an Alpha’s pup. The pregnancy had slowly drained my life force.
It acted like a quiet poison that was finally finishing the job seven years later. I was dying because I had given this boy life.
"That's enough," I tried to say firmly.
But my voice cracked, betraying the sorrow tearing through me. I swallowed hard.
I tried to hold onto some professional dignity beneath the sharp gazes of the pack mothers.
They loved this. They lived for the moments the human Luna proved she couldn't cut it.
"He's right."
The deep, heavy voice cut through the courtyard, causing the noise to instantly freeze.
I turned to see my husband, Marcus.
As the Alpha of the pack, his presence always demanded absolute obedience.
Right now, his dark eyes held nothing but cold, public disappointment.
He didn't offer me a greeting. He didn't pull Leo aside to scold him for disrespecting his mother in front of the entire territory.
Instead, Marcus stepped smoothly in front of the boy, shielding him from me as if I were the threat.
"Marcus, please tell him..." I pleaded softly, my fingers hovering over the medical papers.
I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted him to look at me with even a fraction of the love he used to have. I wanted him to protect me, just this once.
"Tell him what?" Marcus sneered, crossing his arms. "To lie? We all know what you are, Maya. You’re fragile and slow."
"I was at the clinic—" I started, but he cut me off with a harsh glare.
"I don't care," he snapped. "The least you could do is try to be a competent parent. You forgot our son because of a routine checkup."
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a cold whisper.
"You are a constant embarrassment to this family."
Marcus spilled his true feelings without hesitation. He said everything so casually without caring how the crowd's whispers intensified.
Now, their cruel words carried clearly to my ears.
"She's so useless."
"I knew a human Luna would never work!"
"She's too weak!"
If they thought I was weak, what would they think if I pulled the paper out right now and told them my heart was giving out? Would they even care? Would they sympathize with me? Or would they just see it as another flaw? Another failure to add to the list?
I knew they wouldn't mourn me. They would feel relieved that the pack’s bloodline was finally getting rid of its weakest link.
Before I could find my voice to defend myself, a soft laugh broke the heavy tension.
"Oh, there you are! I was wondering what was taking the boys so long."
Talia, the Beta’s daughter, stepped gracefully into the clearing.
She was a beautiful, pure-blooded werewolf. Radiant, strong, and perfectly suited for the brutal pack life I struggled to survive in.
Her glossy hair caught the sunlight, and she carried herself with the easy confidence of someone who belonged.
The moment Leo saw her, his angry expression melted into pure joy.
"Talia!" he squealed.
He ran right past me as if I were a ghost, throwing his small arms around her waist.
"Hey, big guy," Talia cooed.
She ran her fingers through his hair with an easy, maternal familiarity that made my stomach twist.
She looked up, offering my husband a warm, brilliant smile.
"I brought those training schedules you asked for, Alpha," she said, ignoring my presence.
Marcus's harsh expression instantly softened into a look I hadn't seen directed at me in years.
He stepped closer to her, completely ignoring my existence as he reached out to gently pat her shoulder.
"Thank you, Talia. I appreciate you taking care of things while others fail to."
My husband was smiling so genuinely, so sweetly, at another woman.
The surrounding pack members began murmuring more loudly now.
"They look like a perfect family, don't they?"
"Honestly, Talia should have been the Luna from the start."
"Nothing Maya does will ever make her worthy of him. She's just a human."
Every single word felt like a nail being driven into my coffin.
They were right.
I had spent eight years trying to prove I belonged here. I had tried to overcome the divide through sheer willpower and medical devotion.
All it had gotten me was a failing heart and a family that openly wished I didn't exist.
A ragged sob choked in my throat. I didn't wait for Marcus to dismiss me. I turned on my heel and ran.
I ran past the whispering wolves, past my smiling husband and laughing son, and threw myself into the front seat of my car.
Slamming the door against the world, I started the engine, threw the vehicle into reverse, and sped away from the school.
I left the only life I knew in a cloud of dust.