Every part of me screamed to lunge, to rip her apart, to tear that stolen heart from her chest, my daughter’s heart.
But I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
Instead, I lifted my gaze, meeting hers. My voice came out cold. “Why is she here?”
Jeremiah shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “Hannah will be staying with us for a while.”
The words didn’t make sense at first. I blinked slowly, my mind struggling to process them. “What?”
“She’s… she’s pregnant,” he said finally, his tone careful, as if waiting for me to explode.
I looked at him, then at her. Hannah’s lips curved into a shy smile, her hands resting over her stomach.
My heart went silent. Then, quietly, I said, “And?”
Hannah’s smile faltered. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”
I laughed under my breath, the sound sharp and bitter. “Happy?” I echoed. “Yeah, sure.”
Jeremiah’s expression hardened. “Zera, that’s enough. Why are you even acting this way? You should be happy your bestfriend is expecting a baby.”
“Are you sure that baby isn’t yours, Alpha? Because you seem so concern,” I said, standing now, meeting his eyes head-on.