For years, some pack members had whispered about Asher’s love for Luna Amara, speculating that I was nothing more than a replacement to help him move on from her tragic death.
Yet, I refused to let their doubts rattle me. I held the truth close to my heart. I was his mate, his Luna, and together, we had built a family around our precious daughter, Beatrice.
In the midst of their murmurs, I stood my ground, unshaken. At least after Alpha Asher’s fierce warning, no one dared to utter Amara’s name again.
The gathering continued, but I couldn't shake the unsettling thoughts that crept into my mind.
Everyone seemed convinced that Beatrice was Amara's daughter, not mine. While the elders and healers knew I was the one who had given her life, an uneasy sensation tugged at my thoughts.
Every inch of Beatrice seemed to be crafted from Alpha Asher himself; her lips, eyebrows, and striking features mirrored his perfectly. Yet, I found no trace of myself within her.
Her big, round eyes were nothing like mine. While both Asher and I had long, oval faces, Beatrice’s was round and square, almost a replica of the photo of Amara I had seen in her picture.