Too Late, Alpha The Mate He Never Wanted

My hands shook as I stared at the report before me in shock.

“Wh…What? How can this be? Tell me this is not true!” I pleaded with the Healer, but he shook his head with a sorrowful look on his face.

“I’m sorry, Luna Amelia. But it’s the truth. Your daughter has the Moonbane Curse,” the Healer said gently.

It felt like my whole world came crashing down at that moment. The sterile, white walls of the clinic seemed to close in on me, and the antiseptic smell choked my lungs. The Moonbane Curse was one of the rarest and deadliest diseases for young werewolves, a cruel twist of fate whispered about in hushed, fearful tones. It had no cure.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I glanced across the room at my young, innocent daughter, Chloe. She was sitting patiently on a chair, swinging her little legs, her bright blue eyes fixed on a colorful mural of forest animals on the wall. When Chloe saw me looking, she gave me a wide, toothy smile that caused my heart to ache with a physical, tearing pain. Chloe had so much life in her, a vibrant energy that could light up the darkest room. How could this be happening to her?

“How much time does she have?” I asked, my voice a broken whisper. I managed to return her smile, a grotesque mask of grief plastered on my face.

He sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of countless bad tidings delivered. “A month,” he replied.

My head snapped around to face him, my eyes wide with disbelief and horror. “What? A month?! But that’s not enough!” I cried, my voice rising to a near-shriek. A month was a blink of an eye, a countdown to the end of everything that mattered.

The Healer gave me a sad, sympathetic smile. “There’s nothing like enough time to spend with a loved one. The only thing you can do now is make sure her last days are her happiest.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and stinging, blurring the sight of the kind, sad man before me. Chloe had been having a high fever, a symptom so uncommon for werewolves with their robust immune systems that I had immediately brought her to the pack hospital for a checkup. I had expected a rare infection, perhaps a difficult-to-treat bug. Not this. Not a death sentence.

“What do I do now?” I cried, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a sob. “She’s only seven! I can’t lose her!”

The Healer shook his head sadly. “I’m really sorry, Luna Amelia. I really wish there was something else we could do.”

My hands trembled as I took the test report from him. The clinical black letters on the crisp paper seemed to mock me. Diagnosis: Moonbane Curse. Prognosis: Terminal. My chest tightened as reality finally, brutally, dawned on me. My Chloe, my beautiful, vibrant daughter, was going to die soon.

“I don’t want to give you false hope, Luna,” the Healer sighed, his voice soft, as if he knew he was about to toss a lifeline made of spider silk. “But there might be a cure for it.”

I froze. “A cure?”

Hope, fierce and desperate, flooded through me. It was a painful, exhilarating jolt to a heart that had just stopped beating. My pulse pounded in my ears, and my eyes widened.

“The hospital is currently working on a cure for the Moonbane Curse,” he explained. “There has been very little success with the trial phase, so we're not really optimistic. But we'll keep on trying. Hopefully, we might get something.”

I didn’t want to hope. Hope was a dangerous, fragile thing that could shatter and leave you with deeper wounds. But I couldn’t help it. For Chloe, I had to. She had a chance. She could get the treatment she needed if the healers had a breakthrough.

“Mommy?” Chloe’s sweet voice came from beside me. She had hopped off her chair and now stood tugging at my sleeve. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Will I be fine?”

I quickly wiped my eyes, turning to my daughter with the brightest, most fake smile I could muster. “Oh baby, of course you’ll be fine. You just need to sleep and eat a lot,” I said quickly, my words tumbling over each other in my haste to reassure her, and myself.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, trying not to cry as I collected the files from the healer.

As we walked home, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows, Chloe rambled excitedly about her eighth birthday, which was coming up in a month’s time. A month. The same timeframe the healer had given me. I tried to control the sobs rising in my throat, because without a cure, Chloe’s eighth birthday would also be her last.

Evie suddenly went silent, and I glanced at her with concern.

“Mom?” Chloe said quietly, her voice small. “Can Daddy come for my birthday this time? I promise, I'll be good.”

My heart shattered into a million pieces. Chloe rarely asked for anything else. This had always been her only wish—for her father to be present for her. But Ethan was never present.

Ethan Blackwood was the Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack, and my mate.

Alpha Ethan hated Chloe because of me, and our daughter was suffering because of it. She had always craved that fatherly affection, a love she only saw in other families, a warmth she had never felt herself.

My vision blurred with fresh tears. At that moment, I swore an oath to whatever gods were listening. I would do whatever possible to make sure that Chloe got that fatherly affection, at least for this one last month. Until I was sure that Chloe wasn’t going to die.

Immediately I got home, I put Chloe to sleep for a nap and picked up the phone. My hand trembled as I dialed his number.

“Ethan, we need to talk,” I said softly when he answered.

I could feel Ethan’s irritation vibrate through the phone line as he replied sharply. “What is it? I am very busy right now.”

I brushed off the familiar sting of his irritation. It was a normal occurrence, an accepted part of our non-existent marriage, but it still hurt. “Please, you need to spend more time with Chloe.” My voice shook, betraying my carefully constructed composure.

Ethan scoffed in annoyance. “Amelia, you know that I don't have time for any of your games. Sophia needs help with her daughter, Olivia, so I have a lot on my plate right now.”

The mention of Sophia, and Olivia, her daughter, caused my heart to bleed. Sophia was Ethan’s first love who had disappeared several years ago, only to return recently with her daughter in tow. My replacement, and his, apparently.

I insisted, my voice tight. “But this is important, Ethan.” It took everything in me to keep myself from breaking down right then and there.

He released an annoyed growl, the sound rumbling menacingly. “What could be so important that you kee—”

I cut him off, the words tearing from my throat in a raw, ragged cry. “Chloe is very sick. She's going to die soon.”