Avenging Luna
Chapter 112: Shunned Away

Chapter 112: Shunned Away

Leila POV:

The days passed quietly, almost eerily so, as I went about the hospital without seeing a trace of Drake. A whole week, and not once did I catch even a glimpse of him. The silence left an ache, but it also brought relief. I no longer had to brace myself every time the door opened or look over my shoulder, wondering if he would come striding in with that icy look of betrayal in his eyes.

Without his presence, the air felt different, lighter yet tinged with an emptiness I couldn’t quite shake. There was no rush of footsteps, no low murmurs of his voice in the hallways. Part of me still felt like I was looking over my shoulder, half-expecting him to appear, to confront me again. But every time it wasn’t him.

The guilt twisted in my stomach, a gnawing, relentless ache that wouldn’t let up. I’d spent so long fearing for myself, worrying about keeping my family intact, that I hadn’t fully considered the toll on those around me, like Doc Harry. And now he was gone—disappeared, punished, or worse. I’d gambled on his loyalty, pulling him into my scheme, and now he was paying a price I could never make up for. I felt helpless, angry at myself for making choices that only seemed to spiral into disaster.

I knew what the Alpha could do to those he deemed traitors, and I couldn’t shake the thought that Harry might be suffering in some dark cell because of his part in my lie. And for what? For believing in me.

Then, when Nelly appeared, it felt like one last verdict on my mistakes. I’d always counted on her support, her friendship, thinking somehow that she might see the desperation that had led me here. But her tone was as cold and distant as her words, full of bitter disappointment.

Her words had a finality to them, as if she had already decided I was no longer worth her time, no longer the friend she had once confided in and cared about. I had always thought of her as family, someone who would look past my mistakes. But now, standing in front of her, hearing the anger in her voice, I realized that maybe I had lost her for good. And it hurt more than I had expected.

I knew I was at fault; I had lied, and I had involved people who trusted me. But I couldn’t ignore the root of it, the reason I’d felt compelled to deceive everyone. All I had wanted was for someone to believe me, to see through Lily’s manipulations, to trust me when I said I wasn’t trying to harm my son. But instead, they had doubted, assumed, left me alone with suspicions that were easier to accept than the truth. And, in that isolation, I had made choices that now felt like mistakes etched in stone.

"There’s a cottage for you and Ash," she’d said, her voice even, as if she were delivering any other pack news. "Close enough that he can see his father. Close enough that we can keep an eye on you, I suppose."

The words stung. She didn’t look at me the way she used to; instead, she looked at me as though I were a stranger, someone who had gone too far to be forgiven. I forced myself to ask after her, hoping to break through her resentment, to find some crack in the mask of disappointment that hid the friend I once knew.

"You don’t deserve to know how I am," she replied, her voice laced with pain and anger. "After what you put me through—what you put all of us through, thinking you were dying... I cared about you, Leila. We all did."

I swallowed hard, feeling my chest tighten. She continued, her voice growing louder, the pain in her words only making the guilt in me swell.

"Do you even know how it feels? To think that someone you care about is dying, to grieve them, only to find out it was all some twisted game? Drake told me everything," she said, voice trembling. "You were only... playing with our feelings."

Every sentence felt like a cold slap, a reminder of how many people I had hurt, intentionally or not. She hadn’t come to listen or to understand; she had come to tell me exactly what everyone else thought of me now. To her—and to everyone else—I had toyed with their emotions, allowed them to believe I was dying only to make fools of them all.

And now, the pack’s response was clear: isolation. The cottage they set aside for me felt less like a home and more like a cage, keeping me close enough to keep an eye on, but far enough that I wouldn’t taint the heart of the pack. It was like being exiled without the grace of leaving entirely, tethered to the one part of the pack that would never let me go—my son.

And with that, she turned and walked away, her figure disappearing down the hallway, leaving me standing there, raw and exposed. The shame burned through me, but underneath it, there was something sharper, a resentment simmering deep down. Yes, I’d lied, but I wouldn’t have felt the need to if any of them had truly believed me, truly trusted me. They’d let doubt creep in first, left me to face it alone, and in that loneliness, I had done what I thought I had to do.

It wasn’t the life I had imagined—not isolated in a cottage, ostracized from the people I once held close, and most of all, from my own mate. But here I was, left to pick up whatever shattered pieces were left.

The following day, I left the hospital with only one goal in mind: to collect everything Ash would need and prepare for my departure. When I reached the pack house, I slipped into my room quietly, not wanting to draw attention. I packed a small bag with every baby essential I could find—powder, milk formula, bottles, diapers, and every small comfort I’d managed to gather for him. I added a few of my own clothes and tucked away what little cash I had, most of it from the money Drake had given me for Ash’s things. I needed every bit I could scrounge up for what was to come.

As I finished up, Sandra, the pack housekeeper, entered the room. I forced a calm smile and greeted her, knowing any sign of my true feelings would only arouse suspicion. I told her casually that I’d come back for the rest of my things once I’d settled into the cottage. She didn’t seem to notice anything amiss, nodding as she left. My heart raced as I closed the bag. Each step of the plan brought me closer to freedom, closer to giving Ash the life he deserved. I would not let this pack—or Drake—trap me in this misery any longer.

The walk back to the hospital was harder than I’d anticipated. People I’d once spoken to daily either ignored me entirely or gave me looks of thinly veiled disdain. Conversations hushed as I passed by, and those who once called me "Luna" now regarded me as if I were an intruder. Only the children from the orphanage ran up to me with cheerful, innocent smiles, happy to see me. They greeted me as "Luna," completely oblivious to the scandal the adults whispered about behind my back. I knelt to hug them, thankful for their warmth, the only kindness I’d felt in days.

As I walked on, the resentment inside me grew. Wolves were supposed to stand by one another, to value loyalty above all else—but clearly, that loyalty was conditional. No one had come to me for my side of the story; they’d only heard what they wanted to hear. They took Drake’s word as the only truth without a second thought. I realized then that I despised them, even if I was one of them. Wolves who would turn on their own at the first sign of trouble weren’t the kind of people I wanted around my son.

Clutching the bag of Ash’s essentials, I felt the weight of this pack’s judgment pressing down on me like a suffocating fog. They were supposed to be family, supposed to have my back, yet they’d cast me aside without hesitation. It struck me then, how unreliable they were. Wolves—the very creatures who preach loyalty and pack values—could turn so quickly. All it took was one mistake, one misstep, and the same wolves who once bowed their heads to me as their Luna now treated me as an outsider, unworthy of a second glance. The hypocrisy sickened me.

How could I even consider raising Ash in a place like this? To let him grow up surrounded by people who would always look at me as a failure, a liar, an embarrassment? No way. Not my son. He deserved better than their whispers, their prejudiced stares, their judgment. I wasn’t going to let him grow up watching his own mother be shunned, treated like a weakling, a pariah. The thought alone burned in my chest.

I’d rather be a rogue, cast out into the wilds, than stay one more day in this place. A place that only values you as long as you fit neatly into their mold, as long as you act and suffer in ways that suit their twisted expectations.

I’d raise Ash with my own strength, no matter what it took. He would know love, resilience, and self-worth—not the harsh, conditional loyalty these wolves claimed to offer.