"You flatlined," says the young girl from before. Her eyes glitter with awe. She can't even stop moving out of excitement, for Goddess's sake. Her ponytail bounces every second.

"What?" I massage the bridge of my nose, trying to subdue the sharp, pulsating pain coming from my head. The migraines appear once in a while, but once they do, it stays for a long time. Sometimes, they are accompanied by a long, high-pitched noise. Perhaps, it's the sound of the monitor flatlining that I, somehow, subconsciously remember.

"Your heart stopped. I saw the monitor produced that loud flat tone." She mimics the sound from her memory. It's disturbing.

"Stop," I plead to her. The more she continues the annoying, whistling sound, the more my head hurts. She doesn't stop. In fact, she seems to enjoy it.

"Stop!" I cry out, "Please... for Goddess's sake."

Finally, she stops right after I scolded her. I shake my head a bit, trying to shake off the pain. Taking a deep and long breath, then exhaling it works wonders as a pain reliever.

If only I can take away my own pain just like I can take away others' pain.

"Sorry." The girl pouts as she looks down to the floor. She sways her body left and right at the awkward tension building in the room.

I look to my right where a baby is sleeping soundly in a cradle just in front of the window.

My baby. My precious daughter.

She is small, and warm, and lovely. Just seeing her fills my entire chest with cherry blossoms and my stomach with butterflies. I feel so full yet so light at the same time. The way her chest rises and falls always brings warmth to me. I don't think I can ever be bored observing her thick lashes, her soft, pink skin, and her plump lips.

She looks just like me.

I swear on my life that I will keep her safe. I will make sure she can be whatever she wants to be.

She won't have to grow up as I did. I will protect her. Now that the Goddess, somehow, has given me another chance to live, I will always keep her safe.

The only problem is that the Goddess has put me back in the very same place I tried so hard to run away from. Perhaps you win some, then you lose some. For the Goddess to keep me alive, she has to bring me back to hell.

That's fine, I thought. The more I think about it, the more I realize that I should just be grateful for being alive. Because I can do something about it. No matter how hard it is, as long as I am breathing, I can decide on my own faith.

The night beyond the window is dark, and though just hours before the pack was celebrating the birth of my baby, the entire village seems to have calmed down by now. Instead of dancing the night away, the pack lights up candles all over the city... and they pray for my wellbeing.

Yes, pray.

I can hear their subtle collective whispers reverberating from all over the village. They toss their beers to pray... for me, which I still cannot fathom why.

Something feels wrong.

This is not the pack I knew, not the pack I grew up in. The pack that I knew would never pray for a woman other than the Moon Goddess. They would not even care to help the women after their arduous labors. Of course, the healers would try the bare minimum to help the mothers, but... if there are complications to the labor, they choose to party with the rest of the pack than try to save the mother. I have firsthand experience with this.

The image of Jen's daughter dying on the operation table comes into mind again. The pack that I knew was that cruel and ignorant. The pack that I knew was hell for women.

Yet they told us to always be grateful that we are the women of the Moon Chaser pack. Because women are treated more poorly in other packs.

I always wonder how the healers, since most of us are women, would do that to other women. But that was how we were raised, and taught to believe. Truthfully, I thought nothing of it too, despite knowing that it's the norm until I saw how lonely Jen's daughter was at her dying moment. That was the moment I questioned everything.

And now I know how wrong it was.

The pack that I knew brainwashed women into accepting the unacceptable. The pack that I knew was full of hypocrisy and manipulation.

It only occurs to me how much I despise my own pack when I am thrown back into this hell. Right after I have experienced bliss and freedom, fate brings me back to the very place I struggle to breathe as a woman.

How cruel.

'At least I am alive,' I keep convincing myself that not all is bad now. At least I can make sure my daughter will not grow up as I did in this pack, manipulated into thinking that we women are less. I will be her shield from the world.

I have decided that we both need to leave, anyway. When the opportunity arises, I won't hesitate.

"Miss," the girl calls me, "Do you have magic inside you?" Her voice never dies down of excitement. She has been asking me too many questions, even before I could ask her what happened to me.

The girl's name is Myria, a young healer apprentice. As an apprentice, she was tasked with cleaning up my body that didn't make it on the operation table. But then I woke up, and the next thing I remember is Mason dragging the senior healer to save me. I have been unconscious since then.

Until now.

I panicked when I woke up a few hours ago. Not caring about the IV line on my hand, I almost jumped out of the bed to look for my baby. But then my eyes caught the sleeping figure next to me, and I couldn't hold back my relieved tears.

Myria found me sobbing next to the baby, and she immediately called the senior healer to check up on me. So now she is keeping me company as we wait for the senior healer to come. While waiting, she tells me that the senior healer had to do an emergency hysterectomy on me –which I had suspected. Then the healer gave me a blood transfusion –which is an objective call based on how much blood I have lost.

"But," I try to ask her, "why was I saved? The pack doesn't normally take that much effort to save women from bleeding to death after giving birth."

For a moment, Myria becomes silent. She looks at me straight in the eyes and I know then that she has the scar we, women of the Moon Chaser pack, all have. The uncertainty about our safety. The sadness that our value is only to give birth, and that after it is fulfilled, the chance for us to be discarded like a pulp that has lost its sweetness.

But instead of answering me, she returns to her storytelling about all the things the healers have done to me. Then she talks about the current trends in the pack; food, fashion. She talks about the trending gossip and the recent scandal of Gamma Geralt.

Honestly, I prefer to wait for the senior healer alone.

"The entire pack stopped doing whatever they were doing as soon as the news broke that you came back alive," she continues without waiting for my answer, "And now the pack believes you are the reincarnation of the Goddess!"

Goddess, I am too tired of her cheerfulness.

"I am not," I answer weakly. My legs are still a bit weak so I can't stand yet. Luckily, the cradle is just next to my bed, so I can touch my baby without having to walk. I like to touch her little hands, tummy, and chubby cheeks. She is so adorable!

I remember Myria telling me that she was the one who bathed and dressed my baby. She said since I had to be operated on right after I 'resurrected,' she had to give my baby formula milk, else my baby would not be able to feed. I thanked her because if a baby isn't fed on the first day, it can increase her risk of having jaundice. My baby sleeps soundly right after being fed. Her skin is a bit reddish, which I think is the most beautiful on a baby. She looks supple and healthy, which is all I can ask for.

"Thank you for taking care of my baby, by the way," I say.

She smiles widely at me. "It's my pleasure! Anything for the Goddess's reincarnation."

"I am not–"

Right then, the door swings open. The loud screeching noise wakes my baby up into a crying fit. It must be the senior healer.

I try to console her with a gentle touch on the stomach and coo to her to stop crying, but her tears won't stop. Not caring about the IV needle in my hand, I try to pick her up. But my arms are still weak, and I only manage to move half of her body.

My arms give up midway and I end up dropping her again on the small bed. The sudden movement must have startled her that she cries even more.

"I'm so sorry," I mumble as I continue to console her by rubbing her stomach again. I haven't even seen the appearance of the senior healer yet. Is it someone I know?

The healer has an earthy scent to her, which is quite normal if she spends a lot of time picking up herbs in the forest. But... there is something a bit off about her scent. Why do I smell testosterone? Somehow her scent feels masculine–which is not something wrong, by the way. It's just unusual.

When my baby won't stop crying, I panic a bit. Biting my lips, I almost attempt to pick her up yet again. But Myria says, "Oh, let me help you! It might be time for her to feed too. It's been a few hours since she slept."

I expect a pair of skinny, feminine hands to reach into the cradle. But my heart almost stops entirely when instead, I see a pair of big, muscular arms.

Arms that have caused a lot of destruction, arms that have set iron rules, and punishment. The very arms that made me flee the pack.

The scent makes sense now.

My heart beats frantically as soon as I realize who it is that just entered the room and tries to reach for my baby.

Out of instinct, I grab his hand hard. My claws are drawn out, my fangs have descended. I snarl at Alpha Mason.

Myria draws a sharp breath at my action. She cups her mouth with two hands. Her eyes are wide like a deer.

Two warriors step into the room once they hear a threatening growl set for their Alpha. Beta Marcel and Beta Fray growl at me viciously. Their claws are out and their fangs are ready to bite without mercy.

I must be out of my mind, but I couldn't care less. No way would I let this man touch my baby girl!

To my surprise, however, Mason doesn't look at me like he is mad. It startles me when I catch his somber gaze. There is no trace of the egoistical Alpha that thinks women are below him in his deep-set grey eyes. It's like he is a different person in Alpha Mason's body.

He looks at me with his eyebrows and eyes drooping. He looks at me with an understanding of my protectiveness to my baby, of why I don't want him to touch her. There is no fiber in his body that exudes the tyrannical feeling I always got from him before.

Is this really the alpha I knew?

Mason raises one hand to his betas. Immediately, both betas withdraw their claws and teeth, even when I haven't. Although I can still feel the betas' strong glares on my skin.

I keep my claws on Mason's arm, and my fangs are still shown. Sasha is ready to take over me at any moment I behest her to. Since I am no longer pregnant, I can shift now. Although transformation in the few months after giving birth would be wobbly because of the hormonal shift. Still, it won't stop us from doing anything we can to make sure our baby girl is safe.

"But Alpha–"

Mason cuts off his own beta with a stern voice. "Leave us." The way he looks at his betas is so different from the way he looks at me.

It somehow reminds me of when I first met Lyall. He treated me differently from how he treated others because he was cursed. But... Alpha Mason would not have the same curse, right? The Goddess would be mocking me if she keeps on throwing cursed men at me.

I blink at Mason's order to his betas. In a moment of surprise, I stop showing my fangs to him, even loosening my grip on his arm.

Something feels off. I can just feel it in the air, but I can't point out what's wrong.

I look down at my baby. She has stopped crying and is starting to resume her sleep. Does she not feel threatened at all by Mason's presence? Babies usually are more sensitive to their surroundings.

When Mason glares at his betas for not following his order soon enough, at that moment, I see a fraction of the alpha I used to know. That cruel alpha who ruled with his iron fist. Yet as soon as those betas leave, he turns to me and his gaze softens again.

Could it be that Mason has changed a bit ever since the war? I wouldn't know because I spent months in the Lycan Kingdom.

"You too, Myria," he says.

Without question, Myria bows and leaves the room. She looks at me right before she closes the door. Her eyes suggest to me that I will be fine.

Tch. Does she not know Mason at all? She is young after all, perhaps only thirteen years old, and has not seen the world outside. I pity her in a way. Because she has no way of knowing how things are much better outside of werewolf packs. How the way we, women, live in packs is actually far from decent.

However, knowing that Mason's attitude doesn't deter Myria one bit, means that it's not that unusual for him to act like this. Perhaps a few months can make a person change drastically.

Still, I would not put my bet on Mason. Not when my daughter is involved. So I keep my claws and fangs as a warning to the alpha, then shoot him a strong glare.

To my surprise, Mason gives up. He raises his hands in the air, revealing his palms to me, as a sign of defeat. As a sign that he is not a danger to me and my baby. A sign that he comes with peaceful attention.

When he backs down, only then do I retract my claws and fangs. I blink several times, trying to make sure that I have not read his face and gestures wrong.

"I understand why you would not want me to touch her," he says in a gentle voice. His eyes are still drooped, as if he's tired, as if he has been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. "After all, you risked your life running away from me."

He takes in one giant breath. "I'm sorry. I truly am."

I blink at this absurdness. Could I be dreaming? I pinch myself on the arm and I can feel the pain. So, this is not a dream. Still, I blink a few more times, making sure that the man in front of me is real. That I am not only imagining his words and actions.

Did Myria give me a potion or something?

He looks exactly the same. Well-built body, tanned skin, dark hair, grey eyes, sharp nose and jaw, prominent lips. He is always a tad shorter than Ed, but I can't lie. He is a beautiful specimen. There is, however, a thick scar across his left eye, which I have never seen before. Although the still reddening scar does not devalue his charm. It actually makes him look... more exotic.

"I'm sorry if I scared you before," he continues, "if I startled you just now, too. I made you run away before, made you feel like you are in danger in your own pack, and for that, as the alpha, I sincerely apologize."

Huh?

"Who... are you?" I scoff with a thin, wary smile. "You can't be Alpha Mason. The Alpha Mason would not apologize like this. Especially to a female."

He returns my scoff with a weak smile. "Well, I am not the Alpha Mason you used to know. The war has changed me. And in the few months you have been gone, I have become a better man. I'm not saying I'm a good man now, I still have a long way to go, but... I'm better."

Squinting my eyes, I ask him, "Why did you save me?" A memory flashes in my mind about the moment he rushes into the operating room as soon as he finds out about me waking up. I saw the relief mixed with panic in his eyes, which is a conflicting feeling. He looks like he was battling with himself whether to save me, though the way he ordered the healers in urgency suggested that he really wanted me to be alive.

He takes a few steps back to lean on the wall across from me, giving space for me and my baby. Instantly, I pull the cradle to be nearer to my bed. At any moment of danger, I will use all my strength to pick my baby up and run for our lives.

Mason, however, seems sad. He looks at me with a face full of conflict. Then he heaves a long sigh. "Mars, I never wanted you to feel like you were in danger with me, with the pack," he says, "I'm sorry that I scared you months ago and made you run away when you were... pregnant."

"You wanted me because I am a fertile femal–"

"No, that's not it!" His eyes glimmer with tears, which shocks me to the core. The Alpha Mason I knew would never have shown weakness like this to anyone. It truly feels like he is carrying an insurmountable weight and it is killing him and now he is at the point of breaking. His shoulders hunch a bit, making him appear shorter than I remembered him.

Heaving another long sigh, his face turns into a myriad of sadness and regret. "It's a long story," he whispers. "But I hope you would make time to listen to it completely. Please."

I don't know what to answer. His words freeze me on the spot. I never thought that the Alpha Mason would beg me to listen to his side of the story, to listen to his reasons.

On one side, I feel relieved that Mason seems to understand why I am still apprehensive and he has not shown any threats to me or my baby. On the flip side, I can't shake off the feeling that something has definitely gone wrong. And it's not just Mason, but the whole pack.

Things feel off.

'I agree,' Sasha whispers to me. 'Keep your guard up.'

But to Mason, I nod in agreement. Perhaps his story would be the puzzle pieces I need to make me understand what happened during the months I was gone.

"When the war with the vampires broke," Mason started his story, "I assembled our warriors to march for war. Gina..." His voice cracks a bit when he says her name.

He clears his throat to continue the story. "Gina... asked if she could come march with the warriors. She offered her help to cook and clean the tents so the males could just worry about the war. I agreed to that."

His throat wobbles. I understand now that it's a thorn in his heart when he speaks of his fated mate.

"But I actually knew that she would try to run away. She was waiting for the moment when we faced the vampires on the first day of the battle for her to escape. I..." He has to clear his throat again. "I... thought I would be better off without her. So then I can take another female because she hasn't been able to conceive. So I didn't do anything when she escaped. I was too preoccupied with winning the war."

He lets out a weak scoff. "Ed advised me to try to win her back. And I was so prideful that I instead talked bad about her. Actually, Ed had advised me multiple times to treat Gina better." He looks at me with guilt. "I was such an asshole."

I gulp. "You were." We stare straight into each other's eyes. Before, I would not have dared to call him an asshole. But... something tells me that he has indeed changed, at least his view about certain things has changed. And that it's because of his fated mate.

It would be a wonderful story had I not known about his mate's death in the war.

The one reason he chased me months ago was that he became mateless and needed another female. This is the side of the story I have always known.

But Mason, as it turns out, has another reason for wanting me.

–to be continued–