Chapter 5: Despair! My Child is in Danger

"What?!" My entire body froze, and a piercing chill ran through my veins.

The phone almost slipped from my trembling hand.

"Noah Whitaker..." My voice quivered, and tears spilled uncontrollably.

My son, Noah, he was only five years old!

I stumbled out of the bar, barely managing to hail a passing car. Desperately, I called out the address for the pack hospital.

The car sped through the night, but I felt utterly powerless, gripping the seat with trembling hands. Pain churned in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Tears blurred the city lights outside.

Noah Whitaker, my child, my everything.

He’s so young, so innocent. How could he be shot with a silver bullet? Why him?!

My mind was a chaotic mess, yet memories surged unbidden.

Six years ago, I wasn’t Grant Whitaker’s wife. That fateful night, he drank too much, and we ended up together by mistake.

It was that night that Noah was conceived.

Somehow, news of my pregnancy spread, and the entire pack waited eagerly to mock me.

A wolfless waste like me—how could I ever be worthy of Alpha Grant Whitaker as his Luna? Everyone assumed he would abandon me.

I never thought he’d take responsibility for me or the child.

But at my lowest point, it was Grant’s grandfather, Victor Whitaker, the former Alpha King of Ironmaw, who intervened and ordered Grant to marry me.

That’s how I became Luna of the Thornfang Pack.

If it weren’t for the pregnancy, I never would’ve been his wife.

After the wedding, Grant was distant and cold, his affection as unreachable as a frozen mountain. Every step I took closer, he pushed me further away.

Now, I finally understood—Grant Whitaker had always loved Serena Jordan.

Perhaps even that night with me was a mistake, a moment where he thought I was her.

How laughable.

But at least I had Noah. He made this loveless marriage bearable.

He was my anchor, my light. No matter how the world scorned me, his sweet voice would say, "Don’t be afraid, Mom."

My precious child, my everything. He couldn’t be taken from me!

The car screeched to a halt in front of the hospital.

I rushed inside, the sharp smell of disinfectant stinging my lungs.

The doctor emerged from the operating room, his expression grave. "Luna, the child’s condition is critical."

My legs gave out, and I nearly collapsed to the floor.

"The silver bullet hit his chest, just centimeters from his heart. If it had struck his heart, he would’ve died instantly," the doctor explained. "We’ve managed to stabilize him for now, but his condition remains precarious. He still has some consciousness and will be transferred to the ICU for further monitoring."

Tears streamed down my face as an unbearable pain tore through my chest.

"My son is only five years old! How could this happen to him?!" I cried, my nails digging into my palms until they bled.

Who would do this? Who would want to kill him? He’s just a child!

But I couldn’t focus on that now. The only thing that mattered was saving Noah.

I grabbed the doctor’s arm, sobbing uncontrollably. "Please, I’m begging you. Save him! I’ll do anything—just save him!"

A glimmer of pity flashed in the doctor’s eyes. He nodded solemnly. "We’ll do everything we can."

I choked out a trembling, "Can I...see him?"

"Once he’s moved to the ICU, you can visit him after sterilization procedures and changing into a sterile gown," the doctor replied.

I didn’t waste a moment, quickly preparing myself. Dressed in the sterile gown, I followed the nurse into the heavy, silent room.

The ICU was stark and cold, the harsh white lighting casting an eerie glow.

Noah lay motionless on the hospital bed, his small body tangled in tubes. Thick bandages wrapped around his chest, and an oxygen mask covered most of his pale face.

He looked so fragile, so lifeless, as if he might slip away at any moment.

I couldn’t accept it. The child who had been so lively, who would run into my arms just yesterday, was now lying here like this.

"Noah..." I collapsed by his bedside, sobbing until I felt faint.

His lips moved slightly. I leaned closer, straining to hear his faint whisper.

"Mom...Mom...Dad..."

He was calling for me and Grant!

I broke down completely, hot tears falling onto his tiny hand.

"Mommy’s here...Don’t be afraid, Noah. Mommy’s right here..."

Through my tears, I fumbled for my phone and dialed Grant’s number with trembling hands. He didn’t answer.

I tried again. And again. Three times, he rejected my calls.

My heart sank as I redialed, desperation clawing at me. Still, he didn’t pick up. Was this deliberate?

Was he ignoring me because of what happened at the bar? Or was he too busy with Serena to care?

Hopelessness swallowed me whole. My hands shook as I hit redial, over and over, until my fingers were raw.

Finally, he answered.

"Can’t you take a hint?!" Grant’s cold voice came through the line, laced with disdain. "Weren’t you having fun with Uncle Spencer? Why are you calling me now?"

I trembled, unable to form coherent words.

"Grant Whitaker..." I choked out between sobs. "Noah is in trouble! Come to the pack hospital now!"