C1 What if

Vealore’s POV

The trembling beneath me came first, a shudder so violent it pulled me out of sleep. My eyes cracked open to the sound of coughing, deep, ragged coughs that rattled his chest. At first I thought it was another of those restless dreams, but then I saw him. My mate, Jupiter.

He was doubled over, his body shaking, one hand clutching his mouth. I sat up instantly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“What’s wrong, babe?” My voice was sharp with fear.

“I.... ” he choked between coughs, “I, cough, am, cough, fine.”

“Yeah, I can see… oh my goddess.”

The moon nearly fell out of the sky in that moment. Blood, Crimson, fresh blood smeared across his palm. His lips were stained with it, his chest heaving as though each breath was a battle he was losing.

“Jupiter...!” I didn’t think, don't have time to, I didn’t breathe, don't remember I have to, I scooped him into my arms with the strength of my wolf, not caring that we were still in pajamas and house slippers. The world blurred into panic as I carried him down to the car.

Every cough shook through him, wet and violent, each one stealing a piece of me. I drove like a madwoman, ignoring red lights, ignoring the horns that screamed at me. All I saw was his face, pale and damp with sweat, his lips trembling as if he wanted to apologize for scaring me.

“Hold on, Ju,” I whispered, pressing one hand against his thigh as I sped. “Please hold on.”

The hospital swallowed us in white light and cold air. Nurses rushed forward when they saw the blood, wheeling him away from me. I tried to follow, but the doors slammed shut in my face. The sterile smell of disinfectant and the echo of my own heartbeat pressed against my lungs until I couldn’t breathe.

They gave him something to calm the cough, and soon he was asleep, his chest rising and falling more evenly. Relief washed over me, but it didn’t last. I sat beside him, clutching his hand in both of mine, whispering silent prayers to the Moon Goddess.

Protect him, please. Take anything else, but not him.

“Mr. Drys?”

The doctor’s voice dragged me back. I rose instantly. “Yes, I’m Mrs. Drys, his wife.”

“Please, come with me to my office.”

I looked at Jupiter one last time, my husband and my Luna, followed him.

The doctor gestured for me to sit. I barely felt the chair beneath me, only the pounding of my wolf’s anxious pacing inside my head.

“Ma’am,” the doctor began, his tone heavy, “we ran a series of tests on your husband. We found out that he has NSCLC, non-small cell lung cancer...Stage two.”

The world stilled, my ears rang.

“What?” My voice cracked. “Why?:why lung cancer of all things? He doesn’t even smoke!”

The doctor’s eyes softened. “Ma’am, smoking is only one factor. There are many others, environmental, genetic, even prolonged exposure to certain toxins. What matters now is that it’s treatable, but you must act quickly. Surgery is the recommended course, before it spreads further.”

I swallowed hard, gripping my knees. “Surgery…” The word felt like a knife. “What are his chances?”

“With surgery, around sixty to seventy percent.”

sixty to seventy, numbers, cold, clinical numbers when all I wanted was certainty.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

I forced myself to stand and return to him. My wolf stirred, restless and uneasy.

Sixty to seventy percent l? she growled in my head.

“Yes,” I whispered.

Where is Jupiter?

“He’s here. Sleeping.”

I brushed my hand against his warm skin, his fingers twitching faintly at my touch. My wolf sighed contentedly at the bond, though sorrow threaded the sound.

What’s wrong with him?

I clenched my jaw. “Calm down. He has lung cancer. But it’s… treatable. Surgery. Sixty to seventy percent chance.”

Silence. Then, raw fury. Lung cancer? And you slept while he was suffering? What kind of mate are we?

Her words sliced deeper than the doctor’s. I pressed my forehead against his hand. “Don’t beat me down, buddy. I want to be strong for him when he wakes up.”

The silence stretched, my memories lap. That cough, how it began a month ago. I’d begged him to see a doctor, but Jupiter had brushed it off. Just a cold, he’d said. He’d taken over the counter medicine, promised me it was nothing. The cough had stopped for a while, and I’d dared to hope. Then it came back, harsher, crueler. We fought about it, argued even, until my resolve was broken. But Jupiter, stubborn, very stubborn but gentle had refused.

How I wished I’d forced him. Tied him up if I had to. Dragged him here kicking and screaming. Maybe then… maybe this wouldn’t be stage two.

I kissed his hand, tears spilling onto his skin. If anything happens to him, it’s my fault. I failed my mate. The one I was meant to protect.

A faint whisper stirred me.

“Vea?”

His voice was so weak I almost missed it. My wolf sharpened every sense instantly. I touched his cheek with one hand, clutching his with the other. He squeezed back, fragile but real.

“Vea?”

“Yes, babe. I’m here. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine…” His eyes flickered open, glassy. “Is it too bad?”

My throat closed. I forced a smile through tears. “No. It’s still okay.”

“You’re crying,” he murmured.

“I’m n—” My voice cracked. “Babe… you know about your health?”

His gaze wavered. “I… I didn’t know how to tell you. I wanted to, before the surgery was booked. I’m sorry.”

Pain sliced through me sharper than claws. “Why didn’t you tell me? Am I not trustworthy enough?”

“No, Vea, you are. I just… didn’t want you to worry. Or get hurt.”

“So you’ll do the surgery?”

“Yes. I will. I’m really sorry.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and kissed his knuckles. “It’s okay, my love. Don’t worry, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The next hours blurred. I signed the papers. The surgery was booked for the day after tomorrow. But when I returned to his room, he was already dressed. Ready to leave.

“Ju, don’t you think it’s best to stay here until surgery?”

He shook his head with that gentle smile that had undone me from the start. “If I stay, I’ll just feel nervous. The walls here… they suffocate me. Let me go home, Please.”

I hesitated. “We won’t go to the pack house. I’ll pay for a nearby hotel, safer and quieter.”

He smiled faintly. “Alright, babe. Let’s go.”

We booked a suite, the kind with too bright lights and a bed too big for just us. But it was away from the hospital, and he seemed lighter for it.

I was not.

Every step, every breath, weighed heavy. My wolf wailed inside me, her grief echoing through my bones. I had been with Jupiter for five years, a year of dating, four of marriage. He was my Luna, my joy, my anchor. And I… I had already failed him once.

We were from the Black Moon Pack, one of the strongest in the state, the third most powerful in the world. An empire of wolves, feared and revered. But what was power, when I couldn’t even protect the one I loved?

Three years ago I’d miscarried. Since then, no children. We had tried, oh, how much we tried. As Alpha, I could not carry pups if mated with an omega. But Jupiter was human. My human. Which meant I was the one to bear the children. Each month ended in tears, in disappointment. He’d smile and say we had time. I’d smile and pretend I believed it just for him

But what if time was running out? What if we don't have it anymore?

I watched him sleep in that hotel bed, his chest rising unevenly, the shadow of sickness clinging to his skin. My wolf pressed against me, restless, whispering dark things I didn’t want to hear.

What if he doesn’t survive? What will we do then, Vealore? Will we lead the pack alone? Will we wake to an empty bed every morning? Will we even survive it, Vealore? We can't survive it if anything happens?

“No.” I whispered into the darkness, shaking my head. “No, I won’t let that happen.”

But my voice cracked.

And in the silence that followed, I swore I heard him cough again, faint, muffled against the pillow. The sound made my stomach twist.

I reached for him, brushing hair from his damp forehead. My wolf whimpered.

Then, he stirred. His lips parted.

“Vea…” he breathed.

“Yes, babe?”

His hand, trembling, reached for mine. His eyes fluttered open, glassy with something I couldn’t name.

“I...” His lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “If I don’t make it…”

“Don’t.” My voice broke. “Don’t say that.”

“Promise me,” he whispered, “you’ll take care of the pack. That you’ll… live.”

“No.” Tears blurred my vision. “We’ll face this together. You’ll live. You have to.”

But his fingers tightened weakly on mine, and the shadow in his eyes made me realize, he didn’t believe it.

And for the first time, neither did I.