Chapter 2: The Outsider

Thea’s POV

“I need to go,” I said, the words tumbling out. “Can you watch Leo?”

Sebastian mumbled something; his words were too slow for my racing thoughts. Everything felt distant, as if I were underwater. Finally, his voice cut through: “…want me to watch him now?”

“Please.” I couldn’t meet his gaze, couldn’t bear whatever judgment I might find there. “Just… I can’t take him to the hospital. Not for this.”

A pause followed—perhaps concern, confusion, or annoyance—but honestly, I didn’t care. My mind was already at the hospital.

“I’ll have my mother watch him,” he said, his tone unusually soft; on another day, it might have held meaning.

“Thank you.” I started to leave, then hesitated. “Tell him… tell him I love him? And that I’ll be back soon?”

“Of course.”

The drive to Moon Bay General felt interminable. Streetlights blurred as memories flooded back—growing up in the Sterling Pack, always the outsider, the family's greatest disappointment. The wolfless daughter who shamed our bloodline.

I remembered the last time I’d driven this route—the night Leo was born. It was the only time my father had ever shown me anything resembling pride.

“You can’t come to the ceremony,” Mom would say at every pack gathering, her voice perfectly polite. “You understand, dear? It wouldn’t be… appropriate.”

Roman had tried, at first. My older brother, the future Alpha, sneaking me chocolate after particularly bad days. “They’ll come around,” he’d say. “Just give them time.”

But they never did. Eventually, even Roman’s kindness dwindled to awkward glances across dinner tables.

Then there was Aurora. Perfect, beautiful Aurora and her perfect life. Every pack member’s dream daughter, while I was the nightmare they tried to conceal. The ghost in the family photos, the name never uttered in public.

All of it hurt intensely, but I could have endured it. I had, my whole life. Until seven years ago, when everything fell apart. Aurora swore she never wanted to see me again after what happened. My own sister looked at me as if I were less than nothing. Afterward, even Sebastian and the Ashworth Pack rejected me. Only Leo—my precious Leo—still saw me as someone who mattered.

The hospital parking lot was nearly empty at this hour. I pulled in but couldn't bring myself to get out right away. What was I even doing here? The man dying inside had spent my life making it clear I wasn't truly his daughter. Why should his crisis affect me?

But I was here. Because despite everything, he was my father. Because some stubborn, broken part of me still cared.

The emergency room reeked of antiseptic and fear. “Derek Sterling,” I told the receptionist. “He was brought in with… injuries from a Rogue attack.”

Her eyes widened slightly at the name. Of course—everyone knew the Sterling Pack Alpha. “He’s in emergency surgery. The family waiting room is down the hall.”

I found my mother and Roman in the waiting room. Mom’s blouse was soaked with Dad’s blood, and black streaks of mascara ran down her cheeks. Roman stood beside her, a hand on her shoulder, trying to appear calm despite the palpable anxiety radiating from him.

“What happened?” I asked, keeping my distance.

Roman looked up, his expression hardening at the sight of me. “Rogues ambushed him on his way home. Multiple attackers. They… they nearly tore him apart.” His voice cracked. “The Alpha healing isn't working. They think he might have been poisoned.”

Mom let out a choked sob. I instinctively moved toward her, then stopped. We both knew she didn’t want my comfort.

“He’s in surgery now,” Roman continued. “They’re doing everything they can.”

I nodded, my throat tight. What could I say? Sorry the father who never wanted me might be dying? Sorry I came, even though you all wish I hadn't?

The doors swung open, and they wheeled Dad past us toward the operating room. Mom and Roman rushed to his side. I remained where I was, watching. He seemed small, pale, and broken on the gurney. This man, who had always seemed larger than life, who had ruled our pack with absolute authority, was now fighting for each breath.

“Alpha Sterling,” Mom whispered, clutching his hand. “My love, please fight.”

Roman’s eyes glowed gold as his wolf surged forward. “Father, stay with us. The pack needs you.”

I stood silently, an outsider observing a family moment I wasn't a part of. Dad’s hand moved slightly, passing something to Mom before they wheeled him away. The medical team hurried him through the operating room doors, leaving us in a heavy silence broken only by Mom’s quiet sobs.

The wait was endless. I paced, unable to sit still, as memories crashed over me like waves. Dad teaching Aurora to shift while I watched from my bedroom window. Mom braiding Aurora’s hair before pack ceremonies, while telling me to stay in my room so I wouldn’t embarrass them. The day I turned sixteen and still lacked a wolf, the shame in Dad’s eyes when he announced to the pack that his youngest daughter was wolfless.

Roman made coffee runs. Mom prayed to the Moon Goddess. I circled the waiting room, trying not to dwell on the unfairness of it all—that even now, even here, I still felt like I didn't belong.

Two and a half hours passed before the doctor emerged, his expression grim. “Mrs. Sterling? I’m so sorry. We did everything we could, but your husband’s heart stopped. We couldn’t revive him.”

Mom’s howl of grief shook the walls. Roman caught her as her knees buckled, his own eyes brimming with tears. The sound pierced me, primal and raw—the cry of a wolf who had lost her mate. A sound I would never be able to make.

I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to quell the strange, hollow ache. My father was dead. The man who had never accepted me, never loved me, was gone. I should feel something—grief, relief, anything. Instead, I felt nothing.

Then a terrible thought struck me like a physical blow. Dad’s death meant more than just a new Alpha for the Sterling Pack.

It meant Aurora would have to come home.