Irina’s POV

The apartment was quiet.

I sat in the rocking chair by the window, letting the afternoon sunlight spill across the floorboards. It warmed my bare feet, a sensation I was still getting used to. I looked down at the weight in my arms. My son. He was sleeping, his tiny chest rising and falling in a steady, perfect rhythm. His little fists were curled securely under his chin, tucked into the soft cotton of his blanket.

I traced the line of his cheek with my pinky finger. Every time I looked at him, my heart did this painful, wonderful flip. I couldn’t believe he was real. I couldn’t believe he was mine. After everything I had endured—the beatings, the rejection, the cold, hard floors, and the suffocating terror of the Mad King’s palace—I had finally reached this moment. I had him.

He shifted, his tiny eyelids fluttering. I held my breath, afraid to disturb the fragile magic of the afternoon.

"I’ve got you," I whispered to the empty air. "I’m right here."

The front door clicked open, breaking the spell.

"I come bearing gifts!" Mia’s voice echoed through the hallway.

She bustled into the living room, dropping a heavy canvas tote bag onto the coffee table with a thud. She was wearing her usual oversized sweater and leggings, her dark hair thrown up into a messy, chaotic bun. She made a beeline for the rocking chair, her face softening the moment she saw the baby.

"Give him to me," she demanded, her arms outstretched. "I need my fix. Med school prep is literally destroying my soul."

I laughed, a sound I was still learning to trust. I carefully transferred the baby into her arms. Mia melted. The sarcastic, quick-witted nineteen-year-old vanished, replaced by someone utterly gentle. She cooed and bounced him, her focus entirely on his tiny face.

"Are you being good for your mom?" she whispered to him. "Yes you are. Yes you are."

I watched them, a massive wave of gratitude washing over me. Mia was my lifeline. She and her parents had saved me when I was a bleeding, terrified stranger with no future and no name. Now, Mia was like an aunt to my son. She was the sister I had never had, the family I had been denied.

"He slept for four hours straight last night," I said, stretching my shoulders.

"A miracle child," Mia declared. "Truly a genius. He clearly takes after me."

I rolled my eyes, smiling.

Mia carried him over to the couch, cradling him securely while she reached over to unzip her heavy tote bag. She pulled out three massive, intimidating medical textbooks and dropped them onto the table. I stared at them. They were covered in dense text, complex diagrams, and hundreds of colorful sticky notes.

A sharp, cold pang of envy twisted in my chest.

It wasn’t a malicious feeling, but looking at those books reminded me of exactly what I had been forced to sacrifice. I was eighteen. The same age as most girls starting college. But my life had been set in stone before I could even choose. I was an omega, then a runaway, and now, I was a mother. I never got to go to school. In the pack, education was a luxury denied to people like me. I was pulled out of lessons and sent to the kitchens, my life narrowed down to scrubbing floors and making myself invisible.

I had a healing gift now. My wolf was back. But I had no formal knowledge. I was just a girl who knew how to survive, not how to build a life.

"You okay?" Mia asked, her eyes darting to my face.

I snapped my hand back from the books, pretending to be startled. "Yeah. Just... those look really hard."

"Irina," she said, her voice dropping the sarcasm. "What is it?"

I bit my lip, looking away. "I just... I never got to finish school. Where I’m from, we weren’t allowed to study. We were just put to work."

"I know."

"I look at you," I continued, the words spilling out. "You’re going to be a doctor. You have this bright, amazing future. You’re going to do something important."

"You are doing something important," Mia said fiercely, gesturing to the baby in her arms. "You’re keeping a human life alive. That’s the most important thing there is."

"I know. I love him more than anything." I pressed a hand to my chest. "But I just wish I knew things. Real things. Not just how to hide. I wish I had a choice."

Mia stared at me for a long moment, then rolled her eyes.

"Irina, you are eighteen years old."

I blinked, confused. "What?"

"You act like your life is over. You act like you’re an eighty-year-old woman looking back on a lost century. You have a baby, so what? My mom had me during her residency. She was working eighty-hour weeks and raising a toddler. It was hell, but she did it."

I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed. "That’s different. She was already a doctor. I don’t even have my papers. I don’t have a diploma. I don’t have money."

"We can fix that," Mia fired back. "You can get your GED. It’s an equivalency test. You study, you pass it, and you have a diploma. My dad knows a guy who helps people sort out their documentation. We can fix the ID issue. It’s totally doable."

"It’s too much," I stammered, though my heart was starting to race.

"The baby will grow," Mia said softly. "You have a gift, Irina. You work at the clinic with my mom. You have instincts that nurses take years to develop. You belong in medicine."

She leaned forward, her dark eyes fierce. "There is no rule that says your life stops just because you had a baby. You’re free now. You can be whatever you want."

*You’re free now.*

The words echoed in my head. My wolf hummed in my chest, a warm, strong pulse of agreement. I wasn’t in the pack house anymore. I wasn’t in the Mad King’s palace. I was in a world where a mother’s path didn’t have to be a closed door.

I looked at my hands. They were scarred, yes—the knuckles were slightly uneven from the times they had been broken—but they were strong. They had delivered my child. They had healed a dying King. They could hold a pen. They could turn the pages of a textbook.

"A GED," I whispered, the idea feeling like a spark of light in the dark.

"Exactly," Mia grinned. "And I’ll tutor you. I’m excellent at math. Terrible at history, but great at math."

I looked at my son, then back at Mia. I wouldn’t act like I didn’t deserve a future anymore. I wouldn’t hide.

"I need to keep working at Elena’s clinic," I said, my voice growing steadier. "I need to save every single dollar."

"Mom is trying to force you to take a raise anyway. She loves you."

"I’ll take it," I said firmly.

I looked down at the sleeping boy in Mia’s arms. I wanted him to grow up looking at a mother who was strong. A mother who built a life with her own two hands. Not a woman who was always hiding.

"When he’s a little older," I said, a feeling of hope expanding in my chest. "When he’s ready for preschool... I’m going to do it."

"Hell yes you are," Mia cheered.

I pressed my lips together, feeling a resolve take root deep inside me. I was going to earn my freedom. My true, honest freedom.