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Andrea couldn’t stop thinking about it.

What if he already knew?

The thought looped in her head like a broken record: Did he know I’m Elena? Did he already realize I’m the same woman he slept with years ago? The one he abandoned? The one who gave birth to his children alone? Did he know I’m his mate?

Her chest tightened painfully. She looked over at the unconscious body of Jaxon, sprawled out on the couch with faint traces of dried blood on his shirt. The same pendant lay around his neck — the key-shaped one she recognized from years ago. Her fingers trembled as she grazed it, as though touching a memory that had refused to stay buried.

She should’ve stabbed him.

For leaving her. For vanishing without a word after that night. For the pain he’d caused. For pushing her to face labor alone. For living while her heart had been bleeding for years.

Her hand hovered near the kitchen knife. She wanted to do it — to let him feel a fraction of the agony he left her to carry. But she didn’t. Instead, she made a choice that surprised even her.

She called for help.

When Jack burst into the locked room and saw Jaxon barely conscious, she quickly made a decision — not to take him to the hospital. Most hospitals were either run by humans or supernatural factions that didn’t look kindly upon certain pack symbols. That tattoo on his chest… if they saw it, he’d likely be finished.

She knew too much now. Even the pendant was proof.

So instead of risking it, she grabbed his phone, found a number labeled Doc Leon – home only, and called. According to Rick and Jack, this same doctor had always treated Jaxon at home. Never the hospital. She stuck to that pattern.

The doctor came swiftly. Older, discreet, and quiet. He barely asked questions and demanded privacy while tending to Jaxon in the guest room. Andrea stepped out, her nerves fraying.

She stood by the hallway, arms tightly crossed over her chest, chewing at her lip as she stared blankly at the wall. Her stomach twisted. Her thoughts louder than her surroundings.

Please don’t die, Jaxon, she prayed silently. You have to wake up. I need you to wake up so I can look you in the eye and make you feel everything I felt. You need to hear it from me. I want you alive when you realize who I am.

Her eyes were glassy, but she blinked rapidly to push the tears away.

Jack’s voice snapped her out of the moment.

“Andrea,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes as he walked closer. “I need to confirm something.”

She turned to him, her face pale, but silent.

“You’re a girl,” Jack continued, not as a question but a conclusion. “You’ve been a girl this whole time, haven’t you? You dressed like a boy, acted like one too, but it was just… pretend.”

Andrea’s face flushed as she reached to adjust her jacket—then remembered she had taken it off to help Jaxon when he was bleeding out. Her singlet had revealed too much. She bit the inside of her cheek.

Jack’s voice cracked. “And Rick… Rick knew, didn’t he? So did Jaxon. I’m the only fool who was left in the dark.”

Rick shifted uncomfortably nearby, not saying a word. His expression was unreadable, but his jaw was tight.

“Since when were we keeping secrets from each other?” Jack demanded. “Since when did we stop being brothers?”

Andrea swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. “My name is Elena… not Andrea.”

Rick and Jack exchanged a look. Shock, betrayal, confusion.

“I am a girl. I’ve always been one,” Andrea said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I had to hide it. Where I come from… I couldn’t risk anyone knowing. There’s a reason—”

Jack cut her off. “You mean there’s more lies.”

Andrea blinked, tears forming again.

“So even your name is fake,” Jack said, voice shaking. “Andrea? That was never real either?”

Andrea looked down, guilt written all over her face. Her hands gripped her arms tightly. “It was just… safer. I didn’t mean to hurt you guys.”

Rick finally spoke, his voice low. “So what were you hiding from? Or should I ask—who were you protecting?”

Andrea looked at him, then at Jaxon’s room, and back at them. She hesitated.

Jack noticed. “Oh. I get it now,” he said with bitter sarcasm. “This is about him, isn’t it? You didn’t want us to take Jaxon to the hospital because of him. Not because you were scared, but because of that pendant on his chest. His tattoo. You didn’t want people to find out who he really is.”

Andrea’s heart pounded in her chest. “It’s not what you think—”

Rick raised an eyebrow. “Then tell us what it is.”

Andrea hesitated again. She couldn’t risk exposing Jaxon’s identity as Alpha. Not yet.

“I just didn’t want the situation to spiral,” she said softly. “If we involved the ER or the police, it would be out of our hands. We’d lose control of everything.”

Jack looked disgusted. “Lose control?” He threw his hands in the air. “You think keeping secrets and letting our best friend bleed out on a couch is control?”

Andrea’s shoulders slumped. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks now.

“Jackson was stabbed,” Jack continued, his voice rising. “And you’re over here talking about control? This whole thing is messed up! You lied about your name, your gender, your purpose — everything. What part of this isn’t a lie, Elena?”

Andrea said nothing. Her eyes were puffy. Her lips quivered, and the silence said more than words.

Rick watched her carefully, concern flickering in his eyes.

Jack’s tone softened slightly but was still laced with hurt. “Why did you come to us, huh? You just appeared out of nowhere, pretending to be someone you’re not. And now all of this—what were you really trying to do? Don’t lie to me.”

Andrea took a shaky breath.

“Yes,” she whispered. “You’re right.”

Jack froze.

“That was the plan,” Andrea continued, her voice cracking. “That’s why I came to you. That’s why I… I slept with you.”

Rick stiffened. Jack’s face twisted in pain.

“But then something changed,” she added quickly. “After living with you guys… it felt like family. You treated me like your sibling. Like someone who mattered. I couldn’t go through with it anymore. I couldn’t hurt you.”

Her eyes pleaded with them. “I just want to be your friend now. That’s all I ask.”

Her words hung heavy in the air.

Her face was soaked, her cheeks red and swollen from crying. Her voice trembled with every syllable.

Jack stared at her for a moment, his jaw clenched. “You know… we cared about you, Andrea. Or Elena. Whatever your name is.”

He let out a bitter laugh, full of pain.

“But now? Now I don’t know what’s real. What to trust.”

He stood abruptly, brushing past her without another word. “What do we even know about you? Nothing. Nothing but lies.”

Andrea tried to speak, but no words came.

He turned back once. “And even your name… your name isn’t Andrea. It never was, right? You made that up too.”

Andrea lowered her head, her body shaking. “Yes,” she whispered. “My name is Elena… not Andrea. I’m sorry.”

Jack’s eyes flickered with something — pain, maybe even a bit of betrayal. “You tried to kill your friend,” he muttered, voice low. “Because of some stupid mission.”

Andrea’s eyes widened. “Jack—”

“I really liked you,” he said, voice cracking.

Then he was gone. The front door slammed behind him, leaving a gaping silence in his wake.

Rick moved closer and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t speak, didn’t push. Just stood beside her as the weight of her confession crashed down around them.

Andrea leaned into him, her arms clinging to him tightly.

She didn’t deserve his comfort. But he gave it anyway.