Alpha’s Regret-My Luna Has A Son

2 weeks later.

Tap, Tap, Tap. I look up and see a man tapping on my car window, his flashlight shining in the window of my car before he moves it around, looking in the back of it. I put my hand up when the torch flashes across my face blindingly. He quickly moves it to the side.

“Ma’am, you can’t stay here,” the middle-aged man tells me; he has to be council security because of his uniform. My son Valarian stirs, the bright light waking him, and he lets out an irritated cry. The man moves his torch away entirely, shining it at the ground, and Valarian stops.

“Look, I have noticed your car here for nearly two weeks; this is a train station,” he sighs as I pick up my son out of his fruit box bed and roll down the window a bit so he doesn’t keep yelling, thinking I can’t hear him.

“You really have no place to go, no family?” He asks.

“No, the council kicked me out of the park” he runs a hand down his face before glancing around the parking lot.

“The baby’s father?” I shook my head, knowing that wasn’t an option. He didn’t even believe me, refused to see me even when I begged him to let me on his territory so I could show him the scan, every other time, he hung up the moment he heard my voice, after a while, I gave up.

“You know there are people out that would take him, then you could probably go home.”

abandoning my baby like my parents did me,” I tell him,

child. You’re young if you give him up. You could still have a normal life. Something to think about. I will give

both of us before trying to get comfortable. A single tear runs down my

sure my son is bundled nice and warm, I grab my bucket in one hand and pop the

Once I get into the disabled toilet, I jam the bucket in the sink, filling it with warm water before shimming my pants down to pee. One thing I hated about being homeless was holding my son while going to the bathroom. I couldn’t place him down anywhere,

an umbrella, a baby, and a bucket of water. Somehow I manage it and make it back to the car before placing the bucket down and quickly opening the hatchback to my wagon. I set my son in his bed before hauling my tiny bucket in. I then changed his bum and used soap to lather my washcloth, and

gosh, I miss showering, something I definitely took for granted. I would use the rest stop ones, but I had no fuel to get there and

on formula, bottled water, and nappies. The savings didn’t last long with buying baby clothes and non-perishable food. My car looked like a mini

back; I tried that. My parents weren’t

the older Alpha’s, not the young ones that hadn’t even reached puberty, so with

belly is rumbling. What I would do for a home-cooked meal. I loved mum’s cooking. She was the best cook. A tear slips down my cheek, and I check my phone, yet I know I will find no missed calls. My father disconnected it on me, but I

do about money. The security guard’s words ate at me. “This is no life for a child” I was failing. I needed help and didn’t know who to ask. When it starts to get dark, the Five o’clock train pulls in. I tried to light my candle, so I had light, but my lighter had