The Alpha’s Plus Size Obsession novel Chapter 8

8 

Mary Ann 

The first few days in the Luna Wing passed in a quiet blur of determination. I refused to sit idle while the mate bond pulled at me and Modric kept his distance. Instead, I toured the pack lands thoroughly, listening more than I spoke. What I saw broke my heart in places. 

The kitchens were chaotic–food wasted daily because of poor storage and outdated systems. The infirmary lacked basic supplies and organization, leaving healers overwhelmed, And the orphan quarters… the children there had threadbare blankets and meals that barely satisfied growing wolves. I didn’t complain or demand changes from the top. That wasn’t my style. I rolled up my sleeves instead. 

I started small. In the kitchens, I worked alongside the older women, quietly reorganizing shelves, creating inventory lists, and showing them simple ways to preserve leftovers. We turned scraps into nourishing stews and redistributed excess to families who needed it most. The changes saved enough supplies in just a few days to feed several struggling households. The infirmary came next–sorting herbs, cleaning, and making sure every healer had what they needed. The orphan quarters got fresh linens I arranged from storage and extra playtime with stories I told in the evenings. 

The older women began to like me first. They saw the effort, the way I listened to their stories and laughed at their jokes without putting on airs. The children followed soon after, crowding around me with bright eyes when I visited. One afternoon, as I helped serve lunch in the main hall, an elderly pack member named Elder Mira took my hands in her wrinkled ones. Her eyes shone with warmth. 

“The Moon Goddess chose wisely,” she said loud enough for several others to hear. “You have a good heart, child. This pack is already brighter for it.” 

Her blessing settled over me like a soft blanket. For the first time since the wedding, I felt truly seen. Not as the “Fat Luna” or the alliance bride, but as someone who belonged. 

The praise from the elders during lunch that day came as a surprise. They raised their glasses in my direction, voices warm as they spoke of the improved kitchens and the hope blooming in the younger ones. I smiled modestly, cheeks warm, focused on the good it was doing rather than the attention. 

Modric ruined it the moment we were alone. 

He’d pulled me into a private side room off the main hall after the meal, his expression thunderous. 

The door clicked shut behind us, sealing us in tense silence. 

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