For eight months, my Alpha husband Derek smiled as he rubbed my swollen belly, discussing nursery names. I thought he was excited. Then I found the hidden medical file: Vasectomy. One year ago. Irreversible. He believed my pregnancy was a betrayal. But instead of confronting me, he planned a public execution of my dignity. At the pack gala, he and his mistress drugged me with Wolfsbane. Paralyzed and helpless, I was forced to listen as they took bets from the crowd on who the "real" father was. When the pain started and I felt the life slipping from my womb, I screamed for him through our Mind-Link. "Let the bastard die," he replied coldly, severing the bond. I miscarried on the ballroom floor while they laughed. They thought I was broken. They were wrong. I sent him a box containing the remains, accompanied by a forged DNA test proving the child was his. I watched from the shadows as his sanity shattered under the weight of "killing his own heir." Now, he sits in a maximum-security asylum, howling in grief for a son that never truly belonged to him. I sip my champagne in First Class, leaving the wreckage behind. The sterilization had worked perfectly. The baby wasn't his. But as long as he suffers, the truth doesn't matter.
For eight months, my Alpha husband Derek smiled as he rubbed my swollen belly, discussing nursery names.
I thought he was excited. Then I found the hidden medical file: Vasectomy. One year ago. Irreversible.
He believed my pregnancy was a betrayal. But instead of confronting me, he planned a public execution of my dignity.
At the pack gala, he and his mistress drugged me with Wolfsbane. Paralyzed and helpless, I was forced to listen as they took bets from the crowd on who the "real" father was.
When the pain started and I felt the life slipping from my womb, I screamed for him through our Mind-Link.
"Let the bastard die," he replied coldly, severing the bond.
I miscarried on the ballroom floor while they laughed.
They thought I was broken. They were wrong.
I sent him a box containing the remains, accompanied by a forged DNA test proving the child was his.
I watched from the shadows as his sanity shattered under the weight of "killing his own heir."
Now, he sits in a maximum-security asylum, howling in grief for a son that never truly belonged to him.
I sip my champagne in First Class, leaving the wreckage behind.
The sterilization had worked perfectly. The baby wasn't his.
But as long as he suffers, the truth doesn't matter.
Chapter 1
Aleida POV:
Antiseptic usually smells like safety. It means hospitals, healers, and the sterile cleanliness of a pack clinic.
But here, in my husband's private study, it smelled like a lie.
I was shuffling through Derek's paperwork-monthly filing for the Alpha. My belly, heavy with eight months of life, brushed against the mahogany desk. My back ached, a constant reminder of the future Alpha growing inside me.
My wolf pricked her ears.
Something is wrong, Aleida.
I paused. My enhanced senses picked up a faint, chemical odor clinging to a yellow envelope tucked at the bottom of a stack of merger agreements. Old, but distinct.
I pulled it out.
It was a medical record from a private clinic in Zurich. The date was exactly one year ago.
Patient: Derek Hubbard.
Procedure: Silver Seal Sterilization.
Notes: Complete blockage of the vas deferens using liquid silver injection. Irreversible. Probability of conception: 0%.
The paper slipped from my fingers, fluttering to the floor.
I stared at it.
Silver.
We are wolves. Silver burns us. It stops our healing. For an Alpha to inject liquid silver into his most private parts... it was a commitment to childlessness that bordered on madness.
If Derek was sterile a year ago...
I looked down at my swollen stomach. The baby kicked, a strong, vibrant thump against my ribs.
If Derek was sterile, then in his eyes, this baby-our baby, the heir to the Obsidian Pack-was impossible.
A cold numbness spread from my chest to my fingertips.
For eight months, Derek had smiled at me. He had touched my belly. He had discussed nursery colors.
He had been acting.
He knows, my wolf whined, pacing anxiously in the back of my mind. He thinks we betrayed him.
I didn't scream. The shock severed the connection to my voice. I grabbed my car keys. I needed to see him. I needed to explain. Maybe the surgery failed? Maybe the Moon Goddess granted us a miracle?
I drove the SUV toward the Hubbard Enterprises skyscraper, the glass tower that served as the modern headquarters for our pack.
Derek? I reached out through the Mind-Link.
Silence.
Usually, his voice would be a warm hum in my head. Now, it was a wall of static. He had blocked me.
Panic began to claw at my throat. I parked haphazardly and ignored the confused looks of the lobby staff as I waddled toward the private elevator.
When I reached the top floor, the Alpha's office door was closed.
I raised my hand to knock, but my wolf ears twitched. The expensive soundproofing was no match for a Luna's desperate focus.
"She looks like a whale, Derek," a voice sneered. It was Edison, Derek's Beta and supposed best friend. "It's disgusting watching her waddle around, acting like she's carrying royalty."
My hand froze in mid-air.
"It's almost over," Derek's voice came. It was cold. Colder than the winter wind. "The legal team has the papers ready. Once she drops the pup, she's out."
"You have the patience of a saint, Alpha," Edison laughed. "Living with a cheater. Sleeping in the same bed as a woman carrying a Rogue's bastard."
The air left my lungs.
Rogue's bastard.
That was what he thought. Because of the surgery. He was so arrogant, so sure of his own medical procedure, that he decided his Fated Mate was a whore.
"It's not about patience, Edison," Derek said. I heard the distinct clink of crystal tumblers. "It's about punishment. She drove Elsa away. She manipulated the pack to get that ring on her finger. Now, she's going to pay."
"So, what's the bet standing at?" Edison asked.
"Ten high-grade energy crystals," Derek replied smoothly. "I'm betting the father is that stray Rogue we killed near the border last month."
"I'm betting it's the pizza delivery boy," Edison guffawed. "She always looks hungry."
Laughter. They were laughing.
They were gambling on the paternity of my child. They were turning my pregnancy, the most sacred time for a she-wolf, into a locker room joke.
A sharp pain shot through my abdomen. The baby thrashed, as if sensing my distress.
They want to kill us, Aleida, my wolf growled, her hackles raising. This isn't a pack. This is a slaughterhouse.
I stepped back from the door. My legs were shaking so hard I thought I would collapse.
I couldn't go in there. If I walked in now, emotional and pregnant, they would just mock me. Or worse. Derek was an Alpha. If he used his Command on me while I was this fragile, it could hurt the baby.
I turned around and walked back to the elevator. Every step felt like walking on broken glass.
I wasn't just a rejected wife. I was a target.
I pulled out my phone. My hands trembled as I dialed a number I had found on a dark web forum for desperate she-wolves weeks ago, thinking I'd never need it.
"This is the clinic," a raspy voice answered.
"I need an appointment," I whispered, tears finally spilling hot and fast down my cheeks. "To terminate. Immediately."
I would not let my child be born into a world where his father bet on his lineage like a horse race. I would destroy everything before I let them hurt him.
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