He Chose His Secret Son Over Our Unborn Pup

ct. I was the architect of our beautiful life, putting my ow

: an invitation to the christening of his son. A son I neve

nd accusing me of trying to steal him away. To protect his son, Emilio shoved me. I fell, hit my head, and

omfort his son and mistress, abandoning me, our marr

ng water below. But I survived. I let the world believe I was dead as I accepted a prestigious a

pte

ene

stripes of gold across the Italian marble floor. I watched the coffee maker drip, the rich

leader of the Black Moon Pack and a ruthless billionaire in th

d shoulders tense as he stared at a tablet. The scent of him-like cedar after a blizzard, mixed with a hint of wild be

tly, placing the cof

urn away when a notification popped up on his screen. It was

ra Vance, Sil

ory Blackwood's First

mate. Before I could process it, the notification vanished, retracted as quic

began to sprout in t

unsteady legs. Who was Rory Bl

ly inside me. *Somethi

d all members of our pack. It was a sacred bond, especially between an Alpha and his future Luna. It

il

that always felt like home. I pushed past the surface thoughts o

was on pack territory. At

ribs. He had told me he had

thought, I grabbe

behind a thicket of ancient oaks and approached on foot, my senses o

holding a small boy, no older than two, with Damien's own jet-black hair and piercing grey eyes. Th

. She was beautiful, with silver-blonde hair and a predatory gr

is voice a sweet, high-pitched sound that

oked like a perfect

a of us having a pup, my voice full of hope. Damien had shut me down gently, saying the p

a bitter poiso

tales. The moment Damien walked into the room, though, something primal had awakened in me. The world had tilted on its axis. His scent had hit me first, that intoxicating blizzard-cedar-and-berry mix that made my blood sing. My heart had beg

in

The moment his skin touched mine, a jolt of pure electricity had shot up my arm. He had

t was al

oed in my head, a violat

ove? Is every

dows, my hand clamped over

my mental voice trembling

ith the Elders,* he lied.

n, I could hear it. The faint sound of a child

as day, Rory w

ust Beta Marcus's pup,* he rushed to say. *You know h

ered t

back to the boy, murmuring soft words, his

just break; it

aved for months. An offer from the Alpine Crest Pack, a neutral, prestigious pack of master craftsmen

out my

acc