Fleeing From The Heartless Alpha

I've been bound to Damian Westbrook for two years, and I finally made up my mind to change my last name to match his, to make our sacred bond official in every way. It felt like the right step, you know? A way to cement us, to show the world I'm his she-wolf, his mate, forever.

But when I got to the pack's records office, things went sideways fast. The clerk, a wiry wolf with glasses perched on his snout, scanned my papers, muttering, "Name: Amelia, 23, unbound."

"Hold up," I cut in, my voice sharper than I meant. "I've been bound to Damian for two years!" I yanked out the ornate binding scroll, its wax seal gleaming with our pack's crest, and slid it across the counter.

The clerk's eyes flicked over it, then back to me, his expression twisting into something unreadable, like he'd just sniffed out bad meat. A few minutes later, he pushed the scroll back, his voice low. "Ms. Westbrook, I suggest you take this to the pack's council hall. You can still change your name without being bound, if you want. Do you?"

My stomach churned. I didn't even answer-just grabbed my stuff and bolted, hailing a ride to the council hall like my life depended on it.

What I found there hit me like a claw to the chest.

"She-wolf," the council elder said, her amber eyes soft with pity, "Damian's mate, as recorded, is Hazel Wynn. Not you."

The world tilted. My right ear, the one that's been deaf since forever, started ringing, a sharp, piercing wail that drowned out everything. My knees buckled, and as I crumpled, one thought clawed at my mind: Hazel's just a stand-in, right?

She was supposed to be the she-wolf Damian clung to while I was gone for three years, studying abroad in another pack's territory. A substitute to ease his longing for me. So why-why-was she listed as his mate?

I woke up in the healer's den, the sterile scent of herbs stinging my nose. My first thought was Damian. I needed answers. I needed him to tell me this was all a mistake. But when I got to his den, I froze outside the door, overhearing voices that shattered me all over again.

"When are you gonna get that birth-block ring out of Amelia's body?" a gruff voice demanded-probably Marcus, Damian's old healer friend. "It's shifted already. If it stays in, she'll get womb-rot. She'll never bear pups!"

Birth-block ring?

My hand flew to my belly, disbelief choking me. I flashed back to two years ago, right before our binding ceremony. I'd been doubled over in agony, and Damian, his face tight with something I couldn't read, swore it was just a bad gut flare-up. "Nothing serious, Amelia," he'd said, all calm and certain. "Just a quick fix." When I woke up after the healer's work, my stomach felt wrong, heavy, but Damian's soft voice soothed me. "Just recovery jitters, love. Don't worry-it won't