My Alpha Let His Mistress Kill Our Unborn Child

I stood before the mirror in our—no, his—bedroom, my fingers trembling as I wrapped the silk bandage around my wrist. Not to hide a wound. To hide the tremor that had started three months ago, the physical manifestation of a bond slowly dying from neglect.

The white fabric felt cool against my skin as I tied it with practiced efficiency. Luna Gabriella of the Blood Claw Pack couldn't afford to show weakness. Not tonight. Not at the Annual Moonlight Gala where every visiting Alpha would scrutinize Bruno's mate, searching for cracks in the legendary bond that had once defied the Lycan Council itself.

I reached for the small vial on my vanity—scent blocker, thick and clinical. The label promised twelve hours of complete masking. Twelve hours of being invisible, even to werewolf senses. I uncapped it and applied the gel to my pulse points: wrists, throat, behind my ears. The places where my natural scent would normally bloom.

The places Bruno used to bury his face and breathe me in like I was oxygen itself.

Now he sought that scent in others. Young she-wolves with innocent eyes and naive laughter. Girls who smelled like I used to, before three years of being Luna had stripped away whatever fragile sweetness had captivated the Blood Claw Pack's most feared Alpha.

I watched my reflection blur as the blocker took effect, erasing my presence until I became ghost-like. Fitting. I'd been a ghost in my own mating for months now.

The balcony doors were open, letting in the cool night air and the sounds of the gala beginning below. I should go down. Greet the guests. Smile. Play the role of the devoted Luna standing beside her powerful Alpha.

But first, I allowed myself this moment of weakness. I stepped onto the balcony and looked down at the grand hall's entrance, where luxury cars were pulling up in an endless stream of wealth and power.

And there he was.

Bruno emerged from a black Mercedes, his Alpha aura radiating even from this distance. He wore a tailored black suit that emphasized his predatory grace, his dark hair perfectly styled. He looked every inch the legend—the Alpha who had endured the brutal Gauntlet trial, who had defied the Council, who had transformed himself from monster to mate.

For me. He'd done it all for me.

Then she stepped out behind him.

Kayleigh. Young, bright-eyed Kayleigh with her artless smile and her innocent scent that Bruno claimed reminded him of simpler times. She wore a pale blue dress with delicate embroidery along the bodice, her blonde hair falling in soft waves.

My breath caught. I knew that dress. Not the exact one, but its twin. I'd worn it to our first pack gathering as mates, back when Bruno would pull me close and whisper that I was his salvation, his peace, his everything.

Now that dress adorned his companion while I stood alone on a balcony, wrapped in bandages and scent blockers, trying to disappear.