My Mate Let Them Kill Our Pup

The leather straps cut deep into my wrists, biting into my skin.

I’d lost track of time in the windowless basement of the Ironveil church. It smelled of damp stone and rotting incense. They’d stripped away my coat, leaving me shivering in a white ceremonial dress—the exact one meant for our mate-bonding ritual. Now, instead of honoring me, the hem soaked in the murky water of a stone baptismal font they’d repurposed for a witch hunt.

A confessional. An execution stage. Take your pick.

I kept my breathing shallow. Every gasp made the strap across my chest bite harder. I needed to stay sharp.

Ethan stood three steps away.

Ethan Hollow. The Alpha heir of the Ironveil Pack. My fated mate. The man whose scent still made my stupid wolf whimper for him. He stared at the floor, fists clenched at his sides, playing the stoic, untouchable leader. But through our frayed, dying bond, I felt him shaking.

Good.

His sister, Victoria, clung to his left arm. She played the fragile victim perfectly—pale, wide-eyed, always looking a breath away from tears. She whispered into his ear, a relentless, toxic hum. I’d spent six months watching her poison this pack against me, and she was almost finished.

Soren, the pack healer, stepped up with his moonstone staff. He was in Victoria's pocket, bought and paid for long ago. He jammed the glowing stone against my temple.

Cold magic pierced my skull, digging violently for my secrets. It didn't ask nicely.

My vision blurred. *Now or never.*

"I'm three months pregnant!" I screamed, my voice raw and echoing off the stone walls. "It's your heir, Ethan! The only cure for your bloodline's curse!"

The room went dead silent.

Ethan’s head snapped up. I knew every micro-expression on his face. For a split second, sheer panic and desperate hope cracked his cold Alpha mask.

Victoria felt his hesitation. She tightened her grip, pressing her cheek against his chest.

"She’s lying, Ethan," Victoria pleaded, her voice dripping with fake pity. "She’d say anything to save herself. A traitor's desperate lie, brother. Don't let her manipulate you."

*Brother.* Everyone in the room swallowed that lie. I watched them accept her innocent act without question.

Ethan looked at me, then down at Victoria. The crack in his mask snapped shut. His eyes turned to ice.

"Ethan, stop him!" I begged, thrashing against the restraints. "You can feel the truth through the bond! You know I'm not lying!"

"There is no bond," Ethan said. His voice wasn’t an Alpha’s roar. It was a cold, empty whisper. "She's lying. Tear the truth out of her, Soren."

Soren twisted the staff. The magic turned into a razor, slicing directly into my brain.

I screamed. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction, but the agony was absolute. It ripped through my mind, but something much worse was happening in my body.

Then came the warmth.

Slow. Thick. Slipping down my inner thighs beneath the white dress.

It wasn’t fear.