Rejected by My Alpha on My Birthday

After my mate Andre marked Yasmin as his second mate, he and our son poured all their love into her.

On Yasmin’s birthday, they accompanied her into the city to celebrate at a fancy restaurant. Meanwhile, I was out in the pack’s territory, gathering herbs for the healer when I felt a sharp pain and realized I was miscarrying. Desperate, I mind-linked Andre, begging him to come home and take me to the healer.

But he only growled back, "What are you talking about? I haven’t been near you in months! How could you possibly be carrying my pup?"

Our son, Quinton, joined the link, his voice impatient. "Mom, stop lying! Teacher said lying is wrong. Aunt Yasmin’s about to blow out her candles. I’m ending this!"

After seven years as his mate, they had completely forgotten that today was also my birthday.

Heartbroken, I severed the link and reached out to another number.

"Mother," I said, my voice trembling, "I’ve made up my mind. I’m coming back to take over the healing clinic."

---

It was the busiest season for the pack’s herb gathering, and I was out in the territory when I tripped over a root and fell. The moment I stood up, I felt a searing pain in my abdomen.

I stumbled back to the pack house, my steps uneven, and mind-linked Andre again, pleading with him to come back and take me to the healer.

But Andre, the Alpha of our pack, thought I was making excuses to get out of work. "What nonsense are you spouting? I haven’t been with you in months. There’s no way you’re carrying my pup!"

Even Quinton didn’t believe me. "Mom, stop it! You’re just trying to skip work. Teacher said we shouldn’t lie. Aunt Yasmin’s here—we’re about to cut the cake. I’m ending this!"

Before I could say another word, he severed the link.

A month ago, Andre had come home after a pack celebration, his scent heavy with alcohol. He’d pushed me onto the bed, and for a moment, I’d let myself hope he was remembering the bond we once shared. But in the heat of the moment, he’d whispered Yasmin’s name. So, in his mind, my claim of pregnancy was nothing but a lie.

Today was my birthday, but my mate and my own son were too busy celebrating someone else.

Clutching my stomach, I lay on the bed, biting down on the sheets as waves of agony tore through me. It felt like claws were ripping through my insides, pulling everything down. I screamed into the pillow, my cries muffled, as blood soaked the sheets.

For four torturous hours, I endured the pain, and in that time, I realized one thing: it was time to leave.

By evening, I could barely stand, but I managed to get up and brew a restorative tonic. I changed out of my blood-stained clothes and finally reached out again, this time to a number I’d memorized long ago.

"Mother," I