Rejected By The Alpha, Carrying His Secret Pup

Aurelia POV

The crisp medical paper in my trembling hands felt heavier than a silver blade.

*Positive.*

I stared at the word until the sterile, chemical scent of the human hospital faded from my memory, replaced by the rushing pine breeze outside my car window. I was pregnant. Against all odds, my wolfless body was carrying the heir of Alpha Graves Buchanan, a man whose veins burned with ancient Lycan blood.

Today was our third Union Anniversary. When Graves’s Beta texted me an hour ago, ordering me to the Grand Hall, my foolish heart had fluttered. For three years, our political marriage had been a cold, silent cage. But as the car approached the Pack's center, I saw the Grand Hall draped in magnificent black banners and expensive white lilies.

*He remembered,* I thought, pressing a hand to my still-flat stomach. *Maybe this pup is the miracle we need. Maybe today, he will finally look at me as his Luna.*

I stepped out of the car, my chest tight with the biggest hope I had dared to harbor in years. The heavy oak doors of the Grand Hall stood open, spilling golden light and the overwhelming energy of hundreds of shifting wolves into the twilight.

But as I crossed the threshold, the smile died on my lips.

This wasn't an anniversary celebration.

The air was thick with a sickeningly sweet scent—crushed poppies. It cut through the musk of the Pack, suffocating and familiar. I froze at the edge of the red carpet.

There, in the center of the room, stood my husband. Alpha Graves was a god among mortals, his broad shoulders straining the fabric of his tailored suit, his aura commanding absolute submission. But he wasn't looking at the door waiting for me. He was looking down at the woman tucked intimately against his side.

Davina Stewart. His first love. The "savior" who had supposedly died years ago.

She wore a stunning red dress, her cheeks flushed as she leaned into Graves’s chest. When a clumsy warrior bumped a table, sending a glass of champagne toppling, Graves moved with lightning speed. He pulled Davina behind him, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist, his chest rumbling with a low, possessive growl that sent shivers down the spines of everyone nearby.

The look in his eyes as he checked her for glass shards—it was a tender, consuming fire I had never, ever seen directed at me.

Because I was wolfless, I couldn't hear the Pack's Mind-Link. But I didn't need to. The hushed whispers of the Warriors standing near me were loud enough.

"The real Luna is finally home," a burly guard muttered.

"Thank the Goddess. That wolfless Fitzgerald girl was just a useless placeholder to appease Elder Cecelia anyway. It’s embarrassing having her around."

Every word was a silver bullet tearing through my chest. The joy of the life growing inside me turned to ash. Graves hadn't summoned me to celebrate our union. He had summoned me to witness