Rejected Mate's Revenge

The cramping started at three in the morning, sharp and familiar, like a knife twisting in my abdomen. I'd felt this pain four times before, but it never got easier. If anything, each time felt worse—more desperate, more final.

I doubled over in our shared bed, clutching the sheets as another wave of agony rolled through me. The metallic scent of blood filled my nostrils, and I knew without looking that I was losing another pup. Our pup.

"Dylan," I gasped, reaching out through our mate bond with everything I had. The connection that usually hummed between us felt strangely muted, like trying to call through thick fog. "Dylan, please. I need you."

The cramping intensified, and I bit back a scream. My wolf whimpered inside me, a sound of pure anguish that echoed my own breaking heart. This was supposed to be different. This time, I'd made it past the first trimester. This time, I'd actually started to hope.

I pressed my hand to my lower abdomen, feeling the warmth spreading between my legs. "No, no, no," I whispered, as if I could will the bleeding to stop. "Please, little one. Please stay with me."

The apartment door slammed open, and Dylan's scent—pine and earth, once so comforting—filled the room. Relief flooded through me despite the pain. He was here. My mate was here, and everything would be okay.

"Amaris?" His voice was flat, emotionless. Not the concerned rush of a mate whose bond-partner was in agony.

I turned toward him, tears streaming down my face. "Dylan, thank the Moon Goddess you're here. The baby—I think I'm losing—"

"Another failure." The words hit me like a physical blow. He stood in the doorway, still fully dressed in his Beta uniform, not even moving toward the bed. His dark eyes held no warmth, no concern—just cold irritation. "How many times is this going to happen, Amaris?"

The cramping seized me again, and I curled into myself, sobbing. "Please don't say that. Please, I need you right now. I can't do this alone again."

Dylan's jaw clenched, that familiar tell I'd learned to recognize over our five years together. He was lying about something, or hiding something. But what could he possibly be hiding now, when I was bleeding out our child?

"I can't deal with this right now," he said, checking his phone. "Marcus needs me at the pack house. Emergency Beta meeting."

"Emergency?" I struggled to sit up, my voice breaking. "What emergency could be more important than—"

"Pack business, Amaris. You wouldn't understand." He was already backing toward the door. "Call Elena if you need medical attention."

The dismissal in his tone made my wolf snarl weakly inside me. "I'm your mate," I whispered. "This is your pup too. How can you just leave?"

For a moment, something flickered across his face—guilt, maybe, or regret. But it vanished so quickly I might have imagined it. "There was never really a pup, was there?" he said quietly. "Just another