The Unwanted Mate: Her Secret White Wolf Identity

My Alpha husband stood in the hospital room, his eyes cold as ice. He wasn't there to comfort our daughter; he was there to harvest her.

"Take her essence," he commanded the doctors without a shred of hesitation. "Timothy needs the transfusion. He is the future Alpha. Your daughter is just a useless runt."

I screamed, clutching the hem of his suit, begging him to stop. I tried to tell him that our little Lily wasn't weak—she was a late bloomer because she carried the rare, powerful blood of the White Wolf.

But Jaimen didn't care. He used the Alpha Voice to paralyze me.

"I command you to silence yourself, Omega."

I was forced to stand frozen, a prisoner in my own body, as they drained my three-year-old daughter dry. She died screaming in agony, sacrificed to save Timothy, the sickly son he had with his mistress, Ivanna.

With Lily's body still warm on the bed, Jaimen looked at me with pure disgust and severed our mate bond.

"I reject you. Get this trash out of my territory."

I was dragged out to the borderlands and beaten to death in the mud, clutching a cheap locket, while he celebrated saving his "heir."

He didn't know the truth.

He didn't know that he had just murdered a prodigy to save a lie.

Three years later, he finally ran a DNA test on his beloved Timothy.

The results showed zero match to the Alpha line, but a perfect match to a filthy Rogue.

That night, the Alpha went mad.

And I watched from the afterlife as he slaughtered everyone involved, begging a ghost for forgiveness that would never come.

Chapter 1

Christeen POV:

The smell of antiseptic was usually sharp, clean. Tonight, in the Blood Moon Pack hospital, it smelled like *a grave.*

My knees hit the cold linoleum floor. The impact bruised, but I couldn't feel it. All I could feel was the terrifyingly slow rhythm of the heart monitor next to me.

"Please, Jaimen," I sobbed, my hands reaching out to grasp the hem of his expensive suit jacket. "She is too small. She hasn't even shifted yet. You can't take her essence."

Jaimen Cline, the Alpha of our pack and the man the Moon Goddess had cruelly designed for me, looked down. His eyes, usually a warm hazel, were currently frozen shards of ice. He didn't look at me. He looked at the other bed.

On that bed lay Timothy, the three-year-old boy everyone believed was his son. The boy was pale, gasping for air, his body fighting the genetic failure of his wolf spirit.

"Timothy needs the transfusion, Christeen," Jaimen said, his voice devoid of emotion. "He is the future Alpha. He is strong. Your daughter... she is a runt. She has no wolf."

"She does!" I screamed, scrambling to my feet to block the doctors from Lily's bed. My little girl was curled in a ball, her tiny thumb in her mouth, her skin translucent. She had