After Losing His Heir, I Rejected the Alpha’s Mark

After returning to the Blue Moon Pack, I drafted a rejection letter and wrote to my father, explaining everything. Within a day, I received his reply, informing me he would return from Howling Forest in three days to personally take me home.

I sat for a long time, my hand resting on my abdomen, torn between decisions. Then Alexandria came in, her voice hesitant but firm. "Alpha Leonard spent the night at the Rogue’s Den again. Gemma Smith was with him, as usual."

That was the final push I needed. I called for the pack’s healer, Tripp Romero, and the midwife, Lucille Medina. Tripp tried to dissuade me, his voice low with concern. "Luna, if Alpha finds out about this, he’ll be furious."

I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "He won’t care."

He didn’t care about me, and he certainly wouldn’t care about our child.

As I lay on the bed, I closed my eyes, feeling the sharp pain in my abdomen. The physical agony brought back memories I had tried to bury. Leonard and I had been together for five years. How had we come to this?

It started a year ago when Gemma came to me, her scent heavy with distress, saying something had happened to Leonard’s mother. I thought it was a heart attack and rushed over with medicine, only to find her lifeless. On the table was a vial of the medicine I had brought. Tripp later confirmed it had been poisoned.

Leonard had grabbed me by the throat, his Alpha aura pressing down on me like a storm. "What did you do?" I tried to explain, but the pack members said I was the only one who had been in the room, and the poisoned medicine was mine. The evidence was overwhelming, and I had no way to defend myself.

From that moment, our bond shattered. The gentle Alpha I had known became distant and cold, even his scent filled with bitterness. We could never go back to what we were, and I knew it. Yet, I clung to the memories, unable to let go. I had always believed we could fix things, but this time, I was done.

When I opened my eyes again, Lucille was looking at me with pity. "Luna, the child… it’s gone."

I stared at my now-flat stomach, tears falling as I touched it. I forced myself out of bed, ignoring the pain, and began packing my things. I went to the storeroom where my dowry was kept, only to find half of it missing. The pack members stammered when I asked where it had gone. "Only Alpha has been here…"

So that was how he funded his nights at the Rogue’s Den with Gemma—using my dowry.

I locked the remaining dowry away, and that night, Leonard came home reeking of alcohol and another female’s scent. He stormed into the room, his Alpha tone reverberating through the walls. "Tiffany Ellis! Your dowry belongs to the pack now! Give me the key!"

His entitlement made me want to laugh. He had been in the room for half an hour and hadn’t even noticed my flat stomach, hadn’t realized our child was gone. All he cared about was money for Gemma.

I replied coldly, "My dowry isn’t for you to spend on Gemma."

His eyes darkened, his chest rising and falling with anger. Then, his tone softened as he took my hand. "Are you jealous, Luna? You know Gemma and I are just friends. She’s had a hard life, and I’m only helping her."

I turned away, catching a glimpse of a bite mark on his neck that his shirt didn’t cover. My heart turned to ice.

I pushed him away, refusing to fall for his act. "The dowry stays with me."

His expression hardened, and he slammed his fist on the table, sending everything crashing to the floor. "I don’t know why I ever chose you as my mate! You’re nothing compared to Gemma—not in looks, not in heart! You’re selfish and cold!"

He glared at me, his Alpha tone rising. "Tiffany Ellis, hand over the dowry, or I won’t step foot in this house again!"

I remained calm, repeating, "No."

The door slammed shut behind him, shaking the walls. I pulled out a small notebook from a drawer. It was something Leonard had written in the second day of our mate bond, detailing everything I liked, everything I avoided, even when my cycle was due. It was filled with his handwriting, a testament to the care he once had for me.

As I flipped through the pages, I could almost see the Leonard who had written this, sitting at the desk with a smile. But the wind blowing the door open reminded me that the past was gone.

Without hesitation, I threw the notebook into the fireplace, watching as the flames consumed it, turning it to ashes.