After My Alpha Chose His Pregnant Mistress

Elara Voss found me in the hallway outside the recovery ward. The head healer looked like she hadn't slept. Her hands twisted together as she approached.

"Natalie," she said quietly. "I need to speak with you. Privately."

I followed her into an empty consultation room. She closed the door and stood there for a long moment, not meeting my eyes.

"Your father," she finally said. "Alpha Damian has ordered him transferred to the common ward."

I went still.

"He's in the best suite," I said. "He needs the monitors. The equipment."

"I know." Elara's voice shook. "The Alpha says the suite is needed for Daisy Sanders. For her wolf-blood treatment."

The air left my lungs.

My father was a retired pack elder. He'd served for thirty years. And Damian was moving him—critically ill, barely stable—to make room for her.

"When?" I asked.

Elara looked at me then. Her eyes were red.

"Tonight."

I nodded slowly. My hands were perfectly steady.

"I need you to document the order," I said. "In writing. With your signature."

She hesitated. Then pulled out a notepad and wrote it down. Her hand shook as she signed her name at the bottom.

I folded the paper carefully and tucked it into my bag.

"Thank you," I said.

She started to say something else. I walked out before she could.

***

That night, I went to the pack house to retrieve some of my things. Personal items I'd left in storage. I didn't want to be there long.

The basement was cold and dimly lit. Rows of shelving units lined the walls, packed with forgotten belongings. I found the box I was looking for and pulled it down.

Then I heard footsteps behind me.

I turned.

Four males stepped out from between the shelves. Rogues. I could tell by their scent—unwashed, feral, pack-less. Their eyes gleamed in the low light.

"Well, well," one of them said. "The broken Luna."

I set the box down slowly.

"This is pack territory," I said. "You're trespassing."

The largest one laughed. "We were invited. Paid, actually. Good money to deliver a message."

They spread out, circling me.

I reached for my wolf.

Nothing.

She was still gone. Still silent. I had no shift. No enhanced strength. Just my human body and whatever fight I could scrape together.

The first one lunged.

I dodged and grabbed a metal shelf bracket, swinging it hard. It connected with his jaw. He stumbled back, cursing.

Another came from the side. I kicked, aiming for his knee. Heard something crack. He went down.

But there were four of them.

Hands grabbed my hair, yanking me backward. I twisted, clawing at his face. He shoved me into the shelving unit. Metal bit into my spine.

"No wolf to save you," one of them sneered. "What kind of Luna can't even shift?"

I drove my elbow into his ribs. Grabbed a storage bin and swung it. Fought like something wild and desperate.

But I was losing.

One of them caught my wrist, twisting until I heard it crack. Pain exploded up my arm. I gasped.

Then the basement door slammed open.

Kevin.

My brother's wolf was out—gray and massive, teeth bared. He didn't hesitate. He launched himself at the nearest rogue, tearing into him with Delta-trained precision.

"Run!" he snarled at me.

I couldn't move. Couldn't leave him.

Kevin fought like he'd been born for it. Fast. Brutal. But they were professionals. Mercenaries. And he was alone.

They dragged him toward the stairwell. I screamed his name.

They threw him out the third-story window.

The sound of his body hitting the stone courtyard below echoed through the pack house.

The mind-link flared. Instant. Agonizing. Kevin's life snuffed out like a candle.

Then, seconds later, another flare. Fainter. From the common ward.

My father's heart, giving out as the news reached him.

I stood there in the basement. Blood on my hands. My wrist broken. My brother dead. My father dead. My pup gone.

The rogues had already fled.

I didn't cry.

Something else happened instead.

Heat exploded through my chest. Not pain. Power. My wolf—silent since the stillbirth—roared back to consciousness with a violence that drove me to my knees.

My bones shifted. Fur erupted across my skin. The transformation tore through me faster than it ever had before.

When I stood again, I wasn't human.

Pure black fur covered my body. I caught my reflection in a broken mirror leaning against the wall. Molten gold eyes stared back.

My wolf had returned.

And she was done grieving.

I shifted back slowly, deliberately. My wrist was already healing. I walked upstairs, past pack members who stared and backed away. Something in my scent had changed. Something that made even the Deltas lower their eyes.

I found Kevin's body in the courtyard. Knelt beside him. Touched his face once.

Then I stood and walked away.

I didn't go to my father's body. Didn't collapse. Didn't scream.

I went to my room. Pulled out the folder I'd been building. Added Elara's signed statement to the photos, the financial records, the documented lies.

Evidence.

I sat down at my desk and began making calls.

The first was to the Lycan Council's enforcement division.

My voice was steady. Clear. Cold.

"I need to report multiple violations of pack law," I said. "And two murders."

The grief was still there. Massive. Crushing.

But I'd stopped letting it control me.

Now it was fuel.