After My Alpha Killed Our Baby, I Chose a Dying Man

The white gown felt like a shroud. It was silk, expensive, and suffocatingly tight across my chest—across Hadassah’s heart. Jaxon had chosen it. He said white represented purity, the way a Luna should look. But looking in the mirror, all I saw was a pale imitation of the sister he actually wanted.

“Stop fidgeting,” Jaxon snapped, adjusting his cufflinks in the reflection behind me. His eyes, usually so cold, held a flicker of irritation. “You look fine, Talia. Just… try to stand taller. Like she did.”

He didn’t need to say her name. It hung in the air between us, heavy and choking. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. It had been a week since the miscarriage, a week since I learned he had been poisoning me to protect a dead woman’s organ. My body still ached, empty and hollowed out, but Jaxon insisted on the Pack Charity Gala. Appearances, he said, were everything.

The ballroom of the pack house was glittering with crystal chandeliers and the fake smiles of high-ranking wolves. I moved through the crowd like a ghost, Jaxon’s hand gripping my elbow tight enough to bruise. He steered me from donor to donor, accepting their praise for his leadership while I stood silently by his side, the perfect, mute accessory.

“Excuse me,” I murmured, pulling away when the suffocation became too much. Jaxon barely nodded, already engrossed in conversation with a Beta from a neighboring pack.

I sought refuge in the ladies’ room, splashing cold water on my face. My reflection looked back at me—hollow eyes, trembling lips. I wasn't a Luna. I was a spare part.

The door clicked open. The scent of expensive perfume and ozone filled the small space. Capri Arnold.

She didn’t look like a mistress. She looked like a queen. Her red dress was cut low, daring, and her smile was sharp enough to cut glass. She moved toward the sinks, pulling a lipstick from her clutch.

“Rough night, Talia?” she asked, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “You look… tired.”

“I’m fine,” I said, reaching for a paper towel. My hands shook.

Capri laughed, a low, throaty sound. She leaned against the marble counter, blocking my exit. “You know, Jaxon hates it when you look weak. It reflects poorly on him. On the pack.”

“I don’t care what Jaxon thinks,” I whispered, though the lie tasted like ash.

“Oh, but you do. That’s the sad part.” She took a step closer, invading my personal space. Her eyes dropped to my stomach, and a cruel smirk played on her lips. “He told me about the… unfortunate event last week. The baby.”

The air left the room. “He told you?”

“Jaxon tells me everything, sweetie. Pillow talk.” She placed a hand on her own abdomen, a protective, possessive gesture. “It’s probably for the best. Your body isn’t built for carrying an Alpha’s heir. It’s too… fragile. Too broken.”

She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “But don’t worry. The pack won’t be without an heir for long. While you hold the dead heart, I hold the living future.”

I stared at her hand on her stomach. Pregnant. The room spun. He had poisoned me to stop a pregnancy, yet he had knotted with her? He had given her what he stole from me?

“You’re lying,” I choked out.

“Am I?” She smiled, then reached for her glass of red wine sitting on the counter. “Oops.”

With a flick of her wrist, the dark liquid splashed across my chest. The cold wetness soaked instantly into the white silk, spreading like a fresh, bloody wound over Hadassah’s heart.

“Oh no,” Capri gasped, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Look at what you’ve done. So clumsy.”

She breezed past me, leaving me dripping in crimson stain.

When I walked back into the ballroom, the hush was immediate. hundreds of eyes turned to me. The stain was unmistakable. It looked like I had been shot in the chest.

Jaxon marched over, his face thunderous. He didn’t ask if I was okay. He didn’t smell the wine or the distress rolling off me in waves.

“What is wrong with you?” he hissed, gripping my arm so hard his claws pricked my skin. “Can you not go one evening without embarrassing me? Hadassah never would have been so careless. She had grace. You’re just… a mess.”

The whispers of the pack surrounded us. *Look at her. Pathetic. Not fit to be Luna.*

Something inside me snapped. It wasn’t a loud crack, but a quiet, final release. The tether that held me to him, to this life, severed.

“I’m sorry, Alpha,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “I’ll go.”

I didn’t wait for his dismissal. I turned and walked out of the ballroom, head high, the red stain burning against my skin. I didn't cry. I had no tears left.

Back at the penthouse, the silence was different. It wasn’t lonely; it was expectant.

I bypassed the master bedroom and went to the guest room closet. I pulled out a single suitcase. I didn’t pack the jewelry he gave me. I didn’t pack the clothes he bought to make me look like her. I packed my jeans, my sweaters, the worn copy of *Pride and Prejudice* my father used to read to me before the accident.

From the bottom of my underwear drawer, I pulled out the envelope. The logo of the Berlin Heart Research Center was crisp and professional. They wanted me for my mind, not my chest. They wanted Dr. Talia Young, not Luna Morgan.

I sat at the vanity and pulled off the diamond wedding ring. It felt heavy, like a shackle. I placed it on the velvet pillow next to the divorce papers I had printed at the library three days ago. Next to them, I laid the grainy sonogram of the baby I never got to meet. The only evidence that I had existed as a mother, even for a moment.

*I, Talia Young, reject you, Jaxon Morgan, as my mate.*

I whispered the words into the empty room. The pain hit immediately—a searing, burning agony in my chest as the bond began to tear. It felt like my soul was being ripped in half. I doubled over, gasping, sweat beading on my forehead. My wolf howled in mourning, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself to stand.

I grabbed my phone, disabled the GPS, and opened the pack link settings. With a trembling finger, I pressed ‘Disconnect.’

The mental silence was deafening. The background hum of the pack, of Jaxon’s presence in my mind, vanished instantly. I was alone. Truly alone.

I zipped up the suitcase. The pain was excruciating, but for the first time in three years, the heart beating in my chest felt like my own.