After My Mate Forced a Miscarriage, I Married His Uncle

The candles flickered across our dining table, casting a warm glow over the carefully prepared meal. I'd spent hours cooking Hayden's favorite dishes—roasted duck with cherry reduction, garlic mashed potatoes, and the chocolate soufflé waiting in the oven. Three years of marriage deserved something special.

"Surprise!" I called as I heard the front door open. "Happy anniversary, Hayden."

He barely glanced at the table, his eyes fixed on his phone. "You didn't need to go to all this trouble, Lyra."

"It's our anniversary," I said, touching the silver locket around my neck—the one my mother had given me before I married into the Pierce family. "I thought we could celebrate."

"We'll eat later," he replied, loosening his tie. "I need a shower."

I watched him disappear into our bedroom, his shoulders tense. Something was wrong. I could feel it in the air between us, thick and suffocating.

The sound of the shower running gave me pause. His phone lay on the counter, screen lit up with a notification. I shouldn't look. But something pulled me toward it.

"Blair Woods: Check this out. Just us in the guest room last night."

My fingers trembled as I opened the message. The video loaded, and I couldn't breathe. There, in our guest bedroom—the one we'd painted together when we first moved in—was my husband. With another woman. An Instagram model with perfect curves and a predatory smile.

"Oh God," I whispered, dropping the phone as if it burned.

The shower stopped. I quickly wiped my tears and tried to compose myself.

"What's wrong?" Hayden asked, emerging in a robe, his hair still damp.

"You know exactly what's wrong," I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite the earthquake happening inside me. "Who is Blair Woods?"

His expression hardened. "Just a friend."

"A friend who sends you sex tapes from our guest room?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair—that familiar gesture that once made my heart flutter, now just another lie. "You're being dramatic. It's nothing."

"Nothing?" My voice cracked. "How long?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes, it matters!" I cried, tears finally breaking free. "Today of all days—our anniversary—you're telling me you've been cheating?"

He looked at me with disgust. "This is why I can't stand being around you sometimes. This... Beta weakness."

The words cut deeper than any knife. I was a Beta—not an Alpha like him—and he never let me forget it.

"Here," he said, pouring a glass of deep red wine from an unmarked bottle. "This will calm your nerves."

I hesitated, but he was already pushing it into my hand.

"Drink it," he insisted. "We can talk when you're not being hysterical."

Something in his eyes made me obey.

---

An hour later, agony tore through my abdomen. I doubled over, gasping as hot pain radiated through my body.

"Lyra?" Hayden's voice sounded distant. "What's wrong?"

"I need... hospital," I managed, clutching my stomach as warm wetness spread between my legs.

The emergency room lights were too bright, the doctors too efficient. Dr. Sarah Chen, our pack healer, examined me with gentle hands and a grim expression.

"I'm sorry, Lyra," she said softly. "You're having a miscarriage."

The world stopped. "Miscarriage? But I didn't even know..."

"About six weeks along," she confirmed, her eyes narrowing as she checked my vitals. "There's something else. I'm finding traces of Wolfsbane and... abortifacients in your system."

"What?"

"Someone drugged you," she said, her voice hardening. "This wasn't natural."

My husband. My mate. The father of my unborn child.

I lay numb in the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. The child I never knew existed was gone. And with it, every illusion I had about my marriage.

Voices drifted from the hallway outside my room.

"Is she still going on about the baby?" A woman's voice—young, careless.

"It's handled," Hayden replied. "The wine worked. She'll never know it was deliberate."

"Well, good. Because we're leaving for LA tonight. I've already packed my bags."

Their laughter faded as they moved away from my door.

---

Three days later, I returned to the penthouse to collect my belongings. The apartment felt like a mausoleum—every corner haunted by memories of what I thought was love.

I was packing my mother's locket when the door burst open.

"Mrs. Pierce?" A man in a cheap suit stepped inside, flanked by two larger men with cold eyes. "We need to talk about your husband's debt."

"I don't know anything about—"

"Thirty million dollars," he interrupted. "And Hayden Pierce is nowhere to be found."

My blood ran cold. "What does this have to do with me?"

He smiled, revealing yellow teeth. "According to the contract, if he defaults, we take...you."

"Me?"

"Fertile she-wolves are valuable commodities," he said, reaching for my arm. "The underground syndicate will pay handsomely for you."

I backed away, my mind racing. The service elevator. It was my only chance.

"I need to use the bathroom," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Don't try anything stupid," he warned.

The moment I was alone, I grabbed my mother's locket and ran. The service corridor was narrow and dimly lit. Footsteps pounded behind me as I burst through the exit into the rainy New York night.

I was free—but hunted. With no money, no pack protection, and nowhere to go.