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After My Mate Let Our Pup Die Novel Cover

After My Mate Let Our Pup Die

Seven years of waiting, of enduring Kendrick's endless excuses, and finally the Moon Goddess answers: a pup stirs within me, my wolf singing with joy. Yet as we near the sacred milestone of our bond on that familiar, shadowed mountain road, a sinister darkness closes in. I must unravel the mystery of his hesitation before it's too late—or lose everything.
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Chapter 5

Jason fell into step beside me on the coastal trail without asking permission. I didn't slow down. Buster ran ahead, his golden coat bright against the gray morning.

"You've been running this route every day for three weeks," Jason said. His voice was easy. Conversational. "Same pace. Same distance."

"It works."

"It does." He was quiet for a moment, matching my stride. "Mara says you flagged the Timberline agreement before their Alpha even finished reading it."

I glanced at him. "That's what you're paying me for."

"True." He smiled slightly. "But most wolves would've let at least one clause slip. You caught all six."

I didn't answer. We ran in silence for another quarter mile, the ocean crashing against the rocks below. Buster circled back to check on us, then took off again.

"The Northridge Pack wants a meeting," Jason said. "They're proposing a mutual defense pact. I think it's premature. You?"

I considered it. "What's their territory like?"

"Mountainous. Isolated. They've had three rogue incursions in the last year."

"So they want backup without offering much in return."

"That's my read."

I shook my head. "Tell them no. Or tell them they need to bring something to the table besides need."

Jason laughed. Actually laughed. "Mara said you'd say that."

"Then why ask?"

"Because I wanted to hear you argue it." He slowed as we reached the turnaround point. "You don't soften things. I appreciate that."

I stopped and looked at him. Really looked. He met my eyes without flinching, without expectation. Just steady attention.

"Most Alphas don't like being disagreed with," I said.

"Most Alphas are insecure." He shrugged. "I hired you because you're smarter than I am about institutional systems. Why would I want you to pretend otherwise?"

Something in my chest shifted. Not attraction exactly. Recognition.

I filed it away and started running again.

---

The message came through Jason's network two days later.

I was in my office reviewing a resource-sharing proposal when Mara knocked once and walked in. She set her tablet on my desk without preamble.

"Ironveil's hosting a Mate Ceremony," she said. "Next Saturday. Full pack attendance. Formal dress."

I looked at the screen. The announcement was written in the bureaucratic language of official pack business, but the subtext was clear. Kendrick was reasserting his authority. Rewriting the narrative. Pretending the rejection had never gutted him.

"He didn't name a Luna," I said quietly.

Mara's expression was carefully neutral. "No. He didn't."

I scrolled through the details. The ceremony would be held in the main hall. The pack's council would attend. There would be a formal marking ritual.

My wolf stirred inside me, cold and focused.

"Holly will be there," I said. It wasn't a question.

Mara nodded. "Our contact says she's been preparing for weeks."

I handed the tablet back. "Thank you for the information."

Mara didn't move. "Gianna—"

"I'm fine."

"I didn't ask if you were fine." She tilted her head slightly. "I asked if you wanted to do something about it."

I met her eyes. "What did you have in mind?"

Her smile was sharp. "The Ironveil pack house runs on a centralized display system. Every screen in the building connects to a single server. If someone had remote access to that server, they could broadcast whatever they wanted. Hypothetically."

"Hypothetically," I repeated.

"It would take about four hours to build the access infrastructure. Less if I had help." She paused. "Jason authorized the resources. If you want them."

I looked at her for a long moment. Then I nodded once.

"I want them."

---

I spent the next three days preparing.

The security footage from the mountain road was already in my files. I pulled it up and watched it again, frame by frame. The black SUV. The deliberate impacts. The moment my car broke through the guardrail.

I added the hospital intake forms. The surgical consent I'd signed alone. The funding suspension notice Kendrick had sent for Grandma Cooper's care.

Then I pulled the surveillance photos Jason's investigator had provided. Holly and Kendrick at the coffee shop. Holly wearing my scarf. The receipt from the Manhattan clinic.

I arranged everything in a sequence. Methodical. Precise. The kind of presentation that left no room for interpretation.

Mara worked beside me in silence, building the remote access protocols. She didn't ask questions. Didn't offer commentary. Just built the infrastructure and tested it twice.

On Friday night, she looked up from her laptop. "We're ready. The access is clean. They won't trace it back here."

"Good."

"Gianna." She closed the laptop. "This is going to destroy him. You know that, right?"

I met her eyes. "Yes."

"And you're sure?"

I thought about the medical wing. Kendrick charging past my gurney. His Alpha aura flaring over Holly while I bled alone. The bond snapping. The silence that followed.

"I'm sure," I said.

Mara nodded once. "Then let's give them a show."

---

Saturday morning I took Buster running.

The ocean was rough, the waves crashing higher than usual. The wind pulled at my hair and stung my face. Buster ran beside me, steady and sure.

When we got back to the cottage, I showered and dressed. Not formal. Just clean. Comfortable.

I made coffee and sat at the kitchen table with my laptop.

The Ironveil Mate Ceremony would start at seven. Mara had synced our access to go live at seven-fifteen, right after the opening rituals.

I opened the broadcast file and reviewed it one last time.

Then I closed the laptop and waited.

My phone sat on the table beside me. Silent. I'd blocked Kendrick's number weeks ago, but I knew he'd tried to reach me. Derek had mentioned it in one of his carefully worded emails about pack business.

I felt nothing when I thought about Kendrick now.

Just the cold, clear certainty that he'd made his choice seven years ago when he let me wait. And again in the medical wing when he walked past me.

And tonight, in front of his entire pack, he'd learn what that choice cost.

Buster nudged my hand with his nose. I scratched behind his ears.

"Good boy," I said quietly.

Outside the window, the sun was setting over the ocean. The sky burned orange and red, beautiful and indifferent.

I picked up my coffee and took a sip.

Then I opened my laptop and waited for seven-fifteen.

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