Alpha Rejected Me While Pregnant

The guard's voice crackled through the intercom at dawn. "Luna, there's someone at the gate. Says her name is Selene Mitchell."

I was in the nursery, watching Seven sleep in his bassinet. His tiny chest rose and fell in perfect rhythm, one fist curled near his mouth. Three weeks old and already he had Caleb's stubborn chin.

Selene.

The name hit like a fist to the gut. My wolf stirred, no longer weak but wary, her hackles rising.

"I'll be right there," I said.

Marcus was waiting in the hall, his expression grim. "You don't have to see her."

"Yes, I do."

The walk to the gate felt longer than it should have. My body had healed—Elena's care and Caleb's soul share had seen to that—but some wounds ran deeper than flesh. Every step toward Selene was a step back toward the Moon Festival, toward the moment my world shattered.

She stood outside the iron gates, and I barely recognized her.

The woman who'd smirked at me from the dais was gone. This Selene was hollow-eyed and gaunt, her designer dress torn at the hem, a purple bruise blooming across her left cheekbone. Her hands shook as she gripped the bars.

"Lyra." Her voice cracked. "Please. I need to talk to you."

I stopped ten feet back, Marcus flanking me. The morning sun was cold and bright, turning her face into a map of shadows.

"You have sixty seconds," I said.

She flinched. "The pack is bankrupt. Cyrus—he's been stealing from the Council tributes for years. Paying off rogues to harass rival territories. I found the records." She pulled a flash drive from her pocket with trembling fingers. "It's all here. Bank transfers. Contracts. Everything."

My heart kicked against my ribs. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"Because he's insane." The words tumbled out in a rush. "He drinks all day. Screams at shadows. Last night he—" She touched the bruise on her face. "He said I wasn't you. That I'd never be you. Then he hit me."

I should have felt satisfaction. Vindication. Instead, I just felt tired.

"The pack hates me," Selene continued, her voice breaking. "They spit when I walk by. The Elders blame me for everything falling apart. I have nowhere to go. Please, Lyra. I know I don't deserve it, but—"

"You're right," I said quietly. "You don't."

I took the flash drive from her shaking hand. Our fingers didn't touch.

"Marcus will show you to the servant's quarters," I continued. "You'll work for your keep. Laundry, kitchen duty, whatever Elena needs. You don't speak to me unless spoken to. You don't go near my son. And if you cause any trouble—any at all—you're out. Understood?"

Selene's face crumpled. "Thank you. Thank you, I—"

"Save it." I turned away before I could see her cry.

Back in Caleb's office, I plugged in the drive.

The files were damning. Years of embezzlement, laid out in spreadsheets and scanned contracts. Cyrus had been siphoning Council funds since before he married me, using shell companies and rogue intermediaries. The amounts made my stomach turn.

"This is treason," Caleb said, reading over my shoulder. "The Council will have his head."

"Good." The word came out harder than I intended.

I drafted the petition that afternoon. Formal. Precise. Every accusation backed by documentation. By sunset, it was done.

Caleb read it twice, then looked at me with those pale eyes that saw too much.

"The Council will summon you to testify. Neutral Grounds. It won't be easy."

"I know."

"I'm coming with you."

It wasn't a question. I should have argued—should have told him I could handle it alone. But the truth was, I didn't want to.

"Okay," I said.

That night, I stood over Seven's bassinet, watching him dream. His little face scrunched up, then relaxed, and my chest ached with a love so fierce it scared me.

If something happened to me at the tribunal—if Cyrus's parents tried something, if the Council ruled against me—

"Can't sleep?"

Caleb's voice was soft. He stood in the doorway, backlit by the hall light, his expression unreadable.

"I need to ask you something," I said.

He moved closer, his presence filling the small room.

"If anything happens to me," I continued, "I want you to be Seven's guardian. Legally. His God-Alpha."

Caleb went very still. "Lyra—"

"Please." I looked up at him. "You saved his life. You saved mine. I trust you with him more than anyone."

The silence stretched. Then Caleb reached out and touched Seven's tiny hand with one scarred finger. Seven's fist closed around it instinctively.

"Nothing's going to happen to you," Caleb said, his voice rough. "But yes. I'll protect him. Always."

The Council's response came two days later. The tribunal was set.

Cyrus would answer for his crimes.

And I would be the one to destroy him.