After My Alpha Sacrificed Our Daughter's Heart I Vowed Revenge

Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Dark circles shadowed my eyes, evidence of another sleepless night spent replaying Marcus's moonlit phone call in my mind. Six months since Emma's death, and now this betrayal—it was almost too much to bear.

Aria stirred within me, her presence a low, simmering rage. *We need proof, Natalie. More than just words on a screen and a school note.*

"I know," I whispered, splashing cold water on my face. "And I know where to start."

The pack house was quiet as I made my way to the east wing where Elara Thorne, our Pack Healer for over thirty years, maintained her herbarium. The scent of dried herbs and tinctures greeted me as I pushed open the heavy wooden door.

"Luna Natalie," Elara looked up from her workbench, surprise flickering across her weathered face. "I wasn't expecting you today."

"I need to see Emma's medical records," I said without preamble, closing the door behind me.

Elara's hands stilled over the mortar and pestle she'd been using. "May I ask why?"

"I've been... having dreams about her final moments," I lied smoothly. "I thought reviewing what happened might help me find closure."

The older woman's eyes softened with sympathy, but I caught a flicker of something else—nervousness, perhaps?

"Of course," she said, wiping her hands on her apron. "Though I'm not sure how much comfort they'll provide."

She led me to a filing cabinet and pulled out a thin folder. As I flipped through it, I noticed several pages were missing.

"Where are her blood test results from that day?" I asked, keeping my voice casual.

Elara's scent changed subtly—anxiety spiking through the herbal aromas surrounding us. "That's... strange. They should be there."

"Elara." I closed the folder and met her gaze directly. "What aren't you telling me?"

The healer's shoulders slumped. She glanced toward the door before lowering her voice. "Emma's blood samples went missing the day before she died. I was going to report it to Alpha Marcus, but then... everything happened so quickly."

My heart pounded against my ribs. "And you never mentioned this?"

"Alpha Marcus said it wasn't important after she was gone." Elara's eyes dropped to the floor. "He said dwelling on such details would only cause you more pain."

Aria growled within me. *He knew. He made sure there would be no evidence.*

I thanked Elara and left, my mind racing. By nightfall, I had made my decision.

---

The boundary ridge between Silvermoon territory and the neutral lands was deserted at midnight. I'd slipped away while Marcus was in his study, leaving a note saying I needed to visit Emma's favorite spot in the forest to feel close to her—a lie he would believe without question.

The half-moon cast silver light across the rocky outcrop as I waited, a small bag clutched in my hand. When a shadow detached itself from the darkness, I straightened my spine, refusing to show fear.

"You're the Luna of Silvermoon," the man said, his voice rough with disuse. "Dangerous place for you to be alone."

"Are you Kaelen?" I asked, ignoring his observation.

He stepped into the moonlight, revealing a lean face marked with a scar that ran from temple to jaw. His eyes glowed amber—a werewolf, but with no pack scent.

"Depends who's asking and what they're paying," he replied.

I opened the bag, revealing several silver trinkets—pack heirlooms I'd taken from my personal collection. "These, plus safe passage through our territory whenever you need it."

Kaelen whistled low. "Must be important."

"I need information on Alpha Marcus Sterling's activities outside pack boundaries. Specifically, his connection to Rachel Morrison of the Crescent Moon Pack."

The rogue's eyebrows rose slightly. "Dangerous game, Luna."

"Will you do it?"

He considered the silver, then me. "Two weeks. I'll find what you need."

---

Eleven days later, Kaelen contacted me through a burner phone he'd left in our arranged drop spot. We met again at the boundary ridge, where he handed me a manila envelope.

"Your Alpha has been busy," he said simply.

With trembling fingers, I opened the envelope. Inside were dozens of photographs—Marcus entering a secluded cabin nestled in Crescent Moon territory. Marcus embracing Rachel on the porch. And most damning of all, Marcus kneeling to hug a young boy with his same dark hair and strong jawline.

"The boy's name is Leo Morrison," Kaelen said quietly. "Six years old. Your Alpha visits twice a week, regular as clockwork."

I stared at the images, feeling as though I might shatter into a thousand pieces. Six years old. Our daughter had been five when she died.

"There's more," Kaelen added, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "The boy was in Moon Valley Medical Center six months ago. Heart transplant."

The photographs slipped from my numb fingers, scattering across the rocky ground as the terrible truth began to take shape in my mind.

Aria's voice was ice in my veins: *Emma died of an allergic reaction the same day this boy received a new heart.*