Blaming the Alpha for Our Daughter’s Death

Arya’s POV

After what felt like an eternity of silence, the familiar but now distant voice of Godrick echoed through our mind link.

‘Arya, Luna is holding a congratulatory party for Charlotte. Arrive early tomorrow,’ he coldly instructed.

My heart clenched, the bitterness rising like bile in my throat. ‘What’s the point of that party when the one we’re celebrating is no longer with us?’ I thought, my voice void of any emotion.

‘You can take this chance to tell Luna everything,’ Alina, my wolf, suggested, her anger barely restrained.

Churning with anger, I hugged my daughter’s urn tightly and said through gritted teeth, “Okay.”

Godrick and I met one hot summer. I’d collapsed from overfatigue and heatstroke on the road, and he, then an aspiring healer, had found me. He’d saved my life that day, and that was when we discovered that we were mates.

We seemed perfect for each other back then—our interests aligned, our conversations endless. Two years later, we decided to settle down, and Godrick, now a fully-fledged head healer, became engrossed in his work. I took on the role of managing our household, ensuring that he never had to worry about anything but his patients.

One day, I stumbled upon an old photograph in his wallet—an intimate snapshot of him and another woman.

“Godrick, who’s this girl?” I asked, my heart pounding.

He hesitated, his expression conflicted before he finally admitted, “My first love.”

He watched me, waiting for a reaction.

But I smiled, swallowing the unease that threatened to surface. “Oh, is that so? Don’t worry, I’m not upset. Everyone has someone special from their past.”

He seemed relieved, even touched by my response. And when we had our daughter, Charlotte, he even tore up the photo in front of me, promising me that I was the only one who mattered. For a time, we were happy, our little family thriving—until Deserie’s rich mate died three years ago.

That was when everything changed.

Godrick began spending more and more time with Deserie, under the guise of helping her through her grief. He supported her in every way, giving her time that once belonged to us. “Time is life,” he often said, but it was Deserie who now consumed his life.

He lied about business trips and emergency surgeries, all excuses to be with her. Late-night calls, supposedly urgent, were nothing more than her nightmares, pulling him away from our bed and into hers.

Even on Charlotte’s birthday, when we waited for him to take us to the park, he never showed up. When I connected to him through a mind link, he said he was at the infirmary for an emergency and told us to go without him.

But days later, when I checked his phone, I found the truth. He had been with Deserie.

Deserie: [Look, Godrick, I accidentally cut my finger while reminiscing about our time together.]

Her message, complete with a photo of a minor cut, was nothing but a ploy. By the time Godrick arrived, her wound would’ve already healed. But what stung the most was that he still left us on our daughter’s birthday for her.

That was the final straw.

The day of the congratulatory party arrived. I clutched Charlotte’s urn close as I walked into the hall, where over twenty tables were set up. The pack was already gathered, their voices a dull roar in the background as they showered Godrick with praise.

“Godrick, you’re so lucky to have such a promising daughter. She did well in their final combat training. I’m sure she’ll be one of the great warriors soon,” a pack member lauded.

“Well, it’s all in the genes. Godrick was also excellent in his time. It’s no surprise his daughter would follow suit,” another chimed in.

“Will Charlotte pursue being a warrior, or does she want to be a hunter?” asked Caleb, Godrick’s cousin.

“It’s her choice. She’s welcome in both groups, so she can choose whichever she prefers,” Godrick responded, his voice brimming with pride.

Finally, after being basked in all of their praises, Godrick caught my scent and turned to me. But instead of welcoming me with warmth, he faced me with anger.

“Why are you only here now? Didn’t I tell you to come early?” he snapped. “Where’s our daughter?”

Before I could answer, the scent of the most unwelcome guests at this so-called party reached my nose—Deserie and her daughter.

“You’ve got some nerve, Godrick. You even brought them here to your daughter’s party,” I growled, the anger bubbling just beneath my skin.

“Arya, don’t be petty. They’re here to congratulate her. You wouldn’t embarrass me by causing a scene, would you?” Godrick snarled, his patience thin.

Just then, Luna Ethel, Godrick’s mother and the Luna of our pack, approached, her face lined with concern. “Arya, why didn’t my precious granddaughter come with you?”

All eyes turned to me, the room growing tense with curiosity.

“Arya, stop this nonsense. Bring Charlotte here now,” Godrick demanded, his tone sharp.

“I already did,” I replied, my voice flat, emotionless.

“What are you talking about? I don’t smell her scent anywhere,” he retorted, looking around.

Slowly, I reached into my bag and pulled out the urn, placing it on the table with deliberate care.

“Here,” I said.

The once jubilant room fell into a stunned hush, every eye locked on the urn. The shock and disbelief were palpable, the air thick with unspoken accusations.