After My Alpha Cheated with the Omega, I Found the Lycan Prince

Rain battered against the windows of our bedroom as I paced anxiously, one hand resting on my swollen belly. The baby had been kicking all afternoon, little flutters that made my heart swell with love and anticipation. I couldn't wait to share this with Quentin.

"Luna, do you need anything before I go?" Our Beta asked from the doorway, concern etched on her face.

"No, thank you. I'm just waiting for my mate." I smiled, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. Quentin had been distant lately, often returning late from his duties. But tonight would be different. Tonight, we would celebrate our little miracle.

The clock struck nine when I finally heard his key in the lock. I rushed downstairs, my heart light despite my growing unease.

"Quentin! You're home!" I called out, hurrying toward him.

He looked up, irritation flashing across his face before he smoothed it away. "Sloane. You should be resting."

"I wanted to tell you—the baby's been kicking! Come feel." I reached for his hand, but he stepped back, shrugging off his jacket.

"Did you just get in from patrol?" I asked, noticing his damp clothes.

"Yes. It's been a long day." He sighed, not meeting my eyes.

Something wasn't right. I moved closer, needing his embrace, needing reassurance. As I wrapped my arms around him, I buried my face in his chest and inhaled deeply.

The scent hit me like a physical blow.

Instead of his familiar forest pine and earthy tones, my nose filled with cloying vanilla perfume and the unmistakable musk of sex. My blood turned to ice as I recognized the signature scent.

Mya.

The Omega's scent clung to him like a second skin.

"You smell like her." My voice came out barely above a whisper.

Quentin's body tensed. "What are you talking about?"

"Mya. You reek of her perfume." I pulled back, searching his face. "What have you been doing?"

His expression hardened. "Nothing that concerns you. You're being hormonal and paranoid."

"Hormonal?" I stepped back, one hand protectively covering my stomach. "Quentin, I can smell her on you. The same way I could smell you on me after we—"

"Enough!" He cut me off, pushing past me toward the stairs. "I need a shower."

I followed him, desperation clawing at my throat. "Quentin, please. Talk to me."

He turned, his eyes cold. "There's nothing to talk about. You're imagining things."

As he climbed the stairs, his phone buzzed. I watched as he pulled it from his pocket, a small smile playing at his lips as he read the message. My stomach twisted when I caught a glimpse of the name on the screen.

Mya.

---

Two days later, the pack house glittered with decorations for the Winter Solstice formal. I stood beside Quentin, playing the perfect Luna despite the hollow ache in my chest. My dress concealed my slightly rounded belly—a secret I'd hoped to share with joy, not shame.

Across the room, Mya watched us with calculating eyes. When our gazes met, she deliberately ran her hand up Quentin's arm.

"Alpha, may I have this dance?" she purred, ignoring me completely.

Before Quentin could respond, I stepped forward. "That's quite enough, Mya. You will show respect for your Luna."

My voice carried the weight of my position, making several nearby wolves flinch. Mya's eyes narrowed.

"I don't see a Luna," she sneered. "Just a hormonal bitch playing dress-up."

The room fell silent. Quentin should have defended me instantly, but he hesitated.

"How dare you," I said, my Luna voice stronger now. "You forget your place."

What happened next seemed to unfold in slow motion. Mya's face contorted with rage, then suddenly transformed into a mask of fear. She stumbled backward, arms windmilling dramatically before she fell down the three steps leading to the dance floor.

"No!" she screamed, clutching her ankle. "She pushed me! The Luna pushed me!"

Quentin's head snapped toward me, eyes blazing with fury I'd never seen directed at me before.

"Sloane," he growled, "what have you done?"

"Quentin, I didn't—"

"SILENCE!" His Alpha Command crashed over me like a physical wave.

The room spun as his power pressed down on me. My knees buckled.

"SUBMIT!" he roared, his Alpha tone reaching its full potential.

Pain exploded through my body as my wolf recoiled violently from the assault. Something tore inside me, and a scream ripped from my throat as I collapsed to the floor.

Warmth spread between my legs as blood soaked through my dress.

"No," I whispered, reaching toward Quentin as darkness claimed me. "Our baby..."

---

I woke to sterile white walls and the antiseptic smell of the pack hospital. Empty. Hollow. Broken.

Quentin stood at the foot of my bed, his face unreadable.

"The heir is lost," he said flatly. "Your weakness cost us everything."

I couldn't speak through the tears.

"It's better this way," he continued. "I've made my decision. You're no longer my Luna."

He approached, his voice taking on the formal cadence of ritual.

"I, Quentin Arnold, Alpha of the Silverclaw Pack, reject you, Sloane Wright, as my mate."

The words sliced through me like knives. I felt our bond stretching, tearing.

"Accept your rejection," he commanded.

Blood filled my mouth as I choked out the words that would sever us forever.

"I, Sloane Wright, accept your rejection."

The bond snapped with physical force. I doubled over, vomiting blood onto the pristine sheets.

Hours later, as moonlight spilled through the window, Hanna slipped into my room.

"Come on," she whispered, helping me to my feet. "We have to get you out of here before Mya realizes you're still breathing."

She pressed a passport and ticket into my hand. "Paris. New identity. New start."

As we slipped through the shadows toward freedom, I couldn't help wondering if the pieces of my shattered heart would ever come together again.