I Kept the Alpha’s Secret Heir

Nathan’s voice was sharp enough to cut glass. "How long have you known, Hannah?" he asked, his eyes blazing like twin embers.

I backed up a step, my palms raised defensively. “An hour, Nathan. I swear. That’s why I stopped you from going into the study room.”

Nathan’s jaw ticked, his fists clenched at his sides. “You shouldn’t have stopped me! I should’ve seen it with my own damn eyes. Let them know I’m not someone they can betray without consequences.”

“You would’ve made a scene!” I argued, my voice rising. “Your Dad is dying, Nathan. Do you really want his last memories to be you tearing the family apart?”

He flinched as if I’d slapped him, but the anger didn’t leave his face. “They already tore it apart, Hannah. Cecelia, of all people? And Dean? My own brother?”

I didn’t have an answer to that. Honestly, I didn’t know how to process it myself.

Nathan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You expect me to just stand here and do nothing?”

“For now? Yes,” I said, my voice softening. “At least until we figure out what to do. This isn’t the time to burn bridges. Not yet.”

His gaze lingered on me for a moment, his fury warring with something softer. Reluctantly, he nodded, but the tightness in his jaw told me he wasn’t convinced. Without another word, he stormed past me, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.

I exhaled, slumping against the wall. “What now?” I muttered to myself. The weight of everything threatened to crush me, but there was no time to fall apart. Not yet.

Later that evening, I sat in my father’s study, fiddling with the edge of my sleeve. His once-powerful presence was now a frail shadow, but his eyes were as piercing as ever.

“You want to sever the bond with Alpha Dean?” my father repeated, his voice weak but laced with curiosity.

"Yes, because Dean has betrayed me. He’s…” My voice cracked, but I forced myself to continue. “He’s been with Cecelia.”

The room fell silent, the weight of my words settling like a storm cloud. My father let out a weary sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they held none of the outrage I’d hoped for.

“Hannah,” he said slowly, “break up with Dean if that’s what you want. But don’t let their mistakes define your life. Let them have each other if that’s what they want.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Are you… Are you taking their side?”

“I’m taking no side,” he replied, his tone measured. “I’m asking you to choose peace over conflict. This family has had enough turmoil.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to let the tears spill. “Right,” I said stiffly, rising to my feet. “Thanks for the advice.”

As I left the study, I almost collided with Dean in the hallway. His towering presence made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral.

“There you are,” he said casually, as if nothing had happened. “Start preparing for Cecelia’s birthday. She’ll want everything perfect.”

I blinked, stunned by his audacity. He didn’t even mention my birthday from two weeks ago. No cake, no flowers, not even a word. Yet here he was, planning Cecelia’s celebration like it was the event of the century.

“Okay,” I muttered, not trusting myself to say more.

Dean gave a curt nod and walked away, his steps confident and unbothered. I watched him go, my chest tightening with a thousand unsaid words.

Once he was out of sight, I pulled the pregnancy test from my pocket. Two lines stared back at me, clear as day. My heart sank. I was carrying his child. And yet, I couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing.

I needed to leave this place. Leave him. Leave all of them.

That night, I tried to convince myself to sleep, but the door creaked open, and Cecelia sauntered in. My eyes widened in shock. She was wearing my dress.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped, sitting up.

Cecelia twirled in front of the mirror, a smug smile on her lips. “It looks good on me, doesn’t it? Thought I’d borrow it.”

“Borrow?” I hissed. “Without asking? That dress was Mom’s. She gave it to me.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “We’re sisters, Hannah. We share things.”

Something inside me snapped. “We don’t share everything, Cecelia,” I spat. “Take it off. Now.”

She crossed her arms, her expression defiant. “No. You’re being ridiculous.”

I shot out of bed, my anger boiling over. “Take it off, or I’ll take it off for you.”

When she didn’t move, I grabbed the hem of the dress, yanking it hard. The fabric tore with a loud rip, and Cecelia gasped in outrage.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked, stumbling back.

Before I could answer, the door burst open, and Dean strode in. His eyes darted between us, landing on the torn dress in my hands.

Cecelia’s expression shifted instantly. Her lips quivered, and she clutched the torn fabric to her chest. “Dean,” she whimpered, “Hannah attacked me. I was just trying to borrow a dress, and she…”

My heart pounded as I stared at her, my fury giving way to disbelief. “You’re lying!” I shouted, but Dean’s face was already darkening.

“Are you out of your mind, Hannah?!" He scoffed.