I Left My Alpha After He Gave The Heart of My Daughter Away

I never imagined I would go into early labor during the Annual Full Moon Ceremony.

The pain was unbearable, but what made it worse was the setting. I was at the center of the platform, surrounded by wolves, elders, and influencers pointing their phones at me like I was part of the entertainment.

No one stepped forward to help. They just watched, some of them even livestreaming it for their followers.

But when the baby finally let out her first cry, I felt a rush of relief. My hands trembled as I held her against my chest, tears stinging my eyes.

“It’s our daughter,” I said, looking over at Alpha Cyrus Vazquez as I cradled the newborn in my arms.

Cyrus stood several feet away on the Alpha’s platform, flanked by council elders and high-ranking warriors. His expression didn’t change. He looked at the baby in my arms with a blank stare, as if she were nothing more than a passing inconvenience.

“A girl cannot be an Alpha,” he said coldly, adjusting the gold clasp on his dark ceremonial jacket. “What I need is a boy who will grow into a man and become the next Alpha, not a weakling like this.”

My smile faltered. The warmth in my chest vanished.

“What did you say?” I asked, still catching my breath. My bloodied white silk dress clung to my body, sticky with sweat and pain, but it wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable as the silence that followed his words.

Cyrus didn’t answer. He turned his head to the side, his gaze moving past me without a hint of hesitation.

I followed his line of sight.

Someone was approaching.

Calista Doren.

The crowd reacted the moment they saw her. She was the woman everyone in the pack admired. She was gorgeous, mysterious, and recently made famous after going viral during one of Cyrus’s campaign appearances.

She used to be shy, even forgettable. But now she moved with bold confidence, her presence commanding attention like it was second nature.

She wore a tight black dress that shimmered under the lights. Her walk was deliberate, graceful. And in her arms, she carried something small, wrapped in black linen embroidered with silver thread.

Calista didn’t stop or hesitate. She headed straight for the Alpha’s platform as if it belonged to her. She didn’t spare me a glance. Not even the Elders drew her attention.

She looked only at Cyrus.

“I bring the Alpha’s blood,” she said. Her voice was calm, unshaken, as if she had rehearsed the line in front of a mirror a hundred times. “Born two nights ago.”

I stared at her, frozen, trying to process what she was saying.

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Some whispered to one another, already speculating, but I heard none of it. All I could hear was the ringing in my ears and the sound of my daughter crying in my arms.

Calista unwrapped the cloth.

Inside was a newborn, a male child who looked exactly like Cyrus. The infant was swaddled in wolfsbane-marked fabric, the kind reserved only for pureblood heirs born under the protection of the moon.

And then Cyrus stepped down from the platform.

He didn’t look at me. He didn’t ask if I was all right. He didn’t even glance at the baby I had just brought into this world.

He walked straight to Calista and gently placed his hand on the baby’s head.

“I acknowledge my heir,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion. There was no pride in his words, no shame either, just finality.

Something inside me cracked.

Because with that one sentence, he made it clear that my daughter wasn’t enough. Not in his eyes.

He recognized another woman’s child, born in secret, as his legacy.

I stood there, still holding my newborn, still bleeding, still the Luna in name. But it didn’t feel like a title anymore. It felt like a chain.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. My chest tightened. My wolf thrashed violently inside me, furious and betrayed. The child in my arms cried louder, her small fists flailing in the air as if she felt the rejection as deeply as I did.

But all I could do was hold her, dazed, empty, and cold.

I looked at Cyrus one last time, desperate for anything, something that will show even a hint of regret, doubt, even confusion. But his face remained hard, unmoved. There was no guilt in his eyes. Only certainty.

“Calista's son will take my name. He will be rasied as my heir and my only child,” he said, as if the thought had only just crossed his mind. “And you, as my Luna, have to ensure that he will grow healthy and strong. As for others, they will be sent out.”