Marked by the Wrong Alpha

Genevieve's POV

His strike sent me reeling sideways.

My head jerked sharply, and before I could process what had happened, the room spun violently out of balance. I crashed against the marble floor with enough force to drive the air from my lungs. A broken sound escaped me—half gasp, half cry—more from shock than pain. For a moment, everything dissolved into darkness.

When my vision cleared, heat radiated across my cheek in a fierce, pulsing ache. I remained sprawled on the cold stone floor of the guest chamber, stunned and disoriented, my wolf restless beneath my skin.

Nikolai had hit me.

In all the years we had been bound—through pack disputes, territorial challenges, and bloody confrontations with rival Alphas—he had never once raised his hand against me. Not even at the height of his fury.

My thoughts scrambled uselessly, searching for some explanation. Had I provoked him? Said something unforgivable? Nothing justified this.

I blinked hard against the dizziness and slowly pushed myself upright. My palms shook against the polished marble as I steadied myself. When my focus sharpened, I saw Sabrina standing several paces behind him.

Her arms were wrapped loosely around herself, tears streaking down her face. She appeared small. Delicate.

Believable.

“What is going on?” I asked, my voice rough from the impact.

Nikolai towered over me, his chest rising and falling with restrained rage. “You put your hands on her?” he demanded. “On a she-wolf carrying my pup?”

The accusation made no sense. “What are you talking about?”

“She came here out of concern,” he continued, his tone sharpening. “And you attacked her? Have you completely lost control?”

For several seconds, I could only stare at him.

Sabrina stepped forward hesitantly, her shoulders trembling as though she were barely holding herself together. “I only wanted to bring her tea,” she murmured. “She looked so distressed, and I thought maybe we could talk. But she started shouting. She said I destroyed her life.” Her voice cracked convincingly. “Then she struck me.”

Disbelief flooded through me.

“She told me I should be dead,” Sabrina added in a hushed tone, lowering her gaze. “I didn’t want to upset you, Nikolai, but she frightened me.”

The audacity of the lie stole the air from my lungs.

“You’re fabricating this,” I said quietly, still seated on the floor. “I never touched you.”

Her lower lip trembled, and she turned her face away as though wounded by my denial.

Nikolai didn’t hesitate.

“Get up,” he growled. “And remove yourself from my sight before I forget you’re Luna of this pack.”

I lifted my gaze to his, my cheek burning, my lip throbbing. “You truly believe her?” I asked. “You think I would harm her?”

For a flicker of a second, something uncertain crossed his eyes. Doubt. Then it hardened into cold resolve.

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he said flatly. “Jealousy has corrupted your judgment.”

A hollow sound slipped from me. “Jealous? Of what, exactly?”

The taste of copper filled my mouth. When I wiped at my lip, my fingers came away stained with blood.

His eyes dropped briefly to it. His jaw tightened, and for an instant he looked almost conflicted. He stepped forward.

“Genevieve—”

“Nikolai,” Sabrina interrupted faintly, pressing her hand to her temple. “I feel lightheaded. She hit me harder than I realized.”

His focus shifted immediately.

Without hesitation, he turned away from me and gathered her into his arms, supporting her as though she might shatter. She leaned against him, fragile and trembling.

I watched in silence.

Over his shoulder, she glanced at me.

The tears were gone.

Only triumph remained.

Three days, I reminded myself.

Three days, and I would never have to endure this house again.

—

At dawn the next morning, I slipped out before the household stirred.

The drive to the clinic felt surreal, as though I were observing someone else’s life from a distance. My chest tightened in the waiting room while the seconds dragged mercilessly. I fixed my gaze on the far wall, unwilling to think too deeply.

My hand drifted to my abdomen without conscious thought.

It was still flat, unchanged, revealing nothing of the life quietly growing inside me. But I knew.

A pup.

After years of believing my body incapable, after enduring whispers that I was defective, unworthy of carrying an Alpha’s heir, life had taken root within me.

Tears threatened again, but I forced them back. This wasn’t about longing. It was about survival.

A nurse called my name.

I rose slowly, my legs heavier than they should have been, and followed her into a consultation room. The doctor scanned my file before turning toward me.

Recognition dawned instantly in his expression.

“Mrs. Virelli?” he said, clearly startled.

He had stood at my bedside six years ago after the accident, explaining with rehearsed sympathy that my injuries made future pregnancy unlikely.

I managed a faint, strained smile.

He glanced between me and the chart. “Are you certain about this decision?”

My throat constricted, words refusing to form.

He set the file aside and stepped closer, his tone gentle but steady. “You need to understand how rare this is. Given the trauma you sustained, this pregnancy is remarkable.”

I closed my eyes briefly.

“If you proceed with termination,” he continued carefully, “there is a significant chance you will never conceive again. Even with medical assistance. This may be your only opportunity.”

The weight of his statement settled heavily over me.

Only opportunity.

I saw Nikolai’s hand striking my face. Sabrina draped in my robe. Kael waiting for my answer.

My world had already shattered.

Now I had to decide which fragments were worth saving.