Marked by the Wrong Alpha

Genevieve’s POV

His warning lingered in my ears long after he stopped speaking.

For several seconds, I couldn’t seem to draw a full breath. The doctor’s words—a miracle… perhaps your only chance—collided violently with the chaos of the past few days. My pulse pounded so fiercely it almost hurt.

My hand drifted to my abdomen again without thinking.

I remembered the countless nights I had lain awake inside the Alpha estate, staring into the darkness while Nikolai slept beside me as though nothing in the world troubled him. I remembered the quiet humiliation of pack gatherings, when other Luna’s would announce their pregnancies beneath glittering chandeliers while congratulations echoed around the hall. I would always excuse myself before my composure fractured, hiding in empty corridors until the ache in my chest dulled.

I remembered praying silently to the Moon Goddess for something—anything—that would fill the hollow space inside me.

And now, that answer was here.

And I had nearly chosen to destroy it because of a male who had already erased me from his life.

The realization broke whatever restraint I had been clinging to. Tears spilled over as I covered my mouth, my shoulders shaking. The thought of willingly ending the only life that had chosen me felt unbearable.

“No,” I whispered hoarsely, shaking my head. “I can’t do it.”

The doctor studied me carefully. “You’ve reconsidered?”

“I’m keeping this pup,” I said, my voice trembling but firm. “Even if I have to raise it alone. This isn’t a mistake. It’s the only blessing I’ve ever been given.”

A faint warmth touched his expression. “Then we’ll proceed carefully. Given your medical history, we’ll monitor you closely. You’ll need to be cautious.”

When I stepped out of the hospital later, the air felt different—lighter somehow. For the first time in days, something steadier than grief settled in my chest.

In three days, I would leave.

And this time, I would not be alone.

“Genevieve!”

My name cut sharply through the air, freezing me mid-step.

Nikolai.

I turned slowly, tension tightening every muscle. He crossed the hospital entrance in long, urgent strides and seized my arm before I could speak, his fingers gripping hard enough to bruise.

“Thank the Goddess I found you,” he said, breath uneven, eyes alert in a way that told me this wasn’t about reconciliation.

I pulled slightly against his hold. “What’s happened?”

“It’s Sabrina,” he answered quickly. “She’s been admitted.”

I frowned. “Admitted for what?”

“She spiked a fever during the night,” he said, his tone sharpening. “After the stress you put her under.”

My jaw clenched. “I never laid a hand on her.”

He ignored that entirely. “She collapsed this morning. The physicians say she’s weak and dehydrated. They need to transfuse blood.”

A cold sensation crept through me. “And?”

Nikolai’s gaze locked onto mine. “Her blood type is rare. You’re a universal donor. You’re the only immediate match available.”

For a moment, I simply stared at him.

“You expect me to give her my blood?” I asked quietly.

“This isn’t about your wounded pride,” he snapped. “It’s about protecting my heir.”

He began pulling me toward the entrance.

I dug my heels into the pavement. “You command half the hospitals in this city. You have access to private reserves and blood banks. Why me?”

He turned sharply, his eyes hard as stone. “Because this situation is your fault.”

The accusation stunned me. “She lied to you!”

“I don’t have time for your delusions,” he cut in coldly. “She carries my pup. If anything happens to her—”

Something inside me snapped.

“I’m pregnant,” I said.

The words escaped before I could reconsider them.

He went completely still.

“What did you say?”

“I’m pregnant,” I repeated, louder now, my voice shaking despite my effort to remain steady. “The doctor confirmed it. It’s high risk. If I donate blood, it could jeopardize the pregnancy.”

Silence stretched between us.

Then he laughed.

It wasn’t disbelief.

It was disdain.

“You expect me to accept that?” he said slowly, shaking his head. “You think fabricating a pregnancy will excuse you from responsibility?”

“I’m not lying,” I whispered, tears threatening again. “You remember what the healers told us after the accident. They said it was nearly impossible. This is a miracle.”

His expression only hardened. “You’ve always wanted leverage. Now you believe this makes you untouchable.”

“Nikolai—”

“Enough.” His voice dropped, final and absolute. “You will donate. That is not negotiable.”

Anger surged through me, stronger than fear this time. I pulled my arm free.

“No,” I said, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I won’t risk my child for her.”

His face darkened dangerously.

“You would let her die because of jealousy?”

“I won’t sacrifice my pup,” I answered steadily. “Not for Sabrina. Not for you.”

The fury in his eyes burned hotter.

“If you walk away from this,” he said slowly, jaw clenched tight, “I will dismantle that sanctuary your father built. Stone by stone. And I’ll make sure you’re there to witness it.”

The threat struck exactly where he intended.

The sanctuary was the last untouched piece of my father’s legacy—the only place in this territory not stained by pack politics or blood.

And Nikolai knew it.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to something lethal. “Choose wisely, Genevieve.”

In that moment, clarity settled over me.

I was no longer afraid of losing him.

I was afraid of what I would become if I stayed.