My Alpha Accused Me of Killing Our Unborn Child

The next morning, I returned to Jacob's office with trembling hands. The ash of my mother's remains still clung to the expensive carpet, tiny gray specks mocking me in the early light.

I dropped to my knees, fingers sifting through the fibers. Each speck I collected felt like gathering pieces of my own soul. Five years of submission, of enduring Jacob's cruelty, and now this—the final desecration.

The door opened. Jacob entered with Beta Marcus, their voices carrying the casual indifference of men discussing pack business.

"The Northern border needs reinforcement," Marcus was saying. "The rogues have been testing our boundaries again."

I kept my head down, trying to become invisible as I worked. My damaged hip throbbed from kneeling, but I dared not shift position.

"Rose." Jacob's voice cut through the room. "Clean around the desk first. I need to use it."

I gathered what little ash I'd collected into a small cloth and crawled toward the desk, my movements slow and painful.

Marcus's eyes followed me, something like pity flickering across his face. "Alpha, perhaps the Luna needs rest. She's been working since dawn."

"She's not Luna," Jacob snapped, his boot deliberately stepping over my outstretched hand. "She's a substitute. And substitutes don't get to rest until their duties are done."

I felt Marcus's gaze on me as I carefully vacuumed ash from beneath Jacob's chair. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken words.

"Alpha," Marcus tried again, "the pack is watching. If you want to maintain—"

"I don't care what the pack thinks," Jacob growled. "She needs to learn her place."

As they continued discussing pack matters over my bent back, something inside me shifted—a tectonic plate of submission finally reaching its breaking point. I would never be free as long as I remained here, no matter how much I submitted.

---

Weeks passed in a blur of routine humiliation. I rose before dawn to prepare Jacob's meals, endured his cold stares across the dining hall, and retreated to my small room at night to count the days until I could escape.

But escape plans required strength. And strength required food.

I stared at the breakfast tray I'd prepared for Jacob, my stomach churning violently. The smell of bacon made my mouth water and then immediately clench in revolt.

"No," I whispered, pressing my palm against my mouth. "Not now."

But my body betrayed me. I barely made it to the bathroom before emptying what little I'd managed to eat the night before.

Morning sickness. I'd seen it in other she-wolves.

I slid down against the cool tile wall, one hand moving instinctively to my abdomen. It couldn't be possible. Jacob had only come to my bed once—a night of grief-stricken drunkenness months ago when Milani had left him angry and unsatisfied.

Yet here I was, my body changing in ways that could only mean one thing.

A pup. Jacob's pup grew inside me.

Terror gripped me so tightly I couldn't breathe. If Jacob discovered this... if Milani found out...

I forced myself to stand on shaky legs. The pack gardens had herbs—rosemary, sage, mint—that could mask a she-wolf's scent. Dr. Elena had once mentioned their properties during a training session.

I waited until nightfall before slipping out. The garden was silent except for the rustling of leaves and the distant howl of a patrol wolf. I gathered what I needed quickly, crushing the leaves between my fingers to release their oils.

From then on, I carried them everywhere—tucked into my bra, sewn into the hem of my clothes. The sharp, medicinal scent became my constant companion.

---

"The meat is overcooked," Milani declared loudly, pushing her plate away during the pack lunch. "I expect better from our kitchen staff."

I kept my eyes on my own plate, picking at vegetables while avoiding the roasted venison that had been placed before me. The smell alone was enough to make my stomach rebel.

"You," Milani called suddenly, pointing at me. "Yes, you, Rose. Do you find the food disgusting as well?"

All eyes turned to me. I forced myself to take a small bite of meat, though every instinct screamed in protest.

"It's fine," I said quietly.

Milani's perfectly shaped eyebrow arched. She rose from her seat at the Alpha table and approached mine, leaning down until her face was inches from mine.

"Something's different about you," she whispered, inhaling deeply. "Your scent has changed."

My heart stopped. Had the herbs failed? Could she smell the pregnancy?

"You're trying to seduce him again, aren't you?" Her voice dripped venom. "After everything he's done for you?"

"I don't know what you mean," I replied, keeping my voice steady despite the fear coursing through me.

Later, in the communal washroom, Milani cornered me as I washed dishes. Her reflection appeared in the mirror behind me, her smile sharp as a blade.

"If you're trying to catch Jacob's attention," she said softly, "I'll make sure you're exiled to the Omega quarters by nightfall."

I met her eyes in the mirror, my own reflecting a calm I didn't feel. "I'm not trying to catch anyone's attention."

"Good." She leaned closer, her expensive perfume making my stomach turn. "Because you're nothing but a placeholder, Rose. A living reminder of his humiliation. And I won't let you forget it."