My Alpha Believed Her Lies Over Our Bond

I found her waiting for me at the top of the grand marble staircase, the one place in the packhouse where footsteps echoed like thunder. Loretta sat in her wheelchair, bathed in the afternoon light streaming through the stained glass windows, looking like a painting of innocence. But her eyes—those eyes that Matthew never really saw—were sharp as broken glass.

'It's so quiet today,' she said, her voice carrying in the empty hall. 'Everyone's at the territory meeting. Just us girls.'

I gripped the banister, my burned skin still throbbing beneath the bandages. 'I'm busy, Loretta.'

'Oh, I'm sure you are.' She wheeled herself forward until she blocked my path down the stairs. 'Busy pretending you're still Luna. Busy hiding your little secret.'

My blood turned to ice. 'What are you talking about?'

She smiled, the kind of smile that belonged in a horror story. 'I know about the heart transplant, Penelope. I know whose heart beats in your chest.'

The world tilted. I'd never told anyone. Matthew's late sister—her heart had saved my life after a childhood illness. The surgery had been arranged while I was unconscious, a gift I'd only discovered later. How could Loretta know?

'The heart is rejecting you,' she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. 'It knows Matthew doesn't love you. It knows you don't deserve to live.'

'You're lying.' But my hand went to my chest, feeling the steady beat that had kept me alive for all these years.

'Am I?' She leaned forward. 'I wonder if Matthew knows about the pup you're carrying. Your little bastard of a dying wolf.'

The words hit me like a physical blow. I was pregnant. Six weeks along. I hadn't even told Matthew yet, waiting for the right moment, waiting for him to see me again.

'How did you—'

'I watch you,' she said simply. 'I see everything. The way you hold your stomach when you think no one's looking. The way you've stopped drinking wine.' Her eyes gleamed with malicious delight. 'Matthew will be so disappointed. Another broken thing you couldn't protect.'

Rage—pure, molten rage—surged through me. I pushed past her, my shoulder hitting her wheelchair. 'Move.'

She grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. 'You're nothing,' she hissed. 'Nothing but a placeholder. A body keeping his real Luna warm.'

I tried to wrench free. 'Let go of me.'

Instead, she pulled herself up from the wheelchair, her legs strong and sure, and flung herself backward toward the stairs. At the same time, her foot shot out, catching my ankle.

Time slowed.

I saw her lips curve in triumph as she let go of my arm. I felt my body pitch forward, my arms windmilling uselessly. I heard the sickening crack of her wheelchair hitting the marble steps as she threw it down to cover her tracks.

Then I was falling.

Thirty steps. Thirty impacts against cold, hard marble. Each one a new agony, each one stealing my breath. I heard something crack inside me—not a bone, something deeper. The child. Our child.

I landed at the bottom in a crumpled heap, and the pain that followed was unlike anything I'd ever felt. It started deep in my abdomen and radiated outward, a tearing, ripping sensation that made me curl into myself. Blood—so much blood—pooled beneath me, soaking into the expensive carpet.

'Matthew!' I screamed, the word tearing from my throat. 'Matthew!'

But he was gone. At the territory meeting. No one was coming.

Through the haze of agony, I heard footsteps thundering through the packhouse. Loretta's voice, pitched high with fake panic: 'Help! Someone help! The Luna fell down the stairs!'

She appeared at the top of the staircase, her face a perfect mask of terror. Behind her, the Omega Housekeeper emerged from the shadows, her eyes cold and calculating.

'Get the fire extinguisher,' Loretta whispered to her. 'And meet me at the security hub.'

I tried to stand, to crawl, to do anything, but the pain was overwhelming. I watched through a veil of tears as Loretta wheeled herself toward the back of the packhouse, moving with purpose, moving like a woman who had never needed saving.

The last thing I saw before the darkness took me was smoke beginning to rise from the security wing, carrying with it the evidence of what she had done.