My Alpha Chose His Assistant Over Our Baby

The ultrasound image felt like a fragile thing in my coat pocket. A small square of glossy paper that held everything I'd been too afraid to hope for. I pressed my hand against it through the fabric as I drove toward the Shadowvale pack house, feeling the edges dig into my palm.

A baby. Our baby.

I'd gone to a private healer two towns over, away from pack territory, because I needed to be sure before I said anything. Dr. Callahan had smiled when she'd turned the monitor toward me. "Eight weeks along, Luna. Perfectly healthy."

I'd stared at the tiny blur on the screen and felt something crack open inside me. Not hope, exactly. Something bigger. Something that made my wolf Sera stir for the first time in months, a low rumble of recognition deep in my chest.

Maybe this would change things. Maybe when Jameson saw the ultrasound, when he understood we were going to be parents, he would finally look at me the way he used to. Before the coldness. Before his mother's voice became louder than mine. Before Lana.

I shook my head, banishing the thought. I wouldn't think about Lana. Not today.

The pack house came into view through the trees, its stone facade catching the afternoon light. I reached for the mind-link, the invisible thread that connected me to Jameson through our bond.

*Jameson? I'm almost there. I need to talk to you.*

Nothing. Static.

I frowned and tried again, pushing harder through the connection. *Jameson, can you hear me?*

The link flickered and died. Not like he was busy or distracted. Like someone had deliberately severed it.

My hands tightened on the steering wheel. I parked in the circular drive and pulled out my phone, dialing his number. It rang once. Then the line went dead.

Sera snarled softly in my mind. *Something's wrong.*

I climbed out of the car and walked toward the main entrance, my pulse picking up speed. The pack house was quiet. Too quiet for a weekday afternoon. I pushed through the heavy oak doors and stepped into the foyer.

Voices drifted from the Alpha's private wing. I recognized one of them immediately.

Lana.

I walked down the hall, my footsteps silent on the polished floor. The door to Jameson's office was open. I stopped in the doorway and felt the air leave my lungs.

Lana Voss sat behind the Luna's desk. My desk. She had a phone pressed to her ear, her perfectly manicured fingers tapping notes on a leather planner I'd never seen before. Two pack staff members stood nearby, waiting for instructions.

"Tell the Crescent delegation we'll confirm by Friday," Lana said smoothly. "No, the Alpha is unavailable right now. I'll handle it."

She hung up and glanced at the staff members. "Make sure the west wing is ready for the visit. And check the inventory on—" She looked up and saw me. Her expression shifted into something warm and concerned. "Oh, Luna. I didn't hear you come in."

I stared at her. At the desk. At the way she sat there like she belonged.

"Where's Jameson?" My voice came out flat.

Lana stood, smoothing her skirt. "He's in a critical meeting. I'd hate for you to interrupt." She tilted her head, her smile gentle. Pitying. "Is everything all right? You look upset."

I pressed my thumb against the inside of my left wrist, hard enough to hurt. "Why are you sitting at my desk?"

"Oh." Lana glanced down as if she'd only just noticed. "I'm so sorry. There's just been so much to manage lately, and Jameson asked me to handle the scheduling. I didn't think you'd mind."

She stepped around the desk, moving closer. The two staff members shifted uncomfortably and left without a word.

"You blocked my mind-link," I said quietly.

Lana's eyes widened. "I would never—"

"Don't lie to me."

For just a second, something cold flickered across her face. Then it was gone, replaced by that same soft concern. She reached up to adjust her collar, and that's when I saw it.

A tattoo. Black ink on her collarbone, just visible above the neckline of her blouse.

It was a scar. The exact shape and size of the mate-marking scar on Jameson's neck. The scar he'd gotten the night he shielded me from a rogue attack in high school. The scar that had bound me to him for five years.

She'd copied it. Permanently. On her own skin.

Sera went absolutely silent in my mind. The kind of silence that comes before an avalanche.

Lana followed my gaze and smiled. A real smile this time. "Do you like it? I thought it was fitting."

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The ultrasound in my pocket felt like it was burning through the fabric.

Footsteps sounded behind me. Jameson's voice filled the hallway. "Lana, did the Crescent pack confirm—" He stopped when he saw me. "Zelda. What are you doing here?"

I turned to face him. My mate. The father of the child I was carrying. The man who had just walked past me like I was furniture.

"What is that?" I pointed at Lana's collarbone. "What is that tattoo?"

Jameson glanced at Lana, then back at me. His jaw tightened. "It's nothing. A design she liked."

"It's your scar," I said. My voice shook. "She copied your bonding scar."

"Zelda." Jameson's tone shifted. Harder. The Alpha tone creeping in at the edges. "You're making a scene over jealousy, and I won't have it."

Three pack members appeared in the hallway behind him, drawn by the raised voices. I felt their eyes on me. Felt the weight of their judgment.

"She's been blocking my mind-link," I said. "Screening my calls. Sitting at my desk like she's—"

"Enough." The Alpha tone slammed into me like a physical blow. My wolf whimpered and went still. "Lana is indispensable to this pack. She manages things I don't have time for. You should be grateful someone competent is handling it."

Grateful.

I stared at him. At the man I'd spent five years trying to reach. The man whose child I was carrying.

Lana stepped forward, her hand brushing Jameson's arm. "I'm sure Luna didn't mean to cause trouble," she said softly. "She's just worried. Aren't you, Zelda?"

I pressed my thumb harder against my wrist. Hard enough to leave a mark.

Then I turned and walked out of the pack house.

I didn't say a word about the ultrasound hidden in my coat.