My Alpha Chose His Bastard Over Our Pup

The fluorescent lights in the hospital corridor cast everything in harsh, clinical white. I stood there, still reeling from my own words, watching Ryker's face cycle through emotions like a broken slideshow. Shock. Anger. And something else—something that looked disturbingly like disgust.

Then he did something that made my blood freeze.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, right there in the hallway. Right in front of me. The flame from his lighter flickered against his face, casting shadows that made him look like a stranger.

"You want this baby so badly," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "that you'd smoke in front of your pregnant wife?"

The cigarette dangled from his lips as he took a long drag, his gray eyes fixed on mine with cold calculation. He said nothing, just stood there polluting the air between us with smoke and silence.

My wolf stirred restlessly, confused by the mixed signals. This was our mate, the father of our child, and yet every instinct screamed danger. The acrid smell of tobacco mixed with the lingering scent of Victoria's perfume on his clothes, creating a nauseating cocktail that made my stomach lurch.

"Sammi—" He caught himself, his jaw tightening. "Serena. We need to talk."

Sammi. The name hit me like a slap. That's what he'd called me when we were young, when he'd promised me forever under the old oak tree behind the pack house. When had he stopped using it? When had I become just Serena to him?

"Lucas is very possessive," he said finally, taking another drag. "He doesn't share well. He wouldn't accept another child."

I stared at him, certain I'd misheard. "What did you say?"

"You heard me." His voice was matter-of-fact, as if he were discussing the weather. "He's only four, but he's already showing Alpha traits. Strong territorial instincts. Another child would upset him."

The words hung in the air like poison. He was using a four-year-old's feelings—his illegitimate son's feelings—to determine the fate of our child. Our legitimate heir.

"So what are you saying, Ryker?" My voice came out steadier than I felt.

He dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his heel, the sound echoing off the sterile walls. When he looked up, his eyes held no warmth, no love, no recognition of the woman who'd built his empire.

"Get rid of it," he said simply. "I already have Lucas. That's enough."

The fluorescent lights seemed to flicker, or maybe that was just my vision going dark around the edges. Get rid of it. Not 'our baby' or 'the child.' It. Like I was carrying garbage instead of his heir.

For the first time in five years of marriage, my wolf truly snarled in my mind. Not the restless stirring I'd felt before, but a full-throated roar of rage that demanded blood. She wanted to shift, to tear this man apart with claws and fangs, to show him what happened when you threatened our young.

I pressed my palms against the wall behind me, fighting for control. The cool tile helped ground me, kept me from doing something I might regret.

"And if I refuse?" The words came out like ice chips.

Ryker stepped closer, and I caught another wave of Victoria's scent. It was stronger now, as if it had seeped into his very pores. "You don't have any family left, Serena. No pack to run to. No one to protect you." His voice dropped to a whisper that somehow felt more threatening than a shout. "I'd hate for things to get ugly between us."

The threat was clear. Submit, or be destroyed. It was the same ultimatum his mother had given me years ago, dressed up in prettier words. But I wasn't the same frightened girl who'd arrived at Silvercrest with nothing but hope and love in her heart.

I felt something wet on my cheek and realized I was crying. When had the tears started? But even as they fell, my voice remained steady, cold as winter morning.

"You want to hurt my child?" I wiped my face with the back of my hand, never breaking eye contact. "Then I'll make sure your child pays the price."

The change in Ryker was instantaneous. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my throat with enough pressure to make breathing difficult but not impossible. His Alpha aura flared, pressing down on me like a physical weight.

"You touch one hair on Lucas's head," he growled, his face inches from mine, "and I will destroy you so completely that no one will even remember your name."

But I didn't flinch. Didn't submit. Instead, I looked directly into his eyes—those golden amber eyes that our child would inherit—and smiled.

"I'll make you regret every word you just said, Ryker Blackwood."

Something flickered in his gaze then. Uncertainty, maybe. Or the first stirring of fear. His grip on my throat loosened slightly.

"You don't have it in you," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Try me."

We stood there in that sterile hallway, locked in a battle of wills that felt like it lasted hours but probably only took seconds. Finally, Ryker released me and stepped back, his hand falling to his side.

"You're making a mistake, Serena."

"No," I said, touching my throat where his fingers had left red marks. "You made the mistake five years ago when you married me thinking I'd stay weak forever."

I turned and walked away, my heels clicking against the polished floor with each measured step. I didn't look back, didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words had shattered me.

But as I reached the elevator, I caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of my eye. Victoria stood in the doorway of room 312, her perfect features arranged in an expression of concern that didn't quite reach her eyes. She'd been listening. She'd heard everything.

And as the elevator doors closed between us, I saw her smile. Not the worried expression she'd worn for Ryker's benefit, but a cold, calculating smile of victory.

That night, alone in our penthouse that suddenly felt like a mausoleum, my phone buzzed with an incoming message. Unknown number, but I knew who it was before I even opened it.

The video was short but devastating. Ryker and Victoria in what looked like the Fifth Street penthouse, their bodies intertwined with desperate passion. But it was the audio that made my blood freeze.

"God, Victoria, I can't wait for this to be over," Ryker's voice was rough with desire. "I already have Lucas. I don't need whatever's growing in her belly."

Victoria's laugh was like broken glass. "Poor little Luna. She actually thinks you want her baby."

The video ended, but the message that followed was crystal clear: *He'll never choose you. Give up now, and I might let you keep some dignity.*

I set the phone down with hands that barely trembled and walked to the window. The city sprawled below me, lights twinkling like stars in the darkness. Somewhere out there, my husband was with his real family, planning my destruction.

But Ryker had made one crucial mistake. He'd forgotten that I wasn't just his wife.

I was Serena Blackwood, the woman who'd built his empire from nothing.

And I was about to remind him exactly what that meant.