My Alpha Chose My Killer Over Our Unborn Child

The operating theater lights blinded my good eye as I was forced to stand over Rayne's unconscious form. My hands moved against my will, the Alpha Command still controlling my body. I hated myself for what I was about to do—save the woman who had helped destroy my life.

"Prepare the patient," I rasped, my damaged voice barely audible. The junior healers jumped at my command, not recognizing me but responding to the authority in my tone.

I washed my hands with surgical precision, feeling the familiar rhythm take over. Even with only one good eye, my fingers remembered every step. The legendary healer of the Blood Moon Pack couldn't be completely suppressed.

"Scalpel," I whispered, holding out my hand.

As I made the first incision, I inhaled deeply. Beneath the surgical masks and antiseptic, my enhanced senses detected something wrong—something toxic.

"This isn't a normal pregnancy," I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

Gunner's head snapped toward me, his eyes narrowing. "What did you say?"

I ignored him, focusing on the tissue beneath my fingers. The moment I opened the abdominal cavity, the truth became clear. There was no healthy fetus—only a mass of tissue swollen with herbs and magic.

"She's been taking black cohosh and pennyroyal," I said, my voice growing stronger with anger. "Combined with moonflower extract."

The junior healers gasped. Those herbs were forbidden for pregnant wolves—they could mimic pregnancy symptoms but caused severe damage.

"There is no heir," I continued, removing the infected mass. "Only a toxic infection that her body is rejecting."

Gunner's face drained of color. "Fix it," he demanded, but his voice lacked conviction.

I worked methodically, cleaning the infection and repairing the damage. My hands moved with the precision that had earned me my reputation, even as my heart screamed in protest.

"You're saving her life," Samuel whispered beside me. "Why would you do that?"

I couldn't answer. Because despite everything, I was still a healer. Still bound by the oath to preserve life.

---

Hours later, I changed Rayne's bandages in the recovery room. The wolfsbane anesthesia had loosened her tongue, and she mumbled constantly, thinking she was speaking to a nameless, faceless healer.

"You don't know what it's like," she slurred, her eyes unfocused. "Being second best all the time."

I kept my head down, focusing on my task.

"Lucia always had everything," Rayne continued, her voice bitter. "The title, the respect, Gunner's devotion."

My hands trembled slightly as I adjusted her IV.

"It was so easy," she giggled, then winced at the pain. "The rogues did exactly what we paid them to do. Tore her apart like paper."

I froze, the dressing scissors hovering in mid-air.

"She begged," Rayne laughed, the sound like broken glass. "Begged for her little mutt baby's life. As if Gunner would want weak blood in his line."

Something stirred deep within me—a presence I hadn't felt since that night at the border.

"He kicked her," Rayne continued, unaware of the change in the room. "Right in the ribs. Sent her flying down that ravine."

My wolf surged forward with a howl that echoed through my mind. She had awakened from her dormancy, screaming for vengeance.

"Should have seen her face," Rayne giggled. "When she realized her precious mate had ordered her death."

I stepped back, my body shaking with the force of my wolf's rage.

"What's wrong?" Rayne slurred, finally noticing my reaction. "You look... different."

I turned away before she could see the silver glow that I knew had appeared in my eyes—the sign of my wolf's return.

---

Three days later, I managed to slip away from my bed during the night shift. My body was healing faster than anyone expected, my legendary abilities working from within.

The hallway was empty as I made my way to my old office. The door was unlocked—no one thought to secure it since the "Luna" was dead.

Inside, pack members were boxing up my belongings, preparing the space for Rayne. I moved silently between them, a ghost in bandages.

When alone for a moment, I knelt by the loose floorboard beneath my desk. My fingers worked quickly, pulling it up to reveal the small compartment beneath.

My medical journal lay there, bound in leather and filled with my meticulous handwriting. I flipped to the last entry, dated the day before the attack:

"Confirmed pregnancy today. Strong Alpha aura in the fetus. Gunner will be so proud when I tell him on our anniversary."

I traced the words with trembling fingers, then quickly tucked the journal into my bandages, hiding it against my chest.

Evidence. Proof that I had been carrying an Alpha heir—not the weak offspring Gunner had claimed.

As I replaced the floorboard and stood, my wolf stirred within me, no longer dormant but burning with purpose.

The truth was mine now. And soon, everyone would know it.