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My Alpha Humiliated Me While I Carried His Heir Novel Cover

My Alpha Humiliated Me While I Carried His Heir

At 5:47 a.m., three days before she meant to tell Alpha Jacob she was carrying his child, the mate bond shattered. The bite mark on her neck turned frostbitten, then numb, the chill crawling through her collarbone toward her heart. She was reviewing border patrol reports when Garrett knocked — a steady senior wolf, yet pale as death. "Luna," he said quietly, "I need to report something." She let him in and shut the door. In one brutal morning, a rejected Luna must face a shattered bond, a dangerous secret, and the Alpha who humiliated her — while his heir grows beneath her heart.
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Chapter 3

The announcement came through the mind-link while I was reviewing patrol schedules.

*Luna.* Maren's voice, careful and quiet. *There's a meeting in the main hall. The Alpha called it an hour ago.*

I set down my pen. "I wasn't notified."

*No, Luna. You weren't invited.*

I felt my wolf stir. Not the pacing this time. Something sharper. She pushed against my ribs, and for a moment I couldn't breathe through the pressure.

"What's the meeting about?" I asked.

*Fiona. He's giving her a role. Administrative duties, he said. She'll be working in the pack house.*

I closed my eyes. Administrative duties. No formal title. Just visibility. Just proximity. Just Fiona at Jacob's side every day where everyone could see her, where the pack would start to think of her as the woman who belonged there.

My wolf snarled. The sound was so loud inside my head I flinched.

"Who attended?" I asked.

Maren hesitated. *Senior warriors. Gamma Crest. Most of the Deltas. Luna, I'm sorry. I didn't know until—*

*It's fine, Maren.*

It wasn't fine. My wolf knew it wasn't fine. She was pressing harder now, clawing at something I couldn't name yet, something my strategic mind refused to look at directly.

Because if I looked at it, I would have to call it what it was.

Replacement.

I opened my eyes and stared at the patrol schedule. The words blurred together. I forced myself to focus on the numbers, the shift rotations, the gaps in coverage that had appeared over the last two months.

Gaps I hadn't created.

I pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and started writing.

---

Jovie came back three days later, just after midnight.

I was still awake. I'd been awake for most of the last seventy-two hours, cross-referencing supply logs and courier manifests. The safe house was cold. I'd let the fire die hours ago.

He knocked twice, then let himself in. His jacket was torn at the shoulder, and there was mud caked on his boots.

"Tell me," I said.

He dropped a folder on my desk. It landed with a heavy thud.

"She's mated," he said. "To a rogue named Silas. He runs a smuggling network through the northwestern corridor. Wolfsbane, mostly. Some silver weapons. The pup she's carrying is his."

I stared at the folder. I didn't open it yet.

"How long?"

"At least eight months. Maybe longer." Jovie pulled out a chair and sat down heavily. "She's been using our couriers. The ones Jacob reassigned to her escort detail. They didn't know what they were carrying. She told them it was personal correspondence."

I opened the folder.

Inside were photographs. Grainy, taken from a distance. Fiona meeting a man outside a warehouse. The same man loading crates into a truck with Ironveil's pack crest on the door. A third photo showed the crates opened, rows of dark glass bottles visible inside.

Wolfsbane.

Our wolfsbane.

"How much?" I asked.

Jovie's jaw tightened. "Thirty percent of our reserves. Maybe more. The records were altered. Someone with access to the main inventory logs."

I flipped to the next page. It was a construction manifest. Materials. Labor hours. Location coordinates.

A den. Jacob had built Fiona a private den on pack land.

And he'd stripped the resources from our border patrols to do it.

"The northern perimeter is down to skeleton shifts," Jovie said quietly. "The western line has gaps every third night. If anyone wanted to hit us, Luna, we're wide open."

I read the manifest twice. Then I closed the folder and stood up.

"Get me every supply requisition Jacob signed in the last year," I said. "Every warrior reassignment. Every courier log. I want timestamps. I want signatures. I want a paper trail so clean even he can't argue with it."

Jovie nodded and left.

I sat back down and opened a fresh ledger. My hands were steady. My wolf had gone quiet again, but I could feel her there, watching, waiting.

I started writing.

---

The senior warrior council met every third Thursday in a small room behind the training hall. It was old protocol, established long before I became Luna. Gamma Crest ran it.

I arrived with the folder under my arm and knocked once.

Crest opened the door. He was a big man, gray around the muzzle, with a face that gave nothing away. He'd served Jacob's father. He'd served Jacob. He'd never once questioned an Alpha's order in his life.

"Luna," he said. Not welcoming. Not hostile. Just acknowledgment.

"I need five minutes," I said.

He stepped aside.

The room was small and smelled like leather and old smoke. Four senior warriors sat around a wooden table. They all looked up when I entered. None of them stood.

I set the folder on the table.

"Wolfsbane diversion," I said. "Eight months of systematic theft. Thirty percent of our reserves funneled to a rogue smuggling network through compromised couriers. The evidence is documented. Timestamps, manifests, photographs."

Crest picked up the folder. He opened it slowly and read the first page. Then the second. His expression didn't change.

The other warriors leaned in, glancing at the photos. One of them muttered something under his breath.

Crest closed the folder.

"This is a serious accusation," he said.

"It's documented fact," I replied.

He set the folder down and looked at me. His eyes were flat and unreadable.

"This is a matter for the Alpha," he said.

I felt my wolf surge. She slammed against my ribs so hard I almost gasped.

"The Alpha is compromised," I said carefully. "The woman in question is living in the pack house under his protection. He won't act."

"Then it's still his decision," Crest said.

The room was silent.

I looked at each of them in turn. Warriors I had trained beside. Men who had eaten at my table. Who had sworn oaths to protect this pack.

Not one of them met my eyes.

I picked up the folder.

"Understood," I said.

I walked out.

Behind me, I heard one of them start to speak. Crest's voice cut him off, low and sharp.

I didn't look back.

Outside, the air was cold and clean. I stood there for a moment, the folder pressed against my chest, and felt my wolf finally settle.

She wasn't pacing anymore.

She was done waiting.

I walked back to the safe house, opened the ledger, and added a new entry.

*Gamma Crest: refused to act without Alpha sanction. Evidence returned. Date. Time. Witnesses present.*

I underlined the last line twice.

Then I turned to a fresh page and wrote a single name at the top.

*Lycan Court.*

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