My Alpha Postponed Our Wedding, So I Changed the Groom

The note was waiting on the kitchen counter when I woke up.

*Morning, sweetheart. Don't forget your ring, you'll lose it. I'll be home by seven. I'm cooking tonight. Your favorite. —C*

A little heart was drawn in the corner, the same one he'd drawn for seven years.

Last night, I'd told him the ring was in the bathroom because I'd been washing my hands. He believed me. He hadn't even come to check.

My wolf used to wake up wagging at notes like this. This morning she just lay there, quiet and heavy inside my chest.

I crumpled the paper and opened the pack network.

Vivienne had posted an hour ago.

Fireworks over Silver Moon Bay. Gold and silver bursts across the water. The camera swung toward a man in a dark coat.

Callum.

He bent over the pup in Vivienne's arms and fastened something around its tiny neck. A thin chain. A crescent of moon-silver, engraved with the Silver Moon crest.

I stopped breathing.

Seven years ago, when I was pregnant for the first time, Callum and I had attended the pack's annual blessing for expectant parents. We'd walked through knee-deep snow to reach the gathering hall. Beneath the skylight, an old priestess had blessed that exact pendant and pressed it into my palm.

"For your pup," she'd said. "May it never know cold."

That night, in our drafty cabin, we'd shared one blanket because we couldn't afford two. Callum had rubbed my frozen fingers between his.

"When I'm a real Alpha," he'd whispered, "I'll light up the whole bay. Every firework will be for you, Sloane. Only you."

The video kept playing.

Callum lifted the pup and held it against his chest. His face went soft in a way I barely recognized anymore.

Vivienne leaned her head on his shoulder.

"My mate," she murmured.

He didn't correct her.

I put the crystal down and swallowed hard against the sickness rising in my throat. Then I grabbed my keys.

---

The bay was packed for the morning festival. I spotted the car before I spotted him.

A black sedan, parked crooked at the curb. The plate read *0317*.

My birthday.

Vivienne was walking toward it with the pup bundled against her, her face glowing. Callum stepped out of the driver's side and reached for her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Like they were the family the Moon Goddess had blessed.

I pushed through the crowd.

"Take it off."

Vivienne turned. Her eyes went wide, then wet, fast as a switch.

"Sloane? What are you doing here?"

"The charm on his neck." I pointed. "Take it off."

Callum's hand landed on Vivienne's arm. "Sloane. What the hell?"

"Ask her where she got it."

"I gave it to her," he said. "So what?"

Vivienne's lip trembled. "It's just a silver trinket, Sloane. You have Callum. You have the villa, the money, everything. Why would you fight a baby over a piece of jewelry?"

A few heads in the crowd swiveled toward us.

Callum moved. He stepped in front of Vivienne and the pup, his shoulders squared, his body a wall between them and me.

Protecting them. From me.

"You're making a scene," he said quietly. "In public. Do you know how this looks for the pack?"

"Do you know what that charm is?" My voice cracked. "That was for our baby, Callum. The one we lost. It's the last blessing that child ever got."

Something flickered across his face. Then it closed off.

"That was seven years ago."

"I know exactly how long ago it was."

"Then stop dragging it around." He rubbed his forehead. "The past is the past, Sloane. You don't get to dump your grief on an innocent pup."

I stared at him.

Vivienne sniffled and reached for the clasp. "No, it's fine. If it hurts her this much, I'll give it back."

"Leave it." Callum caught her wrist. "Don't."

He turned back to me, and his mouth twisted.

"You know what your problem is? You're petty. You're jealous of a child. I didn't think you could be this small."

Small.

For three months after the miscarriage, I couldn't stand the sound of a pup crying. I'd leave stores. Cross streets. Once I hid in a bathroom stall at a pack feast for an hour, shaking, while he held the door shut so no one would see.

He'd forgotten all of it.

"Callum," I said. "Look at me."

He didn't get the chance.

Tires screamed behind us.

A black SUV jumped the curb, swerving wild, engine roaring straight toward the walkway.

People shrieked. Someone grabbed a child and ran.

Callum didn't hesitate. Not for one second.

His hand slammed into my shoulder and shoved me sideways, hard. Then he spun and threw his arms around Vivienne and the pup, curling his whole body over them.

I flew backward.

My lower back cracked against the stone railing. Pain ripped through me, white and blinding, then sank low into my belly and twisted.

The SUV smashed into a lamppost ten feet away. Glass rained across the stones.

I crumpled to the ground with my arms locked around my stomach.

Blood. I could smell blood. Mine.

My wolf let out a thin, broken howl inside my head.

"Callum," I gasped.

He was on his knees, running his hands over the pup's blanket.

"Viv, are you hurt? Is he okay? Let me see him."

"I think—I think he's fine," Vivienne sobbed. "He's just scared."

"Callum." Louder this time. "Please."

He finally glanced back. His brows pulled together.

"What were you thinking, rushing up on us like that? You scared the baby half to death."

I laughed.

It came out wet and strange, and it hurt my ribs, but I couldn't stop it.

He had scared the baby. With his crash. With his push. And I was the one to blame.

My eyes dropped to his wrist, still curled protectively around Vivienne's back. The silver scar shone in the sun.

*I'll always shield you, Sloane. With this hand, with my life. Always.*

Same hand. Different woman.

"Callum," I said. "Forget the wedding."

He blinked at me.

"We don't need to have it," I said. "It's fine."

His shoulders loosened. Actual relief washed across his face, like I'd handed him a gift.

"Yeah?" He nodded. "Good. That's—good, Sloane. I'll make it up to you. When things calm down, okay?"

"Okay."

He turned back to Vivienne before I'd even finished the word.

I gripped the railing and dragged myself up. My legs shook. Something warm slid down the inside of my thigh.

Nobody stopped me as I walked to my car.

---

The healer at the Moon Goddess Hospital frowned at the scan for a long time.

"The impact caused bleeding," she said. "The pregnancy is in serious danger. We need to start treatment right now."

"Do it."

"I'll need consent forms. Is your mate on his way?"

I looked at my crystal. No calls. No messages.

"Where is your mate, Miss Whitlock?"

I opened my mouth to answer.

Nothing came out. Only tears, sliding silently down my face and dropping onto the report in my lap.

Seven years ago, I'd lost a baby while Callum held me.

Now I might lose another while he held someone else.

I pressed my hand to my stomach and made a quiet promise.

I wasn't handing this life to a man who didn't care if I lived.

My crystal lit up.

Not Callum.

*Sloane. I'm two hours out. Where are you?*

Rhys.

The healer leaned over my shoulder. "Is that him?"

I wiped my face and typed one word.

*Hospital.*