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My Alpha Rejected Me While I Gave Birth Novel Cover

My Alpha Rejected Me While I Gave Birth

Five days before her due date, at 4:12 a.m., she rushes to Cascade cabin, bloodied and braced for battle. Instead of rogues, she finds Derek drowning in bourbon and Carly Fisher’s perfume—a fake distress call exposing his betrayal. As contractions tear through her, the silver meant for war now hangs between salvation and destruction, sealing their fates forever.
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Chapter 2

The words hung in the freezing air, but my body gave out before I could speak.

A vicious, tearing spasm ripped through my abdomen, folding me completely in half. My knees hit the wet floorboards with a dull thud. The amniotic fluid pooled between my boots, warm and heavy against the drafty chill of the cabin.

"Derek..." I gasped, clawing at my belly as the contraction tightened into a brutal knot. "Derek, stop. Please. The baby—"

He paused. For half a heartbeat, I searched his face for the man I had spent three years protecting. I looked for fear, or regret, or even basic human decency.

There was nothing.

Carly stepped smoothly in front of him, resting her manicured hand on his chest. Her green robe parted, showing bare skin, but her eyes were fixed on me like a hawk over roadkill.

"Don't lose your nerve now, Alpha," Carly purred, her voice sweet and poisonous. "Think about what Marcus offered. Fifty miles of prime border territory along the northern ridge. Full timber rights, deep water access, and ironclad protection from the Nighthollow Pack." She slid her hand up to Derek’s collar, tilting her head. "And you get me. An obedient Luna who doesn't hoard pack resources. No fated mate baggage. Just pure power. But Marcus’s deal dies if you stay tied to her. You have to cut the cord tonight."

Derek looked down at me.

I was on my hands and knees in amniotic fluid, shivering, bleeding from hauling his crates through a blizzard. I saw the gears turning behind his dark eyes. There was no internal struggle. No grief. Only pure, ruthless arithmetic. He was weighing the life of his mate and unborn pup against fifty miles of dirt.

"Derek, look at me," I sobbed, my voice cracking under the pressure of another crushing wave of labor. "She’s your daughter. She’s coming right now. Take me to the healer."

Derek sneered. He took a half-step back, pulling away from my reaching hand as if my touch might contaminate him.

"You brought this on yourself, Isabelle," he said coldly. "You destroyed the keycard. You forgot your place."

He cleared his throat. The words rolled out of him with practiced, rehearsed precision:

"I, Derek Vance, Alpha of the Ironvale Pack, formally reject you, Isabelle, as my mate and my Luna."

The world shattered.

It didn't feel like a broken heart. It felt like an iron hook had caught inside my chest and violently yanked my soul out through my throat. At the base of my neck, the mate mark he had given me three years ago didn't just fade—it split open.

A sound like tearing flesh echoed in my ears. The skin burned white-hot, then instantly went dead and icy cold, like frostbite biting straight to the bone. The mate bond snapped like a heavy cable under maximum tension, severing with the raw, blinding agony of a limb sawed off without anesthesia.

A ragged scream tore out of my lungs.

Inside me, the fierce silver wolf that had just opened her eyes let out a high, wounded yelp. She convulsed violently against my ribs, thrashing as the psychic tether snapped. Then, with a hollow, dying whimper, she collapsed into absolute blackness.

Silence fell inside my head. Horrible, empty silence.

I slumped forward onto my forearms, panting, dry-heaving against the cold timber. Blood dripped from my neck, sizzling against the wet floor.

Before I could even draw a full breath, a heavy boot stepped down hard on my calves.

"Don't pass out yet, sweetie," Carly whispered.

She knelt beside me. From her leather bag, she pulled out a thick coil of coarse rope. It was already looped and measured, dusted heavily with a sickly yellowish powder. This had never been an impulse. It was planned down to the second.

The stench hit me instantly—bitter, rancid almonds.

*Wolfsbane.*

"What are you doing?" I choked out, trying to kick, trying to pull my legs beneath me. "Get away from me!"

"Hold her still, Derek," Carly commanded.

Derek didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and planted his heavy boot onto the small of my back, pinning me to the floor. The pressure squeezed the air from my burning lungs.

Carly wrapped the rough hemp around my ankles, pulling the knot so tight the fibers bit into my skin. Then she wound it up around my knees, binding my thighs flush together.

"Stop!" I shrieked, tears blinding me as another contraction slammed into my pelvis. The baby was pushing down, but my legs were lashed shut. "You're suffocating her! Let me push!"

"Oh, stop whining," Carly laughed, giving the knot a vicious yank. "Ancient she-wolves used to birth pups mid-hunt without making a single sound. You can hold it in for a little while. Besides, Derek just had the truck detailed. We can't have you ruining the leather seats with your mess."

The moment the yellow powder rubbed against my bare skin, fire erupted.

The wolfsbane didn't just burn; it melted into my bloodstream like boiling acid. Blistering welts flared instantly across my legs, turning my veins a sickly, bruised black. The poison surged straight to my core, slamming a steel door over my wolf's broken consciousness.

Any lingering instinct to shift vanished. My body's natural healing shut down completely. I was trapped—paralyzed in raw, human weakness, burning from the inside out while my daughter starved for space.

"Pick her up," Carly told Derek, dusting her palms off with a satisfied smirk. "Let's go."

Derek reached down, grabbed me roughly by the collar of my heavy coat, and dragged me off the floor. I couldn't walk. My bound legs dragged uselessly behind me as he hauled me through the door and out into the biting wind.

He threw open the back door of his crew-cab truck and shoved me onto the floorboards behind the front seats. My head slammed against the metal bracket of the center console, making my vision swim with dark spots.

"Derek... please," I gasped against the rubber floor mat, my fingers twitching toward his jeans. "The valley clinic... it's twenty minutes east. Please."

Derek slammed the truck door shut in my face.

Through the tinted glass, I saw him jog around to the driver's side while Carly slid into the heated front passenger seat, adjusting the rearview mirror with a laugh.

The engine roared to life.

The truck lurched forward, tires spinning on the packed snow. I pulled my face up toward the window, looking out through the frost.

We reached the main mountain road. To the right was the highway down toward the valley, toward the pack hospital and the healers.

Derek turned the steering wheel hard to the left.

The headlights cut into the dark, climbing up the switchbacks, heading deeper into the frozen wilderness, away from civilization, away from safety, and entirely out of reach.

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