My Alpha Risked Our Pup for His Mistress

The Annual Moon Festival arrived with a flurry of colors and excitement. Lanterns hung from tree branches, casting golden light across the pack grounds. Tables laden with food stretched across the clearing, and pack members dressed in their finest clothes. Under different circumstances, I would have loved this night—the one time when rank mattered less than celebration.

I stood at the edge of the gathering, my hand pressed against my stomach. The small bump was barely visible now, but I felt our pup's presence with every heartbeat.

"You look pale, Luna." Elena appeared at my side, her elderly eyes filled with concern. "Perhaps you should rest."

"I'm fine," I lied, though my wolf remained worryingly silent within me.

"Alpha Cole requests your presence at the main stage," a young Delta announced, his expression carefully neutral.

I made my way through the crowd, feeling dozens of eyes track my movement. Whispers followed me—about my increasing isolation, about Sloan's growing influence, about whether I was still truly Luna.

Cole stood on the raised platform, his arm around Sloan's waist. She wore a stunning red dress that hugged every curve, while I'd chosen a simple blue gown that would hide my condition.

"My pack," Cole's voice boomed across the gathering. "Tonight we celebrate not just the moon, but our strength!"

The crowd cheered, but I noticed the elders exchanging worried glances.

"To demonstrate our resilience," Sloan continued seamlessly, as if they'd rehearsed this moment, "we've arranged a special exhibition."

My blood ran cold as she turned to me, her smile sharp as a blade.

"Our Luna will demonstrate her... unique abilities."

"I can't," I whispered urgently to Cole as Sloan beckoned me forward. "You know I'm not well."

"We've discussed this," Cole hissed through clenched teeth. "This is non-negotiable."

"I'm carrying your pup," I pleaded, clutching his arm. "Please."

Something flickered in his eyes—doubt, perhaps—but Sloan was already announcing my participation to the eager crowd.

"Private matters can wait," he said coldly, pulling away from my touch. "My authority won't be questioned."

He led me to the center of the stage where a table had been set up with various items—including a small vial labeled with the skull symbol of Wolfsbane.

"Traditionally, our Luna would demonstrate her healing abilities," Sloan announced, her voice carrying across the hushed crowd. "Tonight, we'll show something even more impressive—her resilience to toxins!"

"No," I gasped, backing away. "Cole, I can't—not with the pup—"

His eyes hardened. "You will participate," he commanded, the Alpha tone hitting me like a physical blow. "Or I'll consider it a direct challenge to my authority."

The crowd watched in tense silence as Sloan uncorked the vial.

"Just a small amount on your skin," she said sweetly, holding it toward me. "To show how quickly you'll heal."

I looked to the crowd, searching for sympathetic faces—finding only Elena's horrified expression and Marcus's uncomfortable avertance.

"Don't do this," I begged Cole one last time.

He simply stared back, his expression cold and unfamiliar.

Sloan's smile widened as she dabbed the Wolfsbane on my wrist. "Watch carefully, everyone!"

Normally, my skin would seal instantly around such a small amount. But instead, I felt a burning sensation that spread rapidly up my arm.

"Something's wrong," I gasped, clutching my wrist as the pain intensified.

The crowd murmured in confusion as Sloan's smile faltered slightly.

"Why isn't she healing?" someone called out.

The burning became searing agony that shot through my veins like liquid fire. I doubled over, a scream tearing from my throat as darkness edged my vision.

"The pup!" I cried out, clutching my stomach. "Cole, the pup!"

But he stood frozen, his face a mask of shock and anger as I collapsed to my knees on the stage.

The last thing I saw before consciousness fled was Sloan's expression—not concern, but calculation.

---

I woke to sterile white walls and the antiseptic smell of the pack hospital. For one blissful moment, I thought perhaps it had all been a nightmare.

Then the hollow ache in my abdomen registered, and I knew.

"No," I whispered, my hand flying to my stomach. "No, please, no."

The door opened, and Cole strode in—not rushing to my bedside in concern, but stalking in like a thunderstorm.

"Explain yourself," he demanded, his voice cold with fury.

"I lost our pup," I choked out, tears streaming down my face.

"You mean you killed my heir," he spat. "In front of the entire pack."

I stared at him in disbelief. "How can you say that? You forced me to participate!"

"Sloan warned me this might happen," he continued as if I hadn't spoken. "She said your... condition... might be affecting your stability."

"My condition?" I echoed weakly.

"Your weakness," he clarified, his eyes flashing gold with anger. "She's been trying to help me see it for weeks."

The mate bond between us—once warm and vibrant—felt like a threadbare rope about to snap.

"You've been lying to me," he accused, pacing the small room. "Hiding your... defect."

I closed my eyes, too exhausted for his cruelty. "I loved you," I whispered.

Something shifted in his expression—a flicker of doubt, perhaps—but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

"Get some rest," he said finally, turning toward the door. "We'll discuss your future in the pack tomorrow."

As he left without looking back, I felt the last thread of our bond snap completely, leaving nothing but emptiness where love had once lived.