My Mate Rejected Our Dying Child

The scream that tore through the garden wasn’t human. It was the sound of a soul fracturing.

"Jonas!"

I didn't think. I didn't breathe. I kicked off my high heels and sprinted across the manicured lawn, the grass cool and slick against my bare feet. Guests gasped and scattered as I shoved past them, knocking champagne flutes from hands, my vision tunneling to the small, convulsing figure on the grass.

The Rogue wolf in the cage was thrashing against the iron bars, its milky eyes wide with madness. Waves of corrupted aura rolled off the beast—a thick, suffocating stench of sulfur and rotting meat. For a normal werewolf, it was unpleasant. For Jonas, with his genetic hypersensitivity, it was poison.

I slid to my knees beside him, the impact jarring my bones.

"Jonas! Baby, look at me!"

He couldn't hear me. His back was arched in a rigid bow, his small heels drumming a frantic rhythm against the earth. Foam, tinged with pink, gathered at the corners of his mouth. His eyes had rolled back, showing only the whites, and his skin was turning a terrifying shade of grey.

"Help!" I screamed, looking around wildly. "Someone help him!"

A shadow fell over us. I looked up, relief flooding my chest. It was Creed. He had crossed the lawn in seconds, his Alpha speed a blur.

"Creed, grab him!" I begged, my hands shaking as I tried to keep Jonas from biting his tongue. "It's the aura. He's going into shock. We need to get him away from the Rogue!"

Creed didn't move toward us.

Instead, he rushed past his seizing son, dropping to his knees beside Alina.

She had slumped gracefully against the side of the cage, one hand clutching her chest, the other covering her eyes. She wasn't seizing. She wasn't foaming. She was whimpering softly.

"Alina!" Creed's voice was thick with panic—a panic he hadn't shown for Jonas. He gathered her into his arms, shushing her. "I've got you. You're safe."

"The wolf..." Alina sobbed, burying her face in his neck. "It snapped at me, Creed! It was so loud! My heart... I think my wolf is scared!"

"Guards!" Creed roared, his Alpha tone vibrating in the air. "Secure the beast! Get the tranquilizers! Don't hurt it—it's just agitated!"

I stared at him, my hands slick with my son's sweat. Jonas let out a choked, gurgling sound, his body going rigid one last time before falling limp.

"Creed!" I shrieked, the sound ripping from my throat raw and bloody. "Your son is dying! Look at him!"

Creed glanced over his shoulder, his expression twisted with annoyance. "Stop screaming, Winter. You're making it worse for Alina. Can't you see she's in distress?"

"Distress?" I choked out, tears finally spilling over. "Jonas isn't breathing right!"

"He's just scared of the big bad wolf," Creed snapped, turning back to stroke Alina's hair. "Give him a minute. Deal with it."

Time stopped. The noise of the party, the growls of the Rogue, the sobbing of the mistress—it all faded into a dull buzz. I looked at the man I had spent five years trying to please. The man I thought was my mate.

He wasn't a father. He wasn't an Alpha. He was a monster.

I didn't ask again. I didn't beg.

Adrenaline, cold and sharp, flooded my veins. I scooped Jonas into my arms. He was five years old, heavy and limp, but he felt weightless to me in that moment. I stood up, my legs trembling but holding.

Beta Marcus stood nearby, watching the scene with wide, horrified eyes. He looked from Creed, who was cooing at Alina, to me holding the unconscious heir.

"Drive," I commanded. It wasn't a request. It was an order, delivered with a voice I didn't recognize—low, deadly, and devoid of fear.

Marcus blinked, his wolf instinctively responding to the authority in my tone. "Yes, Luna."

***

The drive to the Pack Hospital was a blur of red lights and the terrifying sound of Jonas's shallow, rattling breaths. I sat in the back, clutching his hand, pouring every ounce of my own strength into him through our bond, begging his wolf not to give up.

When we burst through the emergency doors, Dr. Aris, the Head Healer, took one look at Jonas and hit the code blue button.

"Aura Shock!" Aris barked as nurses swarmed around us. "Get the stabilizers! Prep the High-Care Suite!"

They tore him from my arms. I watched through the glass of the ICU as they hooked him up to machines that beeped and hissed. Tubes were shoved down his throat. IVs were pierced into his small, pale arms.

Hours later, Dr. Aris stepped out. He looked exhausted, his white coat stained with sweat.

"Luna," he said softly, removing his glasses.

"Tell me," I whispered, wrapping my arms around myself to keep from falling apart.

"It was acute Aura Shock," Aris said gravely. "The exposure to the corrupted Rogue energy triggered a massive autoimmune response. His body is fighting his own wolf."

He hesitated, looking at the clipboard in his hand. "He's stable for now, but... his consciousness has retreated. He's in a coma, Winter. His wolf spirit is fading. If we can't stabilize his connection to his wolf within forty-eight hours..."

He didn't have to finish the sentence. If the wolf died, the boy died.

I looked through the glass at my son, so small in the big white bed. He looked like he was sleeping, but I couldn't feel him. The bond between us was silent.

"Does the Alpha know?" Aris asked gently.

I laughed, a dry, broken sound. "The Alpha is tending to a frightened mistress."

I walked to the window of the suite, pressing my hand against the cold glass. Outside, the moon was rising, full and bright. I didn't pray to the Goddess for Creed's return. I didn't pray for my marriage.

I prayed for strength. Because when Jonas woke up, I was going to burn the Silverclaw Pack to the ground.