My stepmother is pregnant with my mate's child

The air left my lungs in a sickening, desperate cough. His words—"If it dies then let it be!"—were not just a threat; they were the absolute, final destruction of every illusion I had ever held about our bond.

He wasn't just my mate; he was my executioner, willing to sacrifice our child for Lyra’s poisonous lie.

Isaac’s wolfish snarl was inches from my face, his gold eyes burning with homicidal rage, convinced he was a protector of innocence, not a destroyer. His claws flexed, ready to tear into my neck.

But the fear that had momentarily paralyzed me evaporated. It was replaced by something cold, ancient, and terrifying.

A sound, piercing and resonant, erupted from my throat. It wasn't human.

The pain in my head, the pressure on my throat, and the bleeding that had started down my legs, fueled a raw shift I had never controlled before.

The transformation was physical and immediate. Isaac, his monstrous half-shifted body poised to kill, froze as if struck by lightning.

“Release. Me.”

The words left my lips, yet they were not my voice. They were deep, layered, and resonated through the floorboards. It was the Alpha’s command, a power that bypassed his mind and went straight to the survival instinct of his wolf.

Isaac’s powerful hands fell away from my neck as if they’d been burned. He stumbled back, his heavy wolf legs useless, scrambling to put distance between us.

He shifted back to his human form. He stared at my face dyed red in blood. My forehead was torn open, neck got several strips of his nails and the blood was sipping beneath my skirt.

A moment of hesitation flickered through his face, his eyes down with guilt and regret. He took a step closer to me.

"Elara..." He whispered, "I didn't mean to hurt you. My wolf... It lost its mind. You shouldn't have hurt Lyra."

My wolf roared in anger before it finally lost its strength, forcing me to shift back to my human form. I fell off the floor, every inch of my energy was used up in my last attempt of survival.

I kept lying on the floor, my body trembling in pain. Isaac leaned closer, just enough to pull me up. He held my hands in his. But, before he could pull me up, Lyra's voice, laced with pain, grabbed his attention.

"Isaac... I can't feel my son. Could it be that it got traumatized by Elara's violence?"

Violence?

A desperate move to protect my baby was violence in their eyes while killing my four babies and almost the fifth one, was a fair deal in their sick game of power.

As soon as the words left Lyra's lips, Isaac grip over my hands loosened. He stood up and crossed my body, in a rush to reach by her side.

He quickly grabbed her up in his arms.

"I'll take you to the pack's infirmary, Lyra. Don't worry, I'll not let anything happen to your child."

And the next moment, the sound of door slamming aggressively echoed through the hall.

He had gone.

Leaving me bleed to death!

This time, he didn't even pretend to care.

I lay there, trembling on the cold marble floor.The trembling wasn't just physical pain; it was the aftershock of my wolf’s desperate, panicked retreat after it had used its last shred of power.

But with the energy gone, the paralysis lifted. But, this was not a moment for pleading, or for guilt, or even for vengeance. It was a moment for survival.

My child.

The name, the promise, the fragile, tenacious life within me, was the only thing that mattered.

I pushed my elbow against the marble and tried to move. A white-hot spike shot through my core, stealing a choked gasp. I couldn't afford to be weak. I had to get out.

The journey to the Pack's infirmary was a complete blur, and finally blank after finally managing to reach the door of it.

***

One weeks later, I opened my eyes only to hear a cold mechanical voice from the old healer treating me.

"I'm sorry, Miss Elara. We could not save your child." She said, "The damage was too much to be recovered."

The world didn't go silent; it shattered. It wasn't the dramatic, cinematic grief I had rehearsed in my head—the weeping, the screaming, the bargaining. It was far worse.

It was a cold, absolute vacuum. The pain of the physical trauma—the gash on my head, the bruises blooming across my ribs—vanished, completely subsumed by an emptiness so profound it felt like my very soul had been ripped out.

Just then my phone rang. It was Isaac.

The first thing he said after I picked up the call was where I have been for a week or how was I after he left me to bleed.

"Elara, tonight is Lyra's baby shower event. Arrive at Pack's banquet hall by 7:00 PM." He said, his voice ever so commanding.

I clenched the phone in my hands so tightly that it screen broke and blood gushed out of my fingers.

But, then a message popped up on its shattered screen. It was Elder Victor.

"Elara, your mate bond with Isaac Wilson is successfully terminated."

"The elders have investigated through the case you submitted against Isaac and they found him guilty."

"One more thing, while cleaning the Committee building, Elder Emily found your father's will. He had left everything for you, the pack, the Alpha's position. It's all yours. When are you planning to claim what's yours?"

A cold, mirthless smile filled with vengeance spread through my lips as I took the phone close to my ears. Isaac was still on line, waiting for my response.

"Don't worry, I won't be late." I replied, my voice devoid of any emotions, "I have planned a beautiful gift for you."

After hanging up, I texted Elder Victor.

"Tonight. Please wrap everything up in a box and deliver them at Pack's Banquet hall sharp at 9:00 PM."