Protecting Son from Alpha's Secret

I couldn't sleep. The financial reports I'd printed sat locked in my bedroom safe, but the numbers burned behind my eyelids every time I closed them. Millions. Years of systematic theft, dressed up in consulting fees and discretionary spending I'd never authorized.

Around two in the morning, I heard movement from Colter's room.

I found him sitting on his bed, holding a bag of frozen peas against his shoulder—a fresh bruise blooming dark purple across his skin. The sight made my chest constrict.

"Sweetheart." I sat beside him carefully, as if sudden movement might shatter something fragile between us. "What happened?"

"Training." His voice was flat, practiced. "It's nothing."

"Colter." I touched his free hand gently. "Please. Talk to me."

For a long moment, he stared at the frozen peas, his jaw working. Then something broke—some dam he'd been holding for far too long.

"Zev says things." The words came out raw, almost whispered. "During training, when the instructors aren't watching. He says his dad is the Alpha, and that I'm a mistake. That I shouldn't even be here."

My breath stopped. "His dad?"

Colter's eyes met mine, and they were too old, too knowing. "He knows, Mom. Zev knows that Alpha Grant is his father. He's always known."

The room tilted. I gripped the edge of his mattress, my knuckles white. "How long?"

"Since the beginning." His voice cracked. "I didn't tell you because—because I didn't want to break your heart. You always looked so sad when Dad left on his trips, and I thought if you knew there was another son, one he actually wanted..." He trailed off, tears sliding down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Mom. I should have told you."

I pulled him against me, careful of his bruises, my own tears hot and silent. My son—my brave, observant boy—had been carrying this alone, protecting me while I'd been too blind to see.

"You have nothing to apologize for," I whispered fiercely. "Nothing. Do you hear me?"

He nodded against my shoulder, and we sat there in the dark, two people who'd been betrayed by the same man learning they weren't alone anymore.

***

Beta Kieran's office was tucked in the administrative wing, a space that smelled of coffee and pack documents. I'd requested the meeting through official channels, citing "treasury clarification," and his secretary had looked vaguely surprised that the Luna was involving herself in financial matters.

Kieran rose when I entered, his expression professionally neutral. He was a solid man in his forties, loyal to Grant for over a decade. This was a risk.

"Luna Strauss." He gestured to the chair across from his desk. "What can I help you with?"

I set the folder on his desk without preamble. "I need you to look at these."

He opened it, his eyes scanning the first page of financial records. His expression didn't change, but his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on the paper.

"These are treasury documents," he said carefully. "How did you—"

"I'm still listed as an authorized administrator." My voice was steady. "Look at the consulting fees. The border property payments. Then look at the withdrawal dates from my personal inheritance trust."

Kieran's jaw tightened as he flipped through the pages. Minutes passed in silence broken only by rustling paper. When he finally looked up, something dark and troubled flickered across his face.

"Luna, I don't know what you're implying—"

"I'm not implying anything." I leaned forward. "I'm showing you evidence that someone has been systematically draining pack resources. Look at the winter supply budget projection on page twelve. We're short by nearly forty percent."

His attention snapped to that page. I watched the color drain from his face as he processed the numbers.

"The pack could face serious shortages," I continued quietly. "Especially if we have a harsh winter. Warriors' families could go hungry because funds that should have secured supplies have been redirected to... consulting services."

Kieran set the folder down slowly, his hands flat on the desk. The Beta wolf in him—the one sworn to protect pack welfare—was warring with his loyalty to Grant. I could see it in the tension of his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes.

"What are you asking me to do?" His voice was carefully controlled.

"Help me secure the physical property deeds for that border residence. The one receiving all those consulting payments." I held his gaze. "I need to know what assets have been transferred out of pack holdings. What belongs to Black Moon, and what's been... reassigned."

"That could be considered investigating the Alpha."

"That's called protecting the pack." My wolf surged beneath my skin, lending strength to my words. "Your duty is to the pack, Beta. Not to any individual wolf, no matter their rank."

Kieran stared at me for a long moment. Then he closed the folder with deliberate care.

"The property office opens at nine," he said quietly. "I'll meet you there."

Relief flooded through me, sharp and dizzying. "Thank you."

He nodded once, but his expression remained troubled. "Luna... be careful. If what you're suggesting is true, the Alpha won't react well to being exposed."

"I know." I rose, gathering the folder. "But my son is being bullied by Grant's secret child while pack resources disappear into a residence I never authorized. Being careful hasn't protected either of us."

As I left his office, my hands were steady, but my heart hammered against my ribs. I'd crossed a line—turned a suspicion into an investigation, recruited an ally against my own mate.

There was no going back now.