Rejected Mate, Hidden Alpha Blood

An hour later, as I was wheeled down the sterile corridors of the pack’s healing center toward the operating room, I heard a voice call my name. "Kylie?"

Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, I turned my head weakly to see Liv standing there, her hand resting on her swollen belly. Not far behind her, Bennett was approaching with a stack of papers clutched in his hands—rejection papers, no doubt.

Liv turned to him quickly, her voice trembling with feigned distress. "Sweetheart, I suddenly feel so unwell!"

Bennett’s face immediately shifted to concern, his Beta instincts kicking in. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with worry. Without hesitation, he scooped her up into his arms, ignoring the stares of the other pack members in the corridor, and rushed her toward the emergency wing.

I watched in silent agony, my heart shattering as the man who had once vowed to love and protect me forever carried his pregnant mistress away, leaving me alone, bleeding and broken, to face the cold, sterile operating room.

The healer attending to me glanced at me with pity. "Have you contacted anyone from your family?" she asked urgently.

I shook my head weakly. I couldn’t bear to call Bennett. I couldn’t stomach the thought of seeing him after what he’d done. Instead, I gave her my father’s number—Alpha Robert Reed of the Silver Moon Pack.

As the anesthesia took hold, I slipped into unconsciousness, the world fading to black. When I awoke, I found myself in a private room within the healing center. My parents were at my side, their presence a small comfort in the storm of my grief.

"Kylie, you’re awake!" My mother, Luna Esme, reached for my hand, her eyes swollen and red from crying. My father, Alpha Robert, stood beside her, his face etched with worry and sorrow.

"How are you feeling now?" he asked, his voice soft but strained.

"What happened? Where’s Bennett?" I croaked, my throat dry and raw.

But I didn’t wait for their answers. My hand instinctively moved to my abdomen, now frighteningly flat. "Where’s the baby? Mom, Dad, where is the baby?"

My father’s voice cracked as he replied, "The pup... didn’t survive."

A wave of agony washed over me, and I broke down, my tears soaking the pillow beneath me. My child was gone—taken from me before I could even hold them. And it was Bennett’s betrayal that had caused it.

My mother and father held my hands tightly, their grief mirroring mine. "You can still have pups in the future," my mother whispered, though her voice was heavy with sorrow. "We’re just thankful you’re alive."

I learned later that I had lost so much blood during the procedure that I had been unconscious for three days and nights. My parents had been by my side the entire time, their worry and anger palpable.

When they had learned the full extent of what had happened, my father had wanted to confront Bennett immediately, to make him pay for what he’d done. But I stopped him.

That would have been too easy for him.

No, I swore to myself that I would seek justice for my child. I would make Bennett and Liv pay for what they had done. I would make sure they ended up with nothing—no pack, no status, no future. And I would do it on my terms.