Rejected Mate's Final Stand

I awoke to the sound of Zora's faint, tearful pleas: "Daddy, please... don't make me get another shot..."

I sat up in shock, my heart jolting at the sight before me. The pack healer was holding Zora's delicate arm, drawing blood, the dark red fluid stark against the sterile backdrop.

"Stop!" I shouted, rushing forward, only to be firmly held back by a Delta warrior.

Nearby, Alpha Jaxon stood impassively, while Alayah buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing. The healer, adjusting his glasses, explained, "The young master has acute leukemia and requires a bone marrow transplant. His half-sister is the best donor we have."

Even though Pierce's sudden illness was unrelated to us, Alpha Jaxon didn't hesitate to say, "Let's proceed with the bone marrow transplant surgery as soon as possible."

I trembled with fury at his words. "Alpha Jaxon, have you lost your mind? Zora is only seven years old!"

He gave me a look that made me feel insignificant, his alpha aura pressing down on me like a weight.

"Daddy..." Zora reached out weakly, the needle marks glaring on her pale skin. "I'll be good... Please, stop taking my blood..."

Alpha Jaxon frowned, avoiding her touch, then turned to the healer. "Once the match is confirmed, proceed with the surgery using the top anesthetist," he instructed. Then, chillingly, he added, "For the donor, use the minimum dose of pain relief. Zora's health has always been robust; there shouldn't be any complications."

I was dumbfounded by his heartlessness. To ensure I wouldn't interfere, Alpha Jaxon ordered that I be locked in the pack's basement, forbidding me from leaving the room.

Half a month later, Pierce's surgery was successfully completed. Yet, Zora was left in the basement like a discarded item, her body exploited by Alpha Jaxon. Her arms were covered in needle marks and bruises, and in just two weeks, she had lost around 22 pounds.

She felt weightless in my arms, as fragile as paper. "Mommy, don't... don't worry, I'm okay," Zora whispered, pale but resolutely trying to comfort me despite her pain.

She weakly raised her hand to wipe away my tears and gazed at the small window in the basement.

Outside, fireworks crackled, and laughter from the celebration filled the air. Gently, I laid Zora on the damp, filthy mattress and stood, trembling, peering through the window.

I watched a ribbon float to the ground. Beyond the basement, in the garden of the Silver Fang Pack estate, stood a crowd of guests celebrating Pierce's successful surgery.

"Alpha... today is Miss Zora's birthday. Didn't you promise to spend it with her? How did something so important slip your mind?" Savannah, the pack's housekeeper, hesitantly spoke up at the party.

But Alpha Jaxon coldly replied, "The fortune teller said Zora's birth date clashes with Pierce's, causing his leukemia, and for years, they lived poorly with Alayah, which weakened his health."

"Let's not spoil the celebration with negativity. I'm generous for not sending that girl away. Hasn't she been spoiled enough with good food?"

I felt as though I'd been plunged into an ice cave, my body collapsing backward uncontrollably. At that moment, Zora cried out feebly, her body convulsing as she vomited blood.

"Mommy... I... I hurt," Zora whimpered, sending a cold sweat down my spine. I dashed to the door, pressing the call button frantically.

Alpha Jaxon clearly heard the commotion but continued to ignore it, happily cutting cake with Alayah and Pierce, his face radiating joy.

"Help... someone, please help my daughter!" I cried, pounding on the door, waiting desperately until hurried footsteps finally approached.

Nylah, the maid, quickly unlocked the door, looking anxious as she tried to reason with me. "Luna Clara, the Alpha said no disruptions during the party. Please... don't cause trouble, or we'll all be in hot water."

Hearing the uproar, Alpha Jaxon approached the doorway, his alpha aura flaring. "Clara, can you stop? You're constantly getting on my nerves."

"I only planned to confine you for half a month; apparently, my penalty wasn't harsh enough."

He reprimanded me, intending to scold Zora as well, but stopped abruptly upon seeing her, her face bloodied, curled up on the bed, convulsing uncontrollably.

His pupils contracted violently, his face contorting with fear. For a moment, I thought I saw something in his eyes—hesitation, perhaps even regret. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cold, detached expression I had come to know too well.