Rejected While Carrying His Heir

The autumn wind bit at my cheeks, but I barely felt the chill. My hand rested protectively over the curve of my abdomen, a warm, solid reminder of the life growing inside me. Five months. The heir to the Ironclaw Pack. For ten years, I had stood beside Alpha Waylen, pouring my family’s wealth and my soul into this territory. I had sold my ancestral lands to fortify his borders, silencing my own doubts to amplify his roar. Now, finally, we were bringing a new life into the world we had built.

"Luna Arabella, we should head back," Nova said, her hand resting on the hilt of her blade. My best friend’s golden eyes scanned the tree line, her warrior instincts twitching. "The border patrol reported a scent earlier. It’s faint, but I don't like it."

"Just a few more minutes, Nova," I smiled, rubbing the swell of my belly. " The pup likes the fresh air."

Snap.

The sound wasn't a twig breaking under a boot; it was the cracking of bone. Before Nova could shout a command, the forest exploded. Shadows detached themselves from the trees—Rogues. They smelled of rotting meat and desperation, their eyes wild with madness.

"Protect the Luna!" Nova screamed, shifting mid-air into her brown wolf.

Chaos erupted. My small escort was instantly overwhelmed by the sheer number of them. A snarl ripped through the air as a rogue lunged at me. I stumbled back, my hands instinctively covering my stomach. I couldn't shift. Shifting now, with the pup so large, could kill us both. I was vulnerable in my human skin, a fragile thing in a world of claws and teeth.

"Waylen!" I screamed through the mind-link, the panic searing through our bond. "Ambush! The North Ridge!"

I dodged a slashing claw, feeling the wind of the strike against my neck. Nova was fighting two at once, her muzzle stained crimson, unable to reach me. I was cornered against an ancient oak, three rogues circling me, drool dripping from their jowls. They knew who I was. They wanted the Alpha’s heir.

Then, the earth shook. A thunderous roar tore through the clearing. Waylen.

My heart leaped with relief. My mate was here. He burst through the brush, his massive black wolf tearing the throat out of the nearest rogue. The Alpha aura rolled off him in suffocating waves, bringing the attackers to a momentary halt.

"Waylen!" I cried out, reaching for him. I was safe. He would never let anything happen to us.

But then, a high-pitched scream pierced the air.

"Waylen! Help me!"

It was Helena. Why was she here? She was standing near the edge of the skirmish, clutching her ankle, her face a mask of terrified fragility. There was no rogue near her—not within twenty feet—yet she wailed as if death were breathing down her neck.

Time seemed to slow. Waylen’s massive wolf froze. He looked at me—encircled by three snarling beasts, my hands shielding our unborn child. Then he looked at Helena, who was weeping on the grass.

The bond between us pulled taut, vibrating with his indecision. *Please,* I begged silently. *Our baby.*

He turned away.

The betrayal hit me harder than any physical blow. Alpha Waylen, my fated mate, turned his back on his pregnant Luna to rush to the side of his mistress.

The rogues saw his choice. They saw I was abandoned. With a gleeful howl, the largest one lunged. I tried to twist away, but I was too slow. A heavy boot slammed into my abdomen with the force of a battering ram.

Pain.

White-hot, blinding agony exploded in my core. It wasn't just flesh bruising; it was a deep, tearing sensation that felt like my soul was being ripped in half. I collapsed to the forest floor, curling around my stomach, gasping for air that wouldn't come. The sounds of battle faded into a dull roar. The last thing I saw before the darkness took me was Waylen carrying Helena in his arms, running away from the battlefield, running away from me.

***

The smell of antiseptic woke me. It was sharp, chemical, and cold—so different from the scent of pine and blood that lingered in my memory.

I blinked, the harsh fluorescent lights of the pack hospital stinging my eyes. Memory rushed back like a tidal wave. The ambush. The choice. The kick.

"No," I whispered, my voice a cracked ruin. My hands flew to my stomach.

Flat.

The mound was gone. The heavy, comforting weight of life was replaced by thick bandages and a hollow, aching emptiness.

"No, no, no..." A guttural sound tore from my throat, half-sob, half-scream. I clawed at the sheets, trying to sit up, but my body felt like lead.

I needed comfort. I needed strength. I reached inward, searching for the one presence that had never left me since I was sixteen. *Sia? Sia, please tell me I’m dreaming. Tell me the pup is safe.*

Silence.

Usually, Sia’s presence was a warm hum in the back of my mind, a source of silver light and power. Now, there was nothing. It was a void so deep and dark it terrified me more than the rogues had. It was the silence of a grave.

I pushed harder, slamming my consciousness against the wall of my own mind. *Sia! Answer me!*

Nothing. Not a whimper. Not a growl. My wolf had retreated so deep into the recesses of my soul, buried under the crushing weight of our grief, that she might as well have died with the child.

I lay back against the pillows, staring at the white ceiling, tears streaming silently into my ears. I was the Luna of the Ironclaw Pack. I had given everything for this family. And now, I was empty. No baby. No wolf. And, I realized with a cold, settling dread, no mate. He had made his choice in the woods, and it wasn't me.