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The Alpha Who Threw Me Away for a Fake Pregnancy Novel Cover

The Alpha Who Threw Me Away for a Fake Pregnancy

After her Alpha mate abandons her for a mistress claiming a false pregnancy, a rejected werewolf is forced to endure the agony of a broken bond. Cast out from her pack, she must find the strength to rebuild her life from the ruins of betrayal. As the mistress's web of lies starts to unravel, the Alpha is forced to confront his catastrophic errors. This story explores her path to self-worth and the devastating consequences of his misplaced trust.
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Chapter 2

Caleb slammed a thick stack of medical files onto the center of the long mahogany table. The sudden noise echoed off the stone walls of the council room.

"Five years, Aria," Caleb announced, his voice booming over the silent elders. "Five years of a barren womb."

I stood at the opposite end of the table. I kept my chin raised. "The healers said we needed time."

"The healers lied to protect your feelings." He shoved the folders across the polished wood. They slid and stopped inches from my hands. "Look at the dates. Three different specialists. All concluding the same thing. You are cursed."

Elder Thorne stood up from his chair. "Alpha, you cannot speak to your mate this way in a formal session."

"She carries a blight," Caleb snapped. "A pack cannot survive without an heir."

I didn't touch the folders. I refused to look at the scattered pages detailing my private medical history. My gaze remained fixed on Caleb.

"You investigated me behind my back?" I asked.

"I secured the future of my pack."

"You paraded a pregnant stray onto my front steps," I corrected him. "Now you call me cursed to justify your betrayal."

"Sienna is a blessing." Caleb gestured to the young woman sitting in the plush chair to his right. She clutched her swollen belly, looking down at the floor. "She proved my bloodline is strong."

"She proved you lack honor."

Caleb's jaw tightened. He reached inside his combat jacket. He withdrew a rolled parchment scroll, sealed with black wax. He broke the seal with his thumb and unrolled it flat on the table.

"A severance decree," I noted. My voice lacked any tremor. I forced it to remain entirely flat.

"It dissolves the mate bond," Caleb explained. "It strips you of the Luna title."

Chaos erupted around the table.

"Madness!" Elder Miller yelled, hitting his fist against the armrest. "You cannot sever a bond without just cause!"

"Failure to produce an heir is cause enough," Caleb countered. He tapped the bottom of the parchment. "Sign your name, Aria. The pack needs a true mother."

I stared at the blank line. "And then what? You banish me to the wastelands?"

"I am not cruel," Caleb replied. He stepped away from the head of the table and walked toward me.

He stopped just a foot away. The sickeningly sweet scent of vanilla and crushed berries clung to his skin. It was Sienna's scent. It invaded my nostrils, coating my throat like syrup.

My inner wolf snarled in my mental landscape. She thrashed against her cage, clawing at my ribs. The urge to rip his throat out burned through my veins.

"You can stay in the territory," Caleb offered.

"Under what condition?" I asked.

"As an Omega."

The council room plunged into a dead silence.

"Excuse me?" I whispered.

"Sienna needs an experienced hand to guide her through the pregnancy," Caleb said. "You know the pack customs. You know the dietary needs. You will serve her."

Elder Thorne gasped. "You would make your Luna a maid to a stray?"

"She is no longer my Luna," Caleb declared. "She is a broken vessel. She should be grateful I am allowing her to stay."

"An Omega servant," I repeated, tasting the foulness of the words. "You want me to sleep in the servant's quarters."

"The southern wing is for the baby," Caleb said. "The basement rooms are perfectly adequate for your new station."

"My blood is older than this pack," I reminded him. "I do not scrub floors."

"You are a barren wife who failed her primary duty," he shot back. "You will scrub floors if I command it."

"You want me to wash the clothes of the woman who stole my husband?" I asked.

"I want you to show loyalty to the pack," Caleb corrected. "Serving the mother of the next Alpha is an honor."

A bitter laugh escaped my throat. "You are truly insane."

Sienna shifted in her seat. She looked up, tears pooling in her wide eyes. "I can ask the kitchen to save you some extra food, Aria," Sienna offered softly. "Since you'll be working so hard for us. I really need your help."

I cut my eyes to her. "Keep your pity. You'll need it when he gets bored of you."

"Do not speak to her that way," Caleb demanded.

"Make me stop."

"Alpha, the council must vote on a demotion of this magnitude," Miller insisted.

"There is no vote," Caleb roared. "My word is absolute."

"My dowry funded your army," I reminded him. "My alliances kept the eastern packs from slaughtering us when you took power."

"Past deeds do not breed future Alphas." Caleb pushed a silver fountain pen across the table. "Sign it. Keep a roof over your head. Refuse, and I strip you of your wolf and banish you by sunset."

I looked down at the silver pen. It was a gift from my father on my wedding day. Caleb was using my own family's heirloom to erase me.

A rough, invisible hand seized my heart. It squeezed until my chest ached. Blood roared in my ears. A frantic, heavy rhythm drowned out the murmurs of the elders.

Five years of loyalty. Five years of bleeding for this pack. Reduced to a signature.

"Caleb, she hates me," Sienna whimpered from her chair. "Maybe I should leave. I don't want to cause trouble."

"You aren't going anywhere," Caleb told her, his tone softening instantly. He turned his harsh glare back to me. "Sign the paper, Aria. Stop making a scene."

I picked up the pen. The metal felt ice-cold against my skin.

"If I sign this," I said, "I am no longer your mate. I owe you nothing."

"You will owe me your obedience as an Omega," he corrected.

"I will owe you nothing," I repeated, my voice dropping to a deadly whisper.

"Just sign it," Caleb ordered.

I gripped the pen tighter. My knuckles turned white.

I lowered the nib toward the thick parchment. The ink pooled at the tip, ready to stain the page.

Just as the metal touched the paper, a deafening crash shook the room.

The heavy oak doors of the council chamber violently burst open. Two pack guards flew backward through the entrance. They hit the stone floor with a sickening crunch, their armor dented and torn.

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