The Monster Alpha Who Became My Second Chance

Rosalie

They let me out after two weeks. It was originally supposed to take a full month, but somehow Alpha Cedric intervened and shortened it. I didn’t need anyone to tell me. I already knew it was him.

The head therapist described my discharge as “significant improvement.” To me, it felt less like recovery and more like influence—his influence pulling strings I couldn’t see.

When I finally stepped outside the rehabilitation center, the winter air hit my skin in a way that felt almost unfamiliar. It was as if I had been buried for too long and was only now being dragged back into the world.

Alpha Cedric was waiting by the car. He looked exhausted, but not like someone grieving. More like a man drained by inconvenience.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Just two people who once called each other mates, now standing as strangers tied together by something that felt more like restraint than bond.

“I’ll drive,” he said at last.

I didn’t argue. I simply got into the passenger seat. Inside the car, the silence pressed down heavily, thick enough to suffocate. Every so often, I felt his eyes flick toward me, as if he was silently judging whether I was “normal” again.

After a while, he broke the silence.

“I’m sorry about what happened before,” he said, keeping his gaze fixed on the road. “Everything was… chaotic.”

Chaotic. That was what he reduced our son’s death to.

My fingers tightened around the torn half of the teddy bear hidden inside my coat pocket.

“We can bring Julian home now,” he added after a moment. “If he’s really in Ashmoon Pack.”

My head turned slowly toward him. “But Julian is—”

The car suddenly chimed, interrupting my words.

Incoming call: Vivian.

He answered without hesitation, and the call immediately played through the speakers.

“Alpha, please!” Vivian’s voice came through, broken and panicked. “Aiden collapsed again! I don’t know what to do!”

The shift in Cedric was instant. His entire expression changed.

“Calm down, Alli,” he said, his tone softening. “I’m coming. I’ll be there soon.”

Without asking me, he made a sharp turn. The car changed direction immediately, heading toward the hospital. Of course it did.

When we arrived, Vivian was already outside the emergency entrance, crying into her hands. The moment she spotted us, she rushed forward.

But instead of going to Cedric, she came straight to me.

“Where is Julian?” she demanded, grabbing my arms tightly. “Tell me—where is he?”

I stared at her, confused by her intensity.

“Please, calm down, Alli,” Alpha Cedric said, stepping between us. He placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her gently against him. She collapsed into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

After a moment, she pulled back, eyes swollen and red.

“Aiden needs a bone marrow transplant,” she said shakily. “He has rare Alpha blood. The doctors said finding a match won’t be easy.”

Cedric stiffened immediately. “I’ll get tested.”

And he did. We were brought into a private room where doctors collected his sample first, then Vivian’s. Neither of them matched.

When the doctor returned shaking his head, Vivian completely broke down.

“We need Julian!” she cried desperately.

Her hands clung to Cedric’s shirt.

“He’s his brother! They’re half-siblings—he has to match!”

My ears rang at her words.

Half-siblings.

I froze. “What did you just say?” I almost convinced myself I had misheard.

Vivian’s breathing turned uneven. “Years ago… the night before your wedding… I was with him.”

The room seemed to tighten around me.

“That’s when Aiden was conceived,” she continued, voice trembling but steady. “He’s your husband’s son too, Alpha.”

Everything tilted slightly. The night before my wedding. I remembered it clearly—how Cedric had told me he was dealing with pack matters. How I waited, nervous and excited, believing in a future that wasn’t what I thought it was.

And all the while, he had been with her.

Cedric grabbed Vivian’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you tell me Aiden was my son sooner?”

He didn’t look angry. He looked unsettled. Worried.

“Because you were married!” Vivian cried. “You had a son with Rosalie. I couldn’t destroy that!”

Destroy that.

My chest felt painfully empty.

Then Vivian suddenly turned to me, desperation flashing in her eyes. “Your son and mine are half-brothers! Julian’s marrow will match Aiden! Bring him here, Rosalie—please!”

I looked at her properly this time. Really looked.

The woman who lied about the accident. The woman who watched me get dragged into rehab. The one who took my son’s belongings. The one who slept with my mate before our wedding. The one who caused enough chaos that Cedric froze my accounts while my son lay dying in a hospital bed.

And something inside me shifted. I didn’t feel pity. I didn’t feel anger anymore either. Just emptiness so deep it felt final.

“I’m not going to lie anymore,” I said quietly. “Julian is dead.”

The words were soft, but they landed heavily.

Vivian’s face twisted instantly.

“Don’t you dare lie!” she screamed. “You just don’t want to help! You want my son to die because he threatens your child’s place as heir! Because Aiden is older! Because he’s also Cedric’s son!”

Cedric’s expression darkened.

“Rosalie, stop this,” he said coldly. “You’re hiding Julian because you don’t want to save Aiden. That’s how selfish you are.”

Selfish. The word echoed inside my head. I almost wished it were true—at least then I wouldn’t feel this hollow.

“I watched my son die,” I said faintly. “I begged you for help.”

“Enough,” Cedric snapped. “Enough of your lies.”

**

When Aiden’s condition worsened again, Cedric stopped arguing with me entirely.

He stepped out into the corridor and began making calls. I watched him through the glass—his voice sharp, commanding, reaching out to other Alphas, other packs, territories far beyond Winterfang.

Within hours, he secured a compatible donor.

Hours.

It took him hours to do what he never even attempted for Julian. For our son.

The irony made my throat tighten.

Aiden was rushed into surgery. Vivian stayed glued to Cedric’s side the entire time.

I stood alone in the hallway. No one spoke to me. No one even looked at me.

And in that silence, I made a promise to myself. Cedric would never get closure for Julian. Not as long as he refused to accept the truth.

I would make sure of it.

I was still standing there when footsteps approached.

“Rosalie.”

I turned. Celine stood behind me, her expression cautious, almost hesitant.

“How are you holding up?” she asked gently.

I didn’t answer. There was no answer that made sense anymore.

She hesitated, as if deciding whether to continue.

“There’s something I should have given you earlier,” she said softly.

“Just say it,” I replied.

She exhaled shakily and handed me a folded document. “I tried to give this before… but after Julian…”

Her voice broke. “I didn’t want to add more pain.”

My hands trembled as I opened it. A medical report. From the night of the accident.

Head trauma. Rib fractures. Internal bleeding. My eyes moved down the page.

Then I saw it.

Miscarriage. Eight weeks.

The world went still.

I had been pregnant. I hadn’t even known.

That night, I hadn’t just lost Julian. I had lost another child I never even got the chance to meet.

Celine’s voice felt far away. “I’m so sorry.”

But I couldn’t cry. Nothing came out anymore. It felt like grief had gone past pain and settled into something quiet and permanent.

How had everything become this?

A mate who betrayed me. A man who believed another woman over me. A child I lost. Another I never knew existed. A life I no longer recognized as mine.

I folded the paper carefully. My hands didn’t shake anymore. They were too steady.

Without looking away, I took out my phone.

Celine frowned. “Rosalie?”

I dialed a number I hadn’t used in years.

“My office,” a calm voice answered.

“This is Rosalie Ashbourne,” I said evenly. “I want my divorce processed.”

A pause. “From Alpha Cedric?”

“Yes.”

“Are you certain?”

I looked through the glass wall. Cedric stood with Vivian, holding her hand as they waited for news about Aiden.

Then I thought of Julian. Of the child I would never hear laugh again. Of the heartbeat I never got to know.

“I’m divorcing Alpha Cedric,” I repeated.