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When the Alpha Lost His Human Childhood Sweetheart Novel Cover

When the Alpha Lost His Human Childhood Sweetheart

As the Blackwood Pack’s only human healer, Elara has spent a decade as the secret solace for Alpha heir Slade. After a night of intimacy, she is devastated when Slade tasks her with preparing medicinal gifts for his upcoming marriage alliance with the Thorne Pack. Realizing she was merely a convenience rather than his future mate, Elara contacts her old mentor to reclaim her life in the human world. When she vanishes, the arrogant Alpha realizes his mistake too late.
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Chapter 7

The Blackwood Pack's sacred altar square had never looked so solemn.

The grounds of the grand bonding ceremony were covered in flowers, but all I could smell was their sickeningly sweet stench.

I stood alone in the shadows below the altar, holding the vial of "doctored" energy essence.

The star of the evening, Rosalind, approached me, wearing a gown that seemed woven from moonlight. She carried herself with the full grace of a future Luna.

She stopped in front of me and held up her left hand, deliberately flashing it before my eyes.

On her finger was a massive ring.

It was set with a flawless moonstone.

Ten times larger, ten times purer than the one Slade had destroyed.

"See," Rosalind's voice was soft, for my ears only. "This is the difference, Eloise. Some stones are meant to be crushed. Others are meant for a crown."

I stared at the stone and replied numbly, "Congratulations. It suits you."

Slade walked over, dressed in a sharp ceremonial uniform, a golden wolf head embroidered on his chest.

His gaze passed over me and landed on Rosalind.

"What are you talking to my healer about?"

"It's time. Let's go."

He offered his arm, and Rosalind took it.

They walked toward the altar, looking like the perfect couple.

Just as the High Priest raised the sacred staff, as the union of purebloods was about to be sealed, a deafening explosion tore through the night sky. A floodlight tower at the edge of the square exploded without warning.

"Attack! It's Rogues!"

Someone screamed. Immediately, black-clad rogues swarmed in from all directions, armed with modified firearms and silver knives.

Chaos erupted. The attackers were clearly well-prepared.

A dark metal sphere, its fuse hissing, was thrown with precision toward the high platform.

It exploded in mid-air, releasing a cloud of purple smoke.

It was a bomb filled with wolf venom dust.

The bomb's trajectory was wickedly precise, aimed at the central point between Slade, Rosalind, and me.

Upon impact, the high concentration of wolf venom dust would be enough to instantly corrode our respiratory systems.

There was only a second to react, but that second stretched into an eternity.

Slade moved.

I watched him charge forward, instinctively reaching out my hand, thinking he would grab me first, just as he had in every moment of danger for the past ten years.

This time, he glanced at me, but his hand went past me.

He seized Rosalind by the waist, pulling her into a protective embrace.

To get a faster burst of speed, to push Rosalind further away, to absolute safety...

He used me as a springboard, kicking off my body to propel himself and her to safety while sending me flying into the center of the blast.

The shockwave, thick with purple dust, exploded.

I was thrown backward, my back hitting the cold stone steps of the altar with brutal force.

The purple smoke instantly filled my lungs.

For werewolves, wolf venom is a weakening agent. But for a human, a high concentration of it is a corrosive poison that eats away at the lungs.

Every breath felt like swallowing hot coals. The wolf venom dust invaded my lungs, viciously corroding my insides.

My vision began to blur. Blood poured from my mouth and nose.

In the moments before my vision faded to black, I forced my eyes open one last time, looking toward the high platform.

Through the spreading smoke, I saw Slade carrying an unharmed Rosalind toward the cover behind the altar.

He was anxiously asking if she was frightened.

In a daze, I thought I saw him glance back at me.

But what did it matter? He had sacrificed his "asset," the one he himself had kicked into a cloud of poison.

"Blackwood warriors, take care of these rogues!" Slade roared, unleashing his Alpha command.

The battle raged on, while I lay in a pool of my own blood.

As darkness finally fell, I wondered if Slade, even for a second, felt a flicker of remorse for the woman who had soothed him night after night.

But then again, his actions had already shown his choice.

And for me, this was a kind of release.

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