When the Alpha Realized I Was No Longer His

Kaia’s POV

As soon as I turned away from the hospital and stepped outside, everything around me faded into a dull hum. My wolf whimpered inside me—hurt, exhausted, silent—too drained even to bare her teeth. I should have shifted and run until the earth tore beneath my paws. But I was empty. Numb.

I had cancer.

The words still didn’t feel real. They floated in my head, blurry and surreal, like a nightmare I hadn’t woken from. And Alden—my mate, the father of the child growing inside me, my Alpha—had treated me like I was meaningless. Less than a stranger. He lifted the woman who shattered our life and carried her like his world revolved around her, while I stood alone, accused, dismissed, humiliated.

I was carrying his pup.

Yet he chose her.

Every step toward the Moonspire Packhouse felt heavier, like the ground wanted to swallow me whole. The breeze cut colder. Leaves rustled not in comfort, but like they whispered about my fall. The pack felt unfamiliar, foreign… hostile. As though the entire world witnessed my heartbreak and simply watched.

I reached our home—no, his home now—and hesitated in the doorway. The familiar blend of cedarwood and honey, Alden’s scent, was faint… already replaced by something floral. Lavender. Lilac.

Marinal.

Her smell clung to the house like rot beneath perfume.

My gaze landed on the photo from our mateship ceremony. His smile had been bright, real. His hand at my waist, our foreheads touching like fate was sealed between us. Slowly, I lifted the frame from the wall. My fingers did not tremble.

The crash when it hit the trash bin echoed across the silent room.

I didn’t react.

Quietly, methodically, I began to pack. Shirt by shirt, memory by memory. My body ached; every muscle felt inflamed, bones heavy with illness. The fatigue was bone-deep, the nausea constant, like poison threading through my veins. The sickness felt alive, pulling at me from within.

My pup fluttered beneath my palms, sensing my distress.

“I’m so sorry, little one,” I murmured, pressing both hands protectively against my belly. “We’ll leave this place soon. Somewhere safe. I swear.”

After a long soak—hot water attempting to calm the burn under my skin—I wrapped myself in a thick robe. I summoned the pack healers. Time was slipping through my fingers; if I wanted this child to live, I needed guidance. Even if I didn’t survive, I had to give my pup a chance.

The scent of wolfsbane tea and eucalyptus greeted me downstairs. The healers were already gathered, heads bowed respectfully. Elder Matteo stood among them—steady, wise, loyal. If anyone would fight for me, it was him.

“Luna Kaia,” he greeted, voice full of quiet concern. “We arrived as soon as we could.”

“Thank you,” I replied softly, my voice barely steady. “We need to discuss my condition…”

The front door swung open.

Alden entered, carrying Marinal in his arms like she was made of fragile crystal.

I stepped forward, blocking their path. “I told you not to bring her here.”

His expression hardened instantly. “She’s injured. Because of you.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “She threw herself into glass and bled on purpose. You think I can’t smell deceit? I’m sick, not blind.”

Marinal whimpered delicately. “I only came because I didn’t know where else to go… I would never burden you, Luna. I’m just thinking of my baby.”

A growl formed in my chest.

“You don’t belong in this house.”

Her lashes lowered, trembling dramatically. She slid Alden’s hand onto her stomach—barely swollen.

“If you want us gone, Alpha… we’ll leave. Even if I feel faint. I would never defy your Luna.”

Viper. Manipulative and cunning.

Alden’s tone cut through the room. “What happened to your compassion? She’s expecting a pup.”

My composure cracked. “And I’m not? Did you forget I’m your mate and the mother of your firstborn?”

Alden stared at me like I was a stranger he despised.

“If she makes you uncomfortable, Kaia… maybe you should go.”

The room stilled.

He said it.

He actually said it.

In front of the healers.

Some dropped their gazes in shame. Elder Matteo’s jaw tightened in silent anger, but even he remained still. No one moved. No one spoke.

Words lodged in my throat. My voice felt trapped beneath grief and disbelief.

Slowly, I inhaled.

“Very well,” I whispered. “Do as you please.”

I turned away. I would not crumble—not here, not for him.

Marinal’s voice floated behind me, honey-coated poison.

“Oh, Alpha, did she break your mateship photo? That’s such a pity… it looked so beautiful where it was.”

My steps paused—but I did not turn.

“She’s being dramatic,” Alden muttered. “She always comes back after she cools off.”

I walked out of the house without looking back. A single tear slid down my cheek.

And it was the final tear I would ever waste on Alpha Alden.