When the Alpha Tried to Earn My Love Again, I Said Go away!

Zera’s POV

I lost track of time inside that dark room.

Days, or maybe weeks, passed, and I stopped counting somewhere between the hunger and the silence. The moonlight that used to comfort me no longer reached through the barred window. My wolf had grown quiet too, curling in on herself, her once-vibrant growls now replaced by faint whimpers echoing in my chest.

When the door finally opened, the sound of the hinges screeching felt like thunder. I squinted against the sudden flood of light and saw him—Alpha Jeremiah—standing there with his usual cold authority.

He didn’t look at me like I was his mate. He looked at me like I was something that stained his floor.

“You should thank Hannah,” he said flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. “If it weren’t for her, you’d still be rotting here.”

His words stabbed deeper than the hunger pangs. My throat was raw, my voice hoarse when I whispered, “How generous of her.”

His expression hardened, but I caught the flicker of discomfort before it disappeared. “She pleaded for your release,” he continued. “For the sake of your friendship.”

I almost laughed, but the sound that came out was dry and bitter. “Friendship,” I echoed, forcing a smile that hurt my cracked lips. “Truly noble of her.”

He didn’t reply. He just stared at me as if waiting for gratitude. I pushed myself up from the cold floor, my body trembling under the strain. My knees nearly gave out, but he didn’t reach for me. Not even when I stumbled. His hands stayed buried in his pockets, his eyes cold.

“Make sure you clear out everything from the master bedroom,” he said, turning his back on me. “Hannah will be moving there.”

He left before I could say anything. The door clicked shut behind him, and my wolf whimpered again, quieter this time. I stayed there for a long while, my heart pounding dully in my chest. When I finally forced myself to move, every step felt like dragging broken bones.

Hours later, the door opened again. This time, it was Hannah.

She carried a tray with a small bowl of soup, steam curling faintly in the air. “I thought you’d be hungry,” she said sweetly, setting it down beside me. “You must be weak.”

Her voice was sugar and poison all at once. I stared at her, too tired to mask the hatred in my eyes.

“I wanted to help,” she continued, crouching down, her perfect curls framing her delicate face. “I told Alpha Jeremiah you didn’t deserve to die in here. We used to be friends, Zera.”

“Used to,” I said quietly.

She smiled—cold and knowing. “You know,” she whispered, her tone changing, “I was wondering when you’d find out that I know you’re already aware of the truth.”

My stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes glittered with triumph. “The Alpha’s office. You were there, weren’t you?” She leaned closer, her scent—roses and deception—burning in my nose. “You know the truth now. That it was my safety Alpha Jeremiah prioritized that night… and because of that, your daughter died.”

I felt the air leave my lungs. My wolf snarled inside me, furious and wild, but my body refused to move. Hannah smiled wider, lowering her voice.

“And do you know what else?” she whispered. “Annie’s heart… it beats in me now. Oh! You also overheard that, my bad!”

My blood turned to ice. My gaze snapped to her chest. “You—” The word broke off, trembling.

She tilted her head. “How does it feel, knowing a part of your child keeps me alive?”

I stood, shaking, rage overtaking exhaustion. My hand itched to strike her, to claw that smug smile off her face, but before I could move, she did something I never expected.

Hannah picked up the knife from the tray and sliced her arm open.

The metallic scent of blood filled the room. I gasped as she shoved the knife into my hand, her eyes wide with feigned terror.

Then she screamed. Loud. High-pitched. Shattering.

The door burst open almost instantly.

Alpha Jeremiah stormed in, his aura suffocating the room. “What the hell—” His eyes landed on Hannah, bleeding and sobbing, then on me—with the knife in my hand.

“It’s not—” I started, but he didn’t let me finish.

He struck me. The sound of the slap echoed through the walls. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted blood. Before I could steady myself, his foot drove into my stomach, knocking the breath out of me.

“Alpha—stop!” I tried to scream, curling over the pain. “I didn’t—”

He didn’t stop. His voice was venom. “How could you? She tried to help you! You’re nothing but a curse!”

I struggled to speak, but every breath burned. I wanted to tell him, to beg him to listen, that I was carrying his child. That he was hurting not just me.

“I’m—” I gasped, tears mixing with blood. “I’m preg—”

“Shut up!” he bellowed. “Don’t you dare lie to me again!”

Hannah whimpered from the corner, her sobs perfectly timed. “It’s my fault,” she said shakily, clutching her wound. “I shouldn’t have come here… she just snapped.”

“Enough!” Jeremiah growled, gathering her into his arms. His wolf energy flared, powerful and protective, but not for me.

For her. They left in a rush, heading to the infirmary. The door slammed shut, leaving me crumpled on the floor, the taste of iron heavy on my tongue.

For a long time, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, the pain in my stomach spreading like fire. Then instinct took over.

I dragged myself up. Step by step. Every movement tore through me, but I refused to stop.

I reached the front gates of the packhouse, ignored the guards’ horrified faces, and stumbled into a taxi, leaving streaks of blood on the seat. I told the driver one word. “Hospital.”

When the doctor came out hours later, his face told me everything before he even spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “The baby couldn’t be saved.”

My world went silent. No heartbeat. No future. Nothing but hollow ache.

Alpha Jeremiah never came. Not that night. Not the next morning. Not even after the pack healer sent word. I waited. I hoped. I broke.

And when the third sunrise came, something inside me shifted. The ache turned cold. The bond between us still hummed faintly, but I felt it thinning—like a thread ready to snap.

Three days later, he finally called for me.

There was to be a celebration, his birthday, and a gathering of Alphas from neighboring packs. He told me to “be presentable.”

I stood before the mirror, pale and ghostlike.

When he saw me before the event, his tone was softer. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he said. “That’s good. I like it when you’re obedient.”

I smiled faintly, but it never reached my eyes. “Of course, Alpha.”

He frowned slightly, maybe sensing the emptiness behind my words. Then he leaned in to kiss me. I turned at the last second, and his lips brushed my cheek instead. His confusion flickered, but he said nothing. Just sighed and muttered, “See you later.”

Hannah appeared then, her arm perfectly bandaged, her eyes bright as she clung to him. “We’ll be late,” she chirped.

They left together.

And they didn’t know it then, but it was the last time they’d ever see me.

When the door shut, I turned to the desk where I’d been working all morning. Papers lay scattered—divorce papers, medical reports, proof of everything they’d done. Evidence that Alpha Jeremiah had paid the soldiers I hired to sabotage Annie’s rescue, that Hannah received my daughter’s heart. I’d gathered it all.

I sealed the documents in an envelope, addressed to Alpha Jeremiah, and tied it with silver thread. On top, I wrote a note,

Happy birthday, my Alpha.

— Zera Hatunberg.

Then I called Beta Amiel.

“Give this to him,” I said, handing him the envelope. “During the celebration.”

He looked at me warily. “Luna… are you sure?”

“I’m not Luna anymore,” I whispered. “Just do it.”

He nodded, understanding the unspoken finality in my voice.

When the limousine from my family’s pack arrived, I climbed in without hesitation. I didn’t look back at the mansion. Not at the territory I once ruled beside him. Not at the pack I had loved more than myself.

As the gates closed behind me, my wolf stirred faintly.

I looked out the window, the full moon glinting faintly through the clouds.

And in that pale light, I made my silent vow.

They would regret the day they broke me.