My Alpha Faked His Death to Abandon Me

Five years. For five years, I had prayed to the Moon Goddess for this exact moment.

I stood in the center of our Alpha suite, adjusting the collar of my crimson silk dress. The dining table was set to perfection: sterling silver cutlery gleaming under the soft glow of candlelight, two plates of medium-rare steak cooling slightly, and a bottle of expensive red wine breathing on the counter. It was our fifth mating anniversary.

But the real centerpiece wasn't the food. It was a small, black velvet gift box resting exactly where my mate, Alpha Bowen Smith, would sit. Inside that box wasn't a luxury watch or a pair of engraved cufflinks. It was a plastic stick with two solid pink lines.

I was pregnant. After years of whispered insults from the pack elders, after years of feeling like a defective Luna, I was finally carrying Bowen's pup. My inner wolf, Reya, wagged her tail in my mind, practically humming with joy.

He is going to be so happy, Reya purred.

I glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was past eight. Bowen was late.

A sudden, muffled thud echoed from down the hall, coming from Bowen's private study. I frowned. Had he sneaked in through the packhouse's back entrance to surprise me?

Smiling to myself, I picked up the velvet box and padded softly down the carpeted hallway. "Bowen?" I called out softly.

The heavy oak door to his office was cracked open, spilling a sliver of golden light into the dark corridor. I reached out to push it wide, but my hand froze mid-air.

A soft, breathy giggle drifted through the gap. It wasn't Bowen's voice.

My heart performed a slow, painful roll in my chest. I pressed my eye to the crack in the door.

The breath vanished from my lungs. Bowen, my mate, my Alpha, was standing by his mahogany desk. But he wasn't alone. Tessa Stone, a young she-wolf from our pack, had her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Bowen's hands were gripping her waist, his lips locked hungrily with hers.

A violent shudder ripped through my soul. The mate bond, usually a warm tether in my chest, suddenly felt like a rusted wire slicing into my heart.

But the nightmare didn't end there. Just a few feet away from them, resting on the leather sofa, was a woven bassinet. A tiny, fragile whimper came from inside it. A newborn pup.

"Are you sure we have everything?" Tessa murmured, pulling back from his lips.

"Every last dime," Bowen replied, his voice low and casual, completely devoid of the warmth he used to give me. "The pack's offshore accounts are drained and transferred to the new Caymans account. The duffel bags are packed."

"And the rogue attack?" Tessa asked, tracing his jawline with a manicured finger.

"Arranged for midnight," Bowen said smoothly. "There will be enough blood in the woods to convince the elders I was torn apart. By the time they realize the money is gone, we'll be three states away."

Tessa glanced toward the bassinet. "And him? You're really leaving James?"

Bowen didn't even look at his own flesh and blood. "Arabella will raise him. She's so desperate to be a mother, she'll cling to the boy like a lifeline once I'm dead. It's the perfect distraction."

The velvet box in my hand suddenly felt like a block of lead. He was leaving. He was stealing the pack's future, faking his death, and leaving me to raise his bastard child while he ran off with his chosen mate.

Reya howled in sheer agony. I couldn't hide anymore.

I shoved the oak door open. It slammed against the wall with a deafening crack.

Bowen and Tessa jumped apart. For a split second, shock flashed across Bowen's handsome face. But it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a cold, hard mask I had never seen before.

"Bowen," I choked out, my voice trembling. My gaze darted from his face, to Tessa's smug smirk, to the three stuffed duffel bags near the desk. "How could you?"

He didn't look guilty. He didn't even flinch. Instead, his eyes flashed a brilliant, terrifying gold. The air in the room grew heavy, suffocating me as he unleashed his Alpha aura.

"You were never supposed to be here, Arabella," he sneered, stepping forward.

"You're draining the pack... abandoning us..." Tears spilled hot down my cheeks. I held up the velvet box like a shield. "I'm your Luna! I'm your mate!"

"You are a barren failure!" Bowen roared, using his full Alpha tone.

The sheer force of his voice forced me to my knees. The velvet box slipped from my trembling fingers, popping open on the rug. The plastic stick rolled out, but Bowen didn't even glance at it.

He looked down at me with absolute disgust.

"I, Alpha Bowen Smith," he began, every word a physical blow to my chest, "reject you, Arabella Evans, as my mate and my Luna."

"No!" I screamed, but it was too late.

The bond snapped. It felt as though someone had plunged a silver hunting knife into my chest and twisted it violently. I collapsed onto the Persian rug, gasping for air, my vision blurring with black spots. The pain was absolute, tearing my soul to shreds.

Bowen grabbed the heavy duffel bags, ignoring my agonizing cries. Tessa linked her arm through his, stepping right over my trembling legs.

"Let's go," Bowen muttered.

The baby in the bassinet began to wail, a sharp, piercing cry that echoed through the room. Bowen didn't look back. He walked out the door, taking my heart, my pack's security, and my entire life with him into the night.

Left alone on the floor with the crying infant, I curled into a tight ball. The agony of the rejection burned through my veins, but as my hand instinctively dropped to my flat stomach, a fierce, primal instinct flared to life.

I clutched my womb, shielding the tiny, secret life growing inside me. He had broken me, but I would not let him break my pup.