When I discovered I was carrying Waylon’s pup, the Alpha of the Martin Pack spared no expense in ensuring my well-being. He brought in Dr. Ramon Salazar, our pack’s most trusted Healer, to prescribe the finest prenatal supplements. Though Waylon had never been one to show reverence to the Moon Goddess, he visited the sacred grove—a place of worship among our kind—and prayed fervently for the safe arrival of our child.

“My Luna,” he said, his voice soft but laced with his commanding alpha tone, “you’ve been through so much. Once the pup arrives, I promise to make it up to you.”

That same day, I accidentally answered his phone.

“Alpha Martin, as per your instructions, the prenatal supplements for your Luna contain a herb to ensure the pup isn’t born alive.”

“Aspen Baker’s pup is thriving and will undoubtedly succeed as the heir to the Martin Pack.”

“Your Luna will never suspect a thing, and your bond with her will remain intact. Rest assured.”

I stared at my growing belly, my heart shattering into pieces. His love was nothing but a lie. With no ties left to bind me, I prepared to leave, though the mate bond still burned faintly within me.

My hand trembled as I ended the call. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I cradled my stomach. No wonder every time I asked Waylon to feel the pup’s movements, he showed no excitement. He had known all along that this child was never meant to live.

Waylon emerged from the ensuite bathroom, his towering frame dominating the room. His muscles, a testament to his alpha strength, rippled as he moved. “My Luna,” he said with a smile that once made my heart flutter, “is the pup being troublesome? Let me teach him a lesson!”

I lifted my tear-streaked face to look at him, the accusation burning in my chest. But when he rushed over, his large hands wrapping around me in a protective embrace, I couldn’t bring myself to speak.

“What’s wrong, my Luna?” he asked, his deep voice laced with concern. “Are you too tense? I’ll be here with you. You’re safe.”

His touch sent shivers down my spine, but not the kind I once welcomed. How could he be so cruel? To plot the death of our pup, maintain his affair with Aspen, and still whisper sweet lies to me?

I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and ventured cautiously, “Alpha, why… why can’t I feel the pup moving?”

He bent down, pressing his ear to my belly, and I watched him intently. For a fleeting moment, impatience flickered across his face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that familiar warmth.

“The pup is strong, my Luna,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re just anxious. I’m here with you.”

I was about to mention the phone call when Beta James knocked on the door.

“Alpha,” he said, his tone respectful, “the Healer needs to discuss the procedure with you.”

Waylon glanced at me instinctively, his voice softening. “I’ll be right back.”

He always insisted on having Dr. Salazar discuss things in my presence to keep me calm. But Beta James whispered at the door, “Aspen keeps asking for you, Alpha. I’m concerned her distress might affect her pup.”

My heart clenched, and I followed Waylon out, watching him enter the room next door. In his haste, he left the door slightly ajar.

Inside lay Aspen Baker, the rogue wolf who had once been the daughter of our pack’s Omega. Waylon was at her side, his deep voice coaxing, “The pup is fine, Aspen. You’re going to be a mother soon. Stop pretending to be ill; you know how it worries me.”

He playfully tapped her forehead, his touch gentle yet indulgent. Aspen smiled sweetly, taking his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm. She pouted, “I just miss you, Alpha. You spend all day with her; can’t you spare more time for me?”

Waylon bent down, his lips brushing against hers as he murmured, “I need to keep her calm for a while longer. Otherwise, how will she care for our pup?”

“Everything I do is to ensure your child becomes the heir of the Martin Pack. You understand, don’t you?”

Weakness overwhelmed me, and I stumbled back. Not only had he planned the death of our pup, but he intended for me to raise his and Aspen’s child.

Just moments ago, this man had been at my bedside, holding my hand, whispering sweet promises. Now, he was in another room, plotting to make me nurture his lover’s pup.

Had I not heard it with my own ears, I wouldn’t have believed it was the same mate I had loved for eight years. The sounds of their intimacy spilled from the room, Aspen’s laughter mingling with his low murmurs.

“The Healer says I can indulge a bit in the later stages of my pregnancy… oh! Alpha, you’re so playful!”

I stood there, watching as if to punish myself, before finally turning away. Step by step, I made my way to Dr. Salazar’s office, my heart heavy with the weight of betrayal.

Dr. Salazar, just tell me the truth. Has my pup already stopped moving?

I never imagined I would be so calm when asking this question. Perhaps my heart had already grown numb.

Dr. Salazar adjusted his glasses, avoiding eye contact with me. Eventually, he sighed and said, "Luna, without Alpha Martin's consent, I shouldn't tell you this, but your pup stopped moving two months ago…"

He didn't have the heart to finish the sentence. He knew how much harm a lifeless pup inside the womb for two months could cause, but he wanted me to give up any hope and consider adopting another child.

I spoke calmly to him, "Dr. Salazar, I need your help with something. After the surgery, can you tell him that I died on the operating table?"

Dr. Salazar's face was full of conflict. "Alright, I promise you."

As I stepped out of the examination room, I saw Aspen Baker taking a walk, assisted by Waylon Martin. The moment he met my gaze, Waylon looked flustered, quickly letting go of Aspen and rushing over to support me.

"Luna, I've been looking everywhere for you. How did you end up alone? It's dangerous."

His chest bore fresh, reddened scratch marks, evidence of the passionate encounter he'd just had.

I managed a sarcastic smile. Yes, it's dangerous—dangerous that I might catch him cheating.

"Just feeling unwell, came out to ask Dr. Salazar a few questions."

I replied coolly, keeping my distance from him.

Aspen approached, unable to hide the resentment in her eyes, her smile tinged with ambiguity. "Luna, Alpha Martin sure is worried about you. He started looking for you just two minutes after you left."

Her sarcasm was unmistakable.

Before I could say anything, Waylon snapped at her, his expression sour. "Mind your own business! Go away!"

He used impatience and indifference to mask his secret relationship with Aspen. But as I watched her leave, his concern for her was evident.

I noticed Aspen wore a locket around her neck, much like mine but slightly different.

Back in my hospital room, I searched online for lockets and realized mine was not quite the same. According to the internet, if the lockets are not identical, it could harm the wearer and affect the pup's health.

It turned out that my locket was a knock-off, whereas Aspen's was the real deal. When I first got pregnant, Waylon didn't seem thrilled; his expression remained neutral. Until he visited the cathedral, spent a day and night on his knees, and copied scriptures for three days to obtain the locket.

I repeatedly comforted myself, thinking he was just not very expressive, and was touched by his actions. But it was all a lie; the locket was intended for Aspen.

The locket was fake, and so was his love.

Waylon peeled an apple and offered it to me, but I turned away, leaving him puzzled. After a moment, he asked hesitantly, "Luna, did you answer a call from me this morning?"

His face was anxious, waiting for my reply. The longer I remained silent, the more uneasy he became. He asked again, "What did you hear?"

I turned my face away, exhausted, and replied, "No, your phone was nowhere near me. I accidentally knocked it to the ground."

Waylon sighed in relief, his usual smile returning as he tucked the blanket around me carefully.

In a gentle voice, he asked, "If our pup can't be born successfully… Can we adopt a child?"

Clearly, he was eager to fulfill his promise to Aspen.

I smirked and asked him, "Do you remember what vow you made when we became mates?"

"You said, 'I, Waylon Martin, Alpha of the Martin Pack, take you, Zendaya Martin, as my mate, to cherish and protect, to honor and respect, for as long as the moon shines.'"

The irony was bitter. Promises, no matter how beautiful, are like shooting stars—bright but fleeting.

Waylon looked at me in panic, shaking his head emphatically, "Luna, I would never betray you! Please believe me!"

I chuckled dryly and buried my head in the pillow. "I'm tired."

I'm tired of this. I no longer want to play this role in your overly dramatic production.