The Alpha's Rejected Heir: A Mother's Revenge

My husband claimed he brought the surrogate into our bed to save my life. He said the Hatfield Curse killed every Alpha female in childbirth, so he needed another vessel for his heir. He swore it was just a clinical duty.

But when he intercepted the "rogue" I was desperately trying to smuggle out of the pack lands, his duty turned into slaughter.

Archie stood over the burlap sack that held my secret four-year-old son. He believed his mistress’s lie that the sack contained a dangerous weapon.

I screamed until my throat bled, telling him it was his own flesh and blood inside.

Archie just sneered, calling me insane. He raised his heavy military boot and stomped down hard.

I heard the sickening crunch of small ribs snapping.

A tiny, wheezing voice drifted from the flattened sack.

"Pa... pa..."

Archie froze for a second, but paranoia won. He stomped again, crushing the last breath out of our child.

He ordered the "rogue trash" to be thrown to the scavengers and cast me into the dungeon to be torn apart by feral wolves.

He thought he had saved the pack. He didn't know he had just murdered the only son who had survived the curse.

I didn't die in that cell. I let the ocean take me, only to be pulled out by his greatest rival.

Now, three months later, I’m walking back into his life. Not as his wife, but as his executioner.

Chapter 1

Karyme POV:

The Pack House walls were ancient stone, built to survive siege and shifting wolves. They weren't thick enough.

Thump. Thump.

The headboard next door hit the wall with a rhythm that made my teeth ache. I lay curled in the dark, my fingernails shredding the silk sheets.

"Archie... oh, Alpha..."

The moan filtered through the vents, carrying a scent that turned my stomach: synthetic vanilla and musk-Faustina. But beneath it was the smell of rain and ozone.

Archie. My husband. My Fated Mate.

My Inner Wolf whimpered, scratching at the mental wall I'd built. She wanted to comfort him, confused by the jagged pain bleeding through the bond.

"He's hurting us," I whispered. "He is breaking us."

Five years ago, under a full moon, Archie marked me. He promised love. But he also promised to protect me from the Hatfield Curse-the genetic defect that killed every Alpha female in childbirth. He loved me too much to kill me, he claimed.

So, he was killing my soul instead.

The Elders wanted an heir. The "Surrogacy Plan" was the solution. Faustina, a she-wolf with wide hips and a shark's smile, was the vessel. It was supposed to be clinical. A turkey baster and a doctor.

But tonight, I could hear the skin-on-skin contact. I could smell the lust.

"Karyme..."

Archie's voice leaked into my head through the Mind-Link. Breathless. Ragged. He was thinking of me while inside her.

"Don't," I sent back, locking the mental door.

"It's for the Pack," he grunted, a spike of pleasure hitting me like a physical slap. "She... she needs the Alpha essence directly. The doctor said... natural ensures the strength of the heir."

Bullshit. I slammed the link shut.

Silence fell next door. Then, the heavy tread of footsteps.

The doorknob turned. Locked.

"Karyme," Archie's voice came from the hall, wrecked and hoarse.

I didn't answer. His scent seeped under the door-sex and Faustina-but underneath, he was dumping pheromones. Thick, heavy waves of distress designed to force a mate into submission.

"Go away," I choked out.

"I had to," he whispered against the wood. "Faustina felt the pup move. She was in pain. She needed my strength to calm the fetus. It's a strong heir, Karyme. A male."

"It's our anniversary."

"I'm trying to keep you alive!" His voice cracked. "You think I want this? If you were pregnant... you would die. I can't lose my Luna."

He believed it. He thought he was a martyr.

I looked at the mirror. Hollow eyes, skeletal frame. I was already a ghost; he just hadn't buried me yet.

"You haven't saved me, Archie," I whispered. "You've just found a slower way to kill me."