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After I died, Alpha collapsed. Novel Cover

After I died, Alpha collapsed.

I was a Vampire Princess, mated and married to an Alpha werewolf. But our child was neither vampire nor werewolf; he was nothing but a scrawny, feral mutt. In a fit of rage, Kaelen killed him and banished me. To save my baby, I drained every drop of my magic and died completely. Five hundred years after my death, Kaelen came seeking my heart to ensure his new Luna could bear an heir. "Five hundred years... has she learned her lesson? Tell her to offer up her heart, and I might just forgive her this once." But when he finally learned of my death, he fell to his knees before my grave, weeping and begging for forgiveness.
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Chapter 2

The day Kaelen arrived, the air in the Vampire Sanctuary grew heavy and suffocating.

I felt his presence even before he appeared.

The vampires, usually so arrogant and aloof, hissed and retreated into the shadows, terrified by the overwhelming aura of a Supreme Alpha.

Kaelen strode through the obsidian doors of the Sanctuary like a conquering god.

He was taller, broader, and far more lethal than the rogue wolf I had saved centuries ago.

He didn't come alone. A hundred elite werewolf enforcers trailed behind him.

But Kaelen wasn't here to wage war; he was here to claim my Scarlet Core.

"Elara!" Kaelen's voice boomed, shaking the dust from the cavern ceiling. "I sent twelve messengers, and you ignored every single one. Must I personally drag you out of your den?"

I floated behind Lucian as my son stood in the center of the crypt's grand antechamber. Compared to the towering werewolf at the door, he looked impossibly small.

"Who are you?" Lucian asked, his voice eerily calm, though I could see his tiny fists trembling slightly. "What do you want with my mother?"

At the word "mother," Kaelen stopped in his tracks.

He narrowed his glowing eyes and looked down at the child.

He took in the boy's frail body and the jagged silver scar trailing from Lucian's forehead down his neck—the cruel reminder of the day he was born, when Kaelen had tried to cleave him in half.

A look of sheer disgust twisted the Alpha's features.

"A mutt is a mutt. The lowly bloodline of a feral cur," Kaelen spat, the venom in his tone making my phantom heart ache.

"Five centuries have passed, and you're still a weak, stunted little runt. I'll never understand why she wasted her royal blood to keep you alive."

Lucian clenched his jaw. "State your business, Alpha, or leave."

Kaelen scoffed and stepped into the room. His suffocating pheromones grew heavier, seemingly crushing the air itself.

"Tell her to stop playing these ridiculous games. I stripped her of her Luna title and banished her here to heal. Five hundred years later, and she's still throwing a tantrum?"

Kaelen crossed his arms over his chest, his dark leather jacket pulling tight against his massive biceps.

"Tell Elara to stop being so selfish. Selene is carrying my true heir."

"But because Selene is an Omega, her body cannot handle the strain of bearing an Alpha pup. The pack healers say she needs the magic of a pureblood's Scarlet Core for a safe delivery."

Kaelen's eyes turned icy.

"Tell Elara that if she gives up her core's magic to help Selene deliver my pup, I will spare her."

"I will allow her to return to the Blood Moon Pack. Not as my Luna, of course, but as a mistress. That is far more mercy than a traitor deserves."

Fury, searing and sharp, surged through my intangible form.

A mistress?

Give my heart to the woman who killed me?

If I had breath, I would have shrieked. If I had claws, I would have ripped his throat out.

"Where is she?" Kaelen demanded impatiently, taking another step forward. "Tell her to get her ass out here!"

Lucian didn't flinch. He lifted his chin. "My mother is dead. She cannot help you. Leave."

Kaelen's amber eyes darkened to molten gold. "Dead? Elara? She's a vain, spoiled vampire royal. She would never let herself die."

"She just knows Selene needs her magic, so she's using these underhanded tricks to make me beg. She wants me on my knees so she can crawl back into my bed."

He brushed past Lucian, heading straight for the inner sanctum of the crypt.

"You can't go in there!" Lucian threw his arms wide, using his frail body to block the way.

Without breaking his stride, Kaelen backhanded him.

The strike wasn't meant to kill, but the casual force of an Alpha werewolf was devastating. It sent my son flying.

Lucian slammed hard against the stone wall, a sickening thud echoing through the room.

"Lucian!" I screamed, lunging toward him. I tried to cradle his head, but my hands grasped at nothing.

"Elara, I know you're here!" Kaelen roared, striding into the inner chamber.

He froze.

In the center of the room, illuminated by a flickering torch, stood a monument of black marble.

Engraved upon it were the words: Elara, the Last Princess of the Night. Beneath the monument sat a simple clay urn, surrounded by withered, dying roses.

Lucian stumbled into the room, leaning heavily against the doorframe. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, staining his pale chin.

"Alpha Kaelen," Lucian rasped, clutching his bruised ribs. "My mother is truly gone. Her core shattered."

"I beg of you, for the sake of the crown she once helped you win, do not desecrate her resting place. Let her be."

A heavy silence hung in the frigid air. Kaelen stared at the urn.

For a split second, I thought I saw a flicker of hesitation in his eyes—perhaps.

But then he ground his teeth together. "Lies."

He reached for the urn.

"Don't touch her!"

Lucian lunged, his small hands glowing with silver magic as he tried to shove the massive Alpha away from my monument.

Kaelen's patience completely snapped. He unleashed the full force of his Alpha aura.

Under the crushing weight of the invisible magic, Lucian's bones groaned and popped. He curled up on the stone floor, his mouth open in a silent scream, veins bulging in his neck as his internal organs were slowly compressed.

"Stop!" I threw myself at Kaelen, pounding my ghostly fists against his chest. "You're killing him! Kaelen, you bastard, he's your son! Stop!"

But I was nothing. My fists passed right through him, kicking up nothing but dust.

Fortunately, Kaelen didn't actually want to kill the boy. Just before Lucian's bones snapped, he reined in his magic.

Lucian lay on the ground, twitching and coughing up thick, dark clots of blood.

Kaelen slammed a heavy steel-toed boot down on my son's chest, pinning him to the floor. He glared down at him without a shred of pity.

"A pathetic stray dares to bare his fangs at me?" Kaelen sneered. "Know your place, mutt."

He looked back at the urn.

"Did you really think I'd be fooled so easily? Elara gave up her daywalking ability to save you, yes."

"But she's a pureblood. She has nine drops of Ancient Blood in her veins. Losing a fraction of her magic wouldn't kill her. Even if she lost her core, the vampire in her blood would survive. This is nothing but a charade."

Lucian glared up at him, his small hands gripping Kaelen's massive boot, trying in vain to push it off. He had the exact same murderous look in his eyes that I did. But he was too weak. Kaelen didn't even register the boy's resistance.

Kaelen stepped over him and picked up my urn. He held it up to the light, inspecting it casually.

"I give her three days," Kaelen announced to the empty room. "If Elara doesn't step out of the shadows and hand over the Scarlet Core, I will finish what I started five hundred years ago. Tell her, if she disobeys, I'll slaughter you like a dog."

With a flick of his wrist, Kaelen hurled the urn at the stone wall.

It shattered into a thousand pieces. Gray ash—just ordinary ash Lucian had gathered to fake a monument and hide my real body—scattered across the floor.

Kaelen turned and walked out, his boots crunching over the ceramic shards.

The heavy doors finally slammed shut, leaving us in the dark with Lucian lying motionless.

It took him a long time to gather the strength to roll over. Weeping silently, he crawled across the floor on his hands and knees, meticulously picking up every broken piece of clay, cutting his fingers in a desperate attempt to piece my monument back together.

Watching him, my soul shattered all over again.

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