After My Alpha Killed Our Daughter, I Became Royal

The bond broke at 10:14 on a Tuesday morning, but I didn't know it yet.

I pushed open the packhouse door with my hip, arms full of rosemary and thyme for tonight's Thanksgiving feast. The herbs were fresh from the border gardens, still damp with morning dew. I'd left early to gather them myself because I wanted everything perfect. Kayden had been distant lately—pack business, he said—but tonight we'd sit together at the high table, his hand on mine, and I'd feel the warmth of the mate bond wrap around us like it used to.

That's what I told myself as I climbed the main stairs.

The scent hit me halfway up.

Bergamot and iron. Sharp and foreign. Layered thick over Kayden's cedar-and-smoke like paint over old wood.

My wolf, Hope, went very still inside me.

I stopped at the top of the landing. The master bedroom door—our bedroom door—stood half-open. The scent poured out in waves, so concentrated it made my eyes water. Not just bergamot. Something else underneath. Musk. Sweat. The unmistakable tang of sex.

The herbs slipped from my arms. Rosemary scattered across the hallway floor.

I pushed the door open.

Kayden sat on the edge of our bed, shirtless. Vienna Thornecrest knelt between his legs, her dark hair spilling over his thighs, her bare back to me. She turned at the sound of the door. Her lips were swollen. She didn't look surprised.

Kayden met my eyes over her shoulder.

He didn't move.

The mate bond—still warm in my chest, still carrying the flutter of our pup's heartbeat six months strong—registered his indifference like a blade held flat against skin. Not cutting yet. Just pressure.

"Rayna." His voice was calm. "You're back early."

Vienna rose slowly, reaching for her blouse draped over the chair. She didn't hurry. She buttoned it with deliberate fingers, watching me the entire time.

I couldn't speak. My throat had closed.

Inside my mind, Hope let out a low growl—the first real sound of anger she'd made in years. My hands began to shake.

"Get out," I whispered.

Vienna smiled. "Of course, Luna." She said the title like it was a joke. She brushed past me, trailing bergamot and iron, and paused in the doorway. "The alliance papers are signed, by the way. Congratulations."

The door clicked shut behind her.

I stared at Kayden. He stood, pulled on his shirt, and began fastening the buttons with the same unhurried precision Vienna had used. Like this was a business meeting I'd interrupted.

"How long?" My voice cracked.

He didn't answer immediately. He finished the last button. Smoothed the fabric. Then he looked at me.

"Does it matter?"

"You're my mate." The words came out broken. "We're having a pup. How—"

"The Ironclaw alliance secures our northern border." His tone dropped, sliding into Alpha register. Not a command yet, but close. "Vienna's father controls three territories. We need that access."

"So you—" I couldn't finish.

"I made a strategic decision." He stepped closer. The mate bond pulsed between us, still intact, still carrying the weight of six years together. It made the betrayal worse. I could feel his calm through the bond, his certainty, like what I'd just seen was reasonable. "You're emotional because of the pregnancy. I understand. But you need to think about the pack."

Hope snarled inside me. I felt my nails sharpen into claws.

"Don't," Kayden said quietly.

The Alpha tone dropped into the mate bond like a fist through glass. The command landed in my chest, and my claws retracted involuntarily. My body obeyed before my mind could refuse.

I staggered back.

"You should be grateful," he continued, his voice still that terrible, reasonable calm, "that I haven't replaced you publicly yet. Vienna understands her position. This doesn't have to change anything between us."

The bond pulsed again. I felt our pup shift inside me, responding to my distress.

"Get out of my sight," I whispered.

Kayden studied me for a long moment. Then he walked past, his shoulder brushing mine. He stopped at the door.

"The feast starts at sundown. Wear the blue dress. And smile."

He left.

I stood in the center of our bedroom—his bedroom now—and looked at the rumpled sheets. Vienna's scent was everywhere. In the pillows. On his skin. Soaked into the mattress where I'd slept beside him every night for six years.

The mate bond sat warm in my chest, still intact, still connected to the man who'd just commanded my body like I was a Delta warrior and not his mate.

I pressed my hand to my stomach. Felt the pup's heartbeat.

Hope was silent now, but I could feel her rage simmering beneath my skin like a fever.

I bent and picked up a sprig of rosemary from the hallway floor. Crushed it between my fingers. The scent was clean and sharp.

Tonight was Thanksgiving.

I had a feast to prepare.