My Alpha Chose Another Woman as I Miscarried, Now He Won't Let Me Go

Kira Hayes POV:

I came to on the cold marble floor, my clothes damp and sticky with blood. The metallic tang of iron filled my mouth and nose.

I struggled to open my eyes. My vision blurred in and out, and it took several seconds before I could make out the grand foyer around me and the dark stain spreading beneath my body. My blood.

The pain in my abdomen was agony, a physical reminder of the small life I had just lost.

My hand trembled as I fished my phone from my pocket. The screen was a spiderweb of cracks, but it lit up.

I dialed Aiden's number. Again. And again. Each time, the same cold, automated voice: "The user you are calling is currently busy."

I tried the mind-link again, pushing my consciousness toward his. It was like throwing myself against a steel wall. It bounced back, rejected. He had blocked me.

Despair washed over me, a suffocating tide. My Alpha, my mate, had chosen to believe another woman, had cut off my every cry for help while I was bleeding out on his floor.

Tears I couldn't control slid down my cheeks, mixing with the blood on the marble.

Just as my consciousness began to fade again, the cracked screen of my phone lit up.

Chloe Sullivan. My best friend.

The one person I knew I could still count on.

I swiped to answer, my fingers clumsy. I couldn't form a word, only a weak, guttural sob.

"Kira? Are you there? Oh my god, what's wrong?" Chloe's voice on the other end was sharp with alarm. She always knew when something was truly wrong.

I tried to speak, but only broken sounds came out. "...stairs... blood..."

"Don't move! I'm coming right now!" Her voice was firm, decisive. The line went dead.

I don't know how long I lay there. It felt like an eternity. The front door burst open, not unlocked but forced, and Chloe rushed in with several men in Pack security uniforms.

She saw me and let out a strangled scream. She ran to my side, her hands shaking as she pulled off her own coat to wrap around me.

"Oh god, Kira. Who did this to you?"

I just looked at her, fresh tears welling up, unable to speak.

I barely remembered being rushed to the Pack hospital. There were only scattered flashes—the wail of the ambulance siren, Chloe's hand gripping mine, and the ceiling above me slipping in and out of focus.

I woke up to a stark white ceiling and the sharp, clean scent of antiseptic.

Chloe was sitting by my bed, her eyes red and swollen. "You're awake," she said, her voice hoarse.

"The baby..." I whispered, my hand flying to my stomach. It felt empty. A hollow, aching void that made it hard to breathe.

Chloe's tears fell. She took my hand. "I'm so sorry, Kira... The Healer said... you were eight weeks pregnant. But you lost too much blood. The cub... it didn't make it."

Even though I already knew, hearing the words spoken aloud was a final, brutal verdict. My heart felt like it had been scooped out with a spoon.

The Healer, an older she-wolf with kind, compassionate eyes, entered the room. "Luna," she said softly. "Your body is very weak. You need to rest." In our world, the Healer was a revered position, their skills innate and precious.

"Does... does Aiden know?" I asked, my throat raw.

A flash of fury crossed Chloe's face. "I called him a dozen times. Texted him. He didn't answer a single one. He hasn't even asked about you."

The Healer sighed. "The Alpha has a right to know he has lost a cub. I have sent him an official notification through Pack channels."

A tiny, stupid flicker of hope ignited in my chest. An official notification. He couldn't call that a lie, could he?

Hours passed. The door to my room remained closed. Aiden never came.

Then, my phone vibrated on the bedside table. A text from Aiden. His first contact since he'd left me bleeding on the floor.

My hands shook as I opened it.

The message was only one sentence.

"Using Pack medical resources to support your performance, Kira. You've truly disappointed me."

I stared at the words, the blood in my body freezing solid. He still didn't believe me. He thought all of this—the hospital, the Healer's official diagnosis—was just an elaborate play I had staged to get him back.