
Ditching My Alpha Mate
Ditching My Alpha Mate Chapter 1
Blood spread across my white dress, pooling at my feet. "No! Our child!" My wolf’s cry tore through the air, raw and desperate, as the rogue’s attack slammed me to the ground.
I tried reaching out to Cassian Vexis, my mate and the Alpha of Crescent Ember Pack, through our mind-link. But there was no answer.
Not until the rogue finally tired of tormenting me, and I was too weak to fight back. Then I saw him—Cassian, my mate—his arm around Emira Velis, his Beta, as they stepped out of a car in the distance.
“Cassian!” I screamed his name, but Emira shrieked and pressed herself into him, as if trying to disappear into his arms.
He held her tighter. “Don’t look,” he said, his voice cold and detached. “How unlucky.”
That night, I reached out to Darius Arion, the Head Councilor of the Werewolf Council, through the mind-link.
My voice was steady, though every word felt like it was being torn from me. “I’ve made my decision. I’m leaving Crescent Ember Pack. I’ll join the Council next week.”
….
The smell of iron and earth filled my nostrils as I clutched my abdomen, the warm blood seeping through my fingers. The rogue had come out of nowhere—a blur of claws and teeth tearing through the pack's outer forest. I barely managed to fight him off before collapsing onto the dirt, my strength draining with every second.
My vision blurred as I tried to focus, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. Someone had to come. Someone would notice.
And then I saw him.
A sleek black SUV pulled up on the dirt road. The driver’s door opened, and Cassian Vexis, my mate and the Alpha of Crescent Ember Pack, stepped out. Relief surged through me. He would save me. He always would.
But my heart sank when I saw Emira Velis, his Beta, step out beside him. She was laughing softly, the sound sharp and clear even through the haze of my pain. Her scent, a distinctive mix of cedar and honey, drifted through the air and hit my senses like a mockery of my own.
Cassian glanced at me—just a brief flicker of his golden eyes—and then shielded Emira’s face with his hand.
“Don’t look,” he said, his voice cold and detached. “How unlucky.”
And just like that, they drove away, leaving me to bleed on the forest floor.
---
By the time one of the patrol guards found me, it was too late.
I woke up in the healer’s clinic, the sterile scent of herbs and antiseptics filling the air. The healer, Iris, stood over me, her expression heavy with sympathy.
“You were eight weeks pregnant, Luna,” she said softly. “If you’d been brought here sooner, the pup might have been saved.”
Her words cut through me like a blade. Eight weeks. I hadn’t even known.
I barely felt the eight stitches as she worked on the wound the rogue had left on my leg. The physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.
---
When I returned to the packhouse later that evening, I felt hollow. My steps echoed through the empty halls, my body moving on autopilot.
As I walked into the bedroom I shared with Cassian, something caught my eye—a delicate piece of lace fabric hanging off the edge of a chair. It was a soft rose color, feminine and elegant. It wasn’t mine.
I stared at it for a long moment before carefully folding it and placing it on the edge of the bed.
Instead of anger, a chilling calm settled over me.
I picked up my phone and dialed the number I’d been given weeks ago.
“Darius Arion, Head Councilor of the Werewolf Council,” the voice on the other end said warmly. “Celia, have you made your decision?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “I’ll leave the Crescent Ember Pack and join the Council next week.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Darius replied. “The Council will be honored to have you.”
As the call ended, Cassian walked out of the adjoining bathroom, his dark hair still damp. He glanced at me briefly, his usual commanding presence filling the room.
“Who were you talking to just now?” he asked, his voice casual.
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