I Hid His Heir from My Alpha

Alessandra POV

By the time I stepped closer to her wheelchair again, Isadora's voice drifted up—soft, casual, like she was making small talk.

"He's going to mark me soon, you know..."

Isadora's words were a physical blow, harder than any fist. Marking. The very word sent a phantom pain searing through my neck, my own wolf whimpering in the back of my mind. The bond between Demetri and me, already frayed, felt like it was being strangled by an invisible noose.

"He feels so guilty," Isadora continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, though her eyes danced with malice. She touched her throat, tracing the porcelain skin where an Alpha's bite would go. "He promised that once I'm strong enough... I'll finally take my rightful place as Luna. It's what the pack wants. It's what he wants."

I couldn't breathe. The air around me turned thin and sharp, smelling of her cloying perfume and my own impending heartbreak. "He... he wouldn't," I stammered, the denial tasting like ash on my tongue.

"Wouldn't he?" Isadora smirked, tilting her head. "Why do you think he kept you a secret? You were a convenience, Alessandra. A warm body to keep his bed from getting cold while he waited for me."

She wheeled herself closer, her expression shifting suddenly to one of distress as she glanced over my shoulder. "Oh, my wheel... it's stuck. Could you?"

I hesitated. My instincts screamed at me to run, to get away from this viper, but the ingrained habit of an Omega—to serve, to help—made me step forward. I bent down toward the sleek metal of her chair. "Where is it—"

Isadora's hand shot out, clamping onto my forearm with surprising strength. She yanked me down until my ear was inches from her lips. The fragility vanished, replaced by a predator's cold focus.

"It must have been fun warming his bed," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "Thinking you could ever be more than a placeholder. You pathetic little Omega."

I froze, paralyzed by the sheer toxicity of her tone. In that split second of my shock, Isadora threw her weight backward.

"No!" she shrieked, her voice piercing the night air. "Alessandra, please don't!"

With a violent jerk, she tipped the wheelchair over. Metal crashed against the pavement, and Isadora hit the ground with a sickening thud.

"Isadora!" Chrissy screamed, pointing a shaking finger at me. "Alpha! I saw it! She pushed her!"

Before I could even process the setup, the atmosphere exploded. A wave of pure, unadulterated Alpha power slammed into me before I saw him.

"Demetri, wait—"

I didn't get to finish. A hand of steel slammed into my chest, not to hold, but to repel. Demetri didn't just push me; he unleashed his fury. I flew backward, the world spinning until my spine collided with the iron railing of the restaurant steps.

Crack.

Agony radiated from my lower back, blinding and white-hot. I crumpled to the concrete, gasping for air that wouldn't come. Through the haze of pain, I saw Demetri kneeling beside Isadora, his face a mask of terror I had never seen him wear for me.

"Issy," he choked out, gathering her into his arms. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead, staining his white shirt.

"I didn't..." I wheezed, trying to push myself up, but a sharp, cramping pain twisted in my lower abdomen. "Demetri, I didn't touch her..."

He turned to me then. His eyes were pitch black, his wolf fully surfaced and murderous. "Silence!"

The command vibrated through my bones, forcing my mouth shut against my will. He stood, lifting Isadora as if she weighed nothing. He looked at me with such profound hatred that my soul withered.

"If anything happens to her," he snarled, his voice low and deadly, "I will destroy you."

He turned his back on me, marching toward his car. Chrissy scrambled after them, casting a triumphant sneer in my direction.

I tried to call out, but the pain in my stomach sharpened into a knife twist. A warm, wet sensation spread between my legs. Panic, cold and absolute, flooded my veins.

"No," I whispered, clutching my stomach as the world began to tilt and gray. "My baby..."

The darkness rushed in, swallowing me whole.

Demetri POV

The drive to the Pack Clinic was a blur of red rage and white fear. Isadora was sobbing softly against my chest, her small body trembling. But as I paced the sterile hallway of the private ward, the adrenaline began to fade, leaving behind a gnawing unease.

My wolf paced in the back of my mind, agitated, scratching at the walls of my skull. Mate hurt. Mate bleeding.

I shoved the thought away. Alessandra had attacked Isadora. I saw Isadora on the ground. I heard Chrissy. The evidence was right there.

I pushed open the door to the private ward. Isadora lay on the bed, a small bandage on her forehead. She looked tiny, fragile—everything Alessandra was not.

"Demetri," she breathed, reaching for my hand.

"Tell me what happened," I demanded, though my voice was gentle. "Did she threaten you?"

Isadora looked down, her lashes fluttering against her pale cheeks. "Please, Demetri. Don't be angry with her. She... she was upset. I think she's jealous." She squeezed my hand, looking up with wide, tear-filled eyes. "She's just an Omega. She gets emotional. It was my fault for provoking her with my presence. I shouldn't have come."

The knot in my chest loosened. It made sense. Alessandra was weak, prone to outbursts. Isadora was an angel, defending the very woman who hurt her.

"Rest," I said, kissing her knuckles. "I'll handle it."

I turned and walked out, the doubt in my gut silenced by my anger. I didn't see the way Isadora's tears instantly dried, or the cold, victorious smile that curled her lips as the door clicked shut.