My Alpha Let His Luna Poison Our Baby

The Omega quarters smelled of mildew and despair, a fitting scent for my new life. I sat on the thin mattress, staring at the damp wall, my hand resting on my stomach. It was the only thing keeping me sane—the tiny heartbeat I could sense with my wolf hearing.

A knock broke the silence, and before I could answer, the door creaked open.

Isabelle stood there. She held a silver goblet, steam rising from it in delicate curls.

"May I?" she asked, her voice soft, lacking the venom she’d displayed earlier. She stepped inside, the hem of her silk dress brushing against the dirty floorboards. "I brought you something. An herbal tonic. It helps with stress. My mother used to make it for me."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why would you help me?"

Isabelle sighed, placing the goblet on the rickety bedside table. She looked almost regretful. "Preston is... intense. I know this situation isn't ideal for you. But we are pack now. We should try to find peace, for the sake of the Alpha."

She pushed the goblet closer. It smelled of chamomile, honey, and something else—something earthy and bitter that was masked by the heavy scent of her vanilla perfume. My throat was parched. I hadn't had water since the demotion ceremony.

"Peace," I repeated, my voice raspy.

"For the pack," she said, offering a small, sad smile.

I didn't trust her, but I was exhausted, and my pride was too battered to fight over a cup of tea. I picked it up and downed the contents in one long gulp. It was sweet, cloyingly so, with a metallic aftertaste that lingered on my tongue.

"Rest well, Natalie," Isabelle said. Her smile didn't reach her eyes as she turned and left, locking the door behind her.

The pain didn't start immediately. It crept in like a shadow, a dull ache in my lower abdomen that I initially dismissed as hunger. But within the hour, the ache turned into a fire.

I doubled over, a gasp tearing from my throat. It felt like claws were raking through my insides, shredding soft tissue.

*Poison,* Vex snarled in my mind, her voice frantic. *Wolfsbane. Concentrated.*

Panic, cold and sharp, washed over me. I tried to stand, to reach the door, but my legs gave out. I hit the cold concrete hard. The cramping intensified, turning into a rhythmic, blinding agony.

"No," I whimpered, clutching my stomach. "No, please, not him."

I felt the wetness between my legs before I saw the blood. It soaked through my pants, warm and sticky.

*Heal it!* I screamed internally at Vex. *Fix it!*

*I can't!* Vex howled, a sound of pure anguish that echoed in my skull. *It's too much. It's burning me!*

The wolfsbane wasn't just attacking my womb; it was attacking my wolf. The connection between us, usually a sturdy iron chain, began to fray. Vex was taking the brunt of the toxicity to keep my human heart beating, absorbing the poison meant to kill me.

I lay curled in a fetal position on the dirty floor, alone in the dark, as my child slipped away from me. I screamed until my voice broke, sobbing into the concrete.

Then, Vex let out one final, whimpering cry—and vanished.

The presence in my mind, the constant companion I’d had since I was sixteen, simply blinked out. The silence that followed was deafening. It was a hollow, echoing void where my soul used to be.

Darkness took me soon after.

***

When I opened my eyes, the harsh fluorescent lights of the Healer’s wing blinded me. The smell of antiseptic replaced the mildew.

Beta Marcus was sitting in the chair next to the bed, his head in his hands. He looked up as I stirred, his face pale and drawn.

"Natalie," he breathed, standing up. "I found you... I heard the screaming, but I didn't have the key... I had to break the door..."

I stared at the ceiling. I felt light. Too light. The spark of life in my belly was gone. The presence of the wolf in my mind was gone. I was empty.

"The baby?" I asked, though I already knew.

Marcus looked away, tears shining in his eyes. He didn't answer. He didn't have to.

The Healer, an older woman named Sarah, stepped into my line of sight. "It was a violent miscarriage, Natalie. Your body rejected the fetus. We found high concentrations of wolfsbane in your blood. It nearly killed you."

"Isabelle," I croaked. "She gave me a drink."

The door swung open, slamming against the wall. Preston marched in. He looked disheveled, his hair messy, his eyes wild. For a second, just a second, I thought I saw the man I loved. I thought I saw the Alpha who would burn the world down for hurting his mate.

He stopped at the foot of the bed, gripping the railing until his knuckles turned white. He looked at the Healer, then at me.

"Is she stable?" he asked.

"Physically, yes Alpha," Sarah said quietly. "But the trauma... and the wolfsbane..."

"Wolfsbane," Preston repeated, shaking his head. He looked at me, his expression shifting from concern to frustration. "I told you, Natalie. I told you that you were under too much stress. You let your emotions get the better of you."

I stared at him, unable to comprehend his words. "Isabelle poisoned me, Preston. She came to my room."

"Stop it," he snapped, his voice sharp. "Isabelle has been with me all evening planning the ceremony. Do not blame your weak constitution on her. You worked yourself into a state, and your body couldn't handle it."

My heart, which I thought had already shattered, broke into even smaller dust. He knew. Deep down, his wolf had to know. But he was choosing not to see it.

He walked around the side of the bed and reached out to touch my hand. His skin felt foreign. Cold.

"It's a tragedy," Preston said, his voice softening into a tone that was meant to be comforting but felt like a slap. "But perhaps it's for the best. The timing was wrong. You are strong, Natalie. You heal fast."

He squeezed my hand, leaning in close, whispering as if he were promising me the world.

"Once you recover, we will try again. You're fertile. We can make another heir. A stronger one."

I looked into his eyes—those golden eyes I used to adore—and felt absolutely nothing. No love. No anger. Just a cold, hard resolve settling in the empty space where my wolf used to be.

He didn't see me as a mate. He didn't see me as a mother grieving her child. He saw a broken appliance that just needed to be rebooted.

"Get out," I whispered.

Preston frowned, straightening up. "You're emotional. I'll leave you to rest."

He turned and walked out, leaving me alone with the ghosts of my wolf and my child. He thought he still owned me. He thought he could just plant another seed in the soil he had allowed to be poisoned.

He was wrong.