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My Mate Let Our Pup Die Novel Cover

My Mate Let Our Pup Die

The crystal chandelier cast dancing shadows across the mahogany table as I sat with my hands folded neatly in my lap. The visiting dignitaries from the Northern Ridge Pack had arrived an hour ago, their Alpha's booming laugh echoing through the grand dining hall of the Silver Claw Pack House. I kept my eyes lowered, focusing on the intricate pattern of the tablecloth rather than the conversation flowing around me. My fingers traced the outline of my slightly swollen belly beneath the loose folds of my silk dress. Three months pregnant, and still Greyson insisted I hide it. "It's bad luck to announce a pregnancy before the fourth month," he'd said coldly. "The pack has superstitions to uphold." I took a shallow breath, feeling Luna stir restlessly within me. My wolf had been growing more agitated lately, sensing my discomfort in this suffocating environment. "The Crescent Moon Pack was never truly unified," Alpha Donovan's deep voice cut through the silence. "Their so-called alliance was a farce.
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Chapter 2

Hours passed in the darkness of The Sanctuary. I huddled in the corner, my arms wrapped around my stomach, trying to shield my unborn pup from the silver's toxic effects. The walls seemed to pulse with a malevolent energy, seeping into my pores with every breath.

"Greyson," I whispered into the void, knowing he couldn't hear me through the soundproof walls. "Please..."

Luna whimpered inside me, her presence growing weaker with each passing minute. The silver was poisoning our bond, separating us from each other.

*Anaya,* Luna's voice came faintly, *something's wrong.*

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. "I know. I can feel it."

A sudden, sharp pain lanced through my abdomen, causing me to gasp. I doubled over, my hands clutching at my stomach.

"No," I moaned. "Not now. Not here."

Another wave of pain hit, more intense than the first. I tried to stand, to call for help, but my legs buckled beneath me. I slipped on the cold stone floor, my hip hitting the ground hard, my stomach taking the brunt of the impact.

Warmth spread between my legs. Even in the darkness, I could smell the metallic scent of blood.

"Luna!" I cried out as another contraction tore through me. "Our pup!"

My wolf howled in agony, the sound echoing only in my mind as I felt our connection weaken further. I dragged myself toward the door, leaving a dark stain across the silver-lined floor.

"Help!" I screamed, pounding weakly against the unyielding metal. "Greyson! The baby!"

I closed my eyes, concentrating on our mate bond, sending desperate pulses of panic and pain through the link.

*Greyson! Our pup is dying! Please!*

For a moment, nothing. Then I felt a flicker of his presence, distant and cold.

*Stop this farce, Anaya. You're embarrassing yourself.*

"No!" I sobbed into the bond. "I'm bleeding! The silver—it's killing our pup!"

His response came like a slap: *You're lying. You've always been dramatic.*

The bond went silent as he deliberately blocked it. I could feel the void where his presence had been, now empty and cold.

"Greyson!" I screamed, my voice breaking. "Don't do this!"

But he was gone. And I was alone in the darkness, feeling the life within me fade with each passing minute.

Luna's howls grew fainter, her grief mirroring my own as we both realized what was happening. Our pup—our tiny, innocent pup—was slipping away.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to the emptiness. "I'm so sorry."

The last thing I remember was the warm wetness spreading beneath me and Luna's final, heartbreaking whimper before darkness claimed us both.

---

The sound of metal scraping against stone jolted me awake. Light flooded into the cell, blinding after so many hours of darkness.

"Twenty-four hours," Greyson's voice announced coldly. "Perhaps now you'll—"

His words died as he stepped inside. I lay unmoving on the floor, my dress soaked in blood, my face pale as death.

"Anaya?" His voice held a note of uncertainty for the first time.

When I didn't respond, he knelt beside me, his fingers pressing against my neck. The touch was clinical, detached.

"Get the healer," he barked at someone outside the door. "Now!"

Strong arms lifted me from the floor. Through half-lidded eyes, I saw Greyson's face—shocked but controlled, his Alpha mask firmly in place.

"She's lost the pup," the healer announced grimly after examining me. "And there's significant damage to her womb. The silver poisoning combined with the trauma..."

"Will she recover?" Greyson demanded.

"The body will heal," the healer replied carefully. "But she may never carry a child to term again."

I turned my face away, unable to bear the sight of him. Behind Greyson's shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Kayla's face—her expression a perfect mask of sympathy that didn't reach her eyes.

"What a tragedy," she murmured, her voice honey-sweet with false concern. When Greyson turned away to speak with the healer, Kayla leaned close to my ear.

"You were never meant to carry an Alpha's heir," she whispered, her breath hot against my skin. "Some wolves simply aren't strong enough."

---

"You brought this on yourself."

The Matriarch's voice cut through the haze of my recovery. Greyson's mother stood at the foot of my bed, her elegant figure rigid with disapproval.

"Mother," Greyson warned from the doorway.

"Leave us," she commanded. "She needs to understand what she's done."

As Greyson hesitated, then left, the Matriarch approached my bedside.

"A Luna who cannot produce an heir is a failure," she stated coldly. "And one who provokes her Alpha into punishing her while carrying his child is unforgivable."

I stared at her, unable to form words through my grief.

"You will apologize to my son," she continued, smoothing her immaculate dress. "For the mess you've created. For the shame you've brought upon this pack."

Something broke inside me then—the last thread of hope that anyone in this pack might see me as anything other than a possession, a failure, a disappointment.

"I lost my baby," I whispered.

"And that is your burden to bear," she replied without emotion. "Silver Claw women suffer in silence. We do not complain. We do not rebel."

As she turned to leave, her parting words echoed in the empty room: "You are not one of us. You never will be."

In that moment, staring at the ceiling of the Pack House that had become my prison, I made a silent vow to the Moon Goddess and to Luna within me:

This would not be my life forever.

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