Pregnant and Rejected by My Fated Alpha Mate

The Grand Hall of the Dark Moon Pack smelled of pine, roasted meat, and the heavy, electric scent of anticipation. Hundreds of eyes watched me as I walked toward the dais, the silk of my white ceremonial gown whispering against the stone floor. This was it. The moment I had prepared for since I was a child. The moment I would finally become Luna.

At the end of the aisle stood Jonas. My Alpha. My mate.

He looked devastatingly handsome in his formal black suit, his dark hair swept back, revealing the strong line of his jaw. But it was his eyes that held me captive—golden and burning with the same fierce love that thumped a chaotic rhythm against my ribs. My wolf, usually calm and composed, was pacing excitedly in my mind, yipping at the sight of him. *Mate. Finally, Mate.*

Ten years. We had been fated for ten years, waiting for the right moment, for the pack to be stable, for us to be ready. Today was supposed to be the beginning of our forever.

I reached the dais, and Jonas took my hands. His grip was warm, solid. The grounding force I had relied on for a decade.

"You look beautiful, Leslie," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "My Luna."

"And you look like trouble, Alpha," I teased softly, squeezing his hands. My heart felt so full I thought it might burst.

Elder Cordelia Blackwood, the head of the Alpha Council, stepped forward, her ancient voice echoing through the silent hall. "We gather here under the gaze of the Moon Goddess to witness the union of Alpha Jonas Black and his fated mate, Leslie Hamilton. Two souls, one destiny."

The crowd held its breath. The air crackled with power. This was the most sacred ritual in our world—the Marking. Once his teeth pierced the skin of my neck, our souls would be irrevocably bound, our scents merged, our minds open to one another forever.

Jonas stepped closer, his gaze intense. He brushed a stray lock of hair from my neck, his fingers trembling slightly. I tilted my head to the side, baring my throat to him in the ultimate sign of trust and submission. I closed my eyes, waiting for the sharp, sweet sting that would claim me as his.

I felt his breath against my skin. His lips grazed my pulse.

And then, he froze.

The warmth of his body turned rigid. A low growl rumbled in his chest, but it wasn't a sound of passion. It was distress. Confusion.

I opened my eyes. Jonas had pulled back, his golden eyes glazed over, unfocused. He was mind-linking someone. My stomach dropped. The silence in the hall stretched, thick and uncomfortable. Murmurs began to ripple through the crowd like a rising tide.

"Jonas?" I whispered, reaching for his arm. "What is it?"

He blinked, the glaze clearing to reveal panic. Pure, unadulterated panic. He looked at me, then at the door, then back at me. "I... I can't."

"What?" The word was barely a breath.

"It's Amoura," he said, his voice loud enough for the front rows to hear. The name hit me like a physical slap. Amoura Gonzalez. The wolfless Omega he had been 'mentoring' for the past year. The girl who called him at all hours, who needed him for everything.

"Jonas, we are in the middle of the ceremony," I hissed, trying to keep my voice steady, trying to keep the smile on my face for the dignitaries watching us.

"She's on the roof," Jonas said, stepping away from me. "She says she's going to jump. She's hysterical, Leslie. She says she has nothing to live for if... if I do this."

I stared at him, unable to comprehend what was happening. "She is manipulating you, Jonas. Again. We have security. The Gamma can handle it. You are the Alpha. You are about to mark your Luna."

"I can't take that risk!" he snapped, his voice cracking. "She's my responsibility. If she dies because I ignored her..."

He turned his back on me. He actually turned his back.

"Jonas!" I grabbed his arm, my nails digging into his suit jacket. My wolf was snarling now, humiliated and furious. "If you leave this altar, you leave me. Do you understand? You cannot walk away from this."

He looked at me then, and what I saw broke something fundamental inside my chest. It wasn't love in his eyes anymore. It was annoyance. He looked at me like I was the inconvenience.

"She needs me, Leslie. You're strong. You can wait. She can't."

He shook me off. In front of the Alpha Council. In front of my parents. In front of the entire pack. He ripped his arm from my grasp and ran down the aisle, his footsteps echoing like gunshots in the silent hall.

I stood there, my hand still reaching out, grasping at empty air. The white silk of my dress suddenly felt heavy, like a shroud. The murmurs turned into gasps, then whispers of pity.

*"He left her?"*

*"For an Omega?"*

*"The Alpha rejected his mate at the altar..."*

My mother was rushing toward the dais, her face a mask of horror, but I couldn't move. I felt cold. So incredibly cold.

***

Two hours later, I sat on the edge of the bed in the bridal suite. The room was filled with white roses—thousands of them. They smelled cloying now, like a funeral parlor.

I hadn't cried. I don't think I could. The shock was a physical weight, pressing down on my lungs, making it hard to breathe. I had taken off the veil, but I was still in the gown. I couldn't summon the energy to unzip it.

My wolf was silent, curled into a ball of misery in the back of my mind. She was mourning. She knew, even if I didn't want to admit it yet, that the bond was tarnished. Maybe broken.

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness hit me. The room spun, and bile rose in my throat. I rushed to the adjoining bathroom, barely making it to the sink before I dry-heaved, my body trembling violently.

I gripped the cold porcelain, gasping for air. What was wrong with me? Stress? Shock?

Then, I smelled it.

It was faint at first, hidden beneath the scent of expensive perfume and dying roses. But as I took a deep breath, it filled my senses, rich and undeniable. Sweet milk. Warm honey. The scent of new life.

My hand flew to my stomach. My heart stopped, then restarted with a frantic, terrified beat.

*Pregnant.*

My wolf lifted her head, sniffing the air, and let out a soft, mournful whine. *Pup. Our pup.*

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Pale skin, hollow eyes, a crown of diamonds still pinned to my hair. I was carrying the Alpha's heir.

Jonas didn't know. He had left before I could tell him. He had left me to save a girl who used suicide as a bargaining chip.

A terrifying clarity washed over me. If I stayed, if I told him, he would be happy. He would claim me, mark me, and we would raise this child. But Amoura would always be there. He had proven today, in front of the world, that her weakness mattered more to him than my strength. Her manipulation mattered more than our fate.

My child would grow up watching their father run to another woman every time she cried. My child would learn that love was secondary to guilt.

"No," I whispered to the empty room. My voice was shaking, but my hands, resting over my flat stomach, were steady.

I couldn't do that to my child. And I wouldn't do it to myself.

I stood up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I reached back and unzipped the dress, letting the heavy silk pool on the floor like a puddle of milk. I stepped out of it, stepping out of the life I had thought I wanted.

I wasn't just a scorned bride anymore. I was a mother. And for the sake of the life growing inside me, I had to leave.