Regret: Rejecting His Billionaire Supreme Mate

I spent three months in Zurich securing banking rights for my family's pack. I couldn't wait to give my five-year-old daughter, Lily, the rare Starlight Moonstone Beast I’d bought to soothe her shifting pains.

But before I landed, I saw a photo online: my husband's "distant nephew" was playing with that very toy in my living room.

I rushed to the Pack Academy, only to find a teacher raising a riding crop laced with wolfsbane against my child.

Instead of protecting us, my husband, Austyn, stepped out with a woman wearing my furs and my grandmother’s emerald necklace.

He told the gathered crowd I was a mental patient having a delusion.

He hugged his mistress and announced she was the true Luna, claiming our marriage was a mistake and publicly rejecting our bond.

For five years, I had suppressed my Supreme Alpha aura to let him feel powerful, funding his lifestyle and building his reputation.

In return, he brainwashed my pack, abused my daughter, and tried to cast me out as a beggar in my own queendom.

He thought he had won because he believed his own lies about my weakness.

But when his illegitimate son threw a rock that drew blood from my daughter’s face, my patience snapped.

I stopped suppressing my scent, and my eyes turned molten gold.

"This is not a dispute, Austyn. This is an execution."

Chapter 1

Kimberly POV:

The air in Zurich was crisp, smelling of money and old snow, but my mind was thousands of miles away. I'd been gone for three months. What started as a simple banking negotiation had turned into a grueling diplomatic tour to secure the Miller Pack's European assets. I stood in the private viewing room of the auction house, holding the box that had cost me days of agonizing negotiations. Inside lay the Starlight Moonstone Beast.

It was a plush creature, but woven with threads soaked in moon water and stuffed with crushed calming herbs. It was a relic, the only thing known to soothe the bone-breaking agony of a high-blooded pup's first shifts. My daughter, Lily, had been complaining of joint pain lately. Her blood was powerful. It was waking up early.

I just wanted to go home.

I pulled out my phone, intending to check the nursery cameras one last time before boarding the jet. A notification from Instagram popped up. It was a post from a local socialite in our territory back in America.

The caption read: The Little Prince enjoying his new toy. So regal!

My blood turned to ice.

The photo showed a boy. Jaylin. He was the five-year-old son of a "distant cousin" my husband, Austyn, had insisted we take in. Jaylin was sitting on the velvet sofa in my living room. In his hands, he held a Starlight Moonstone Beast.

Not just any beast. The beast. The one I had commissioned a month ago as a prototype. The one that was supposed to be locked in my safe until I returned.

My thumb trembled as I switched apps to the nursery camera. The screen was black. Connection error.

Austyn, I called out through our Mind-Link. Austyn, answer me.

Silence. The mental pathway was fuzzy, like trying to tune a radio through static. He was blocking me. He'd been distant for weeks, blaming it on stress, but this felt deliberate.

I dialed the landline of the pack house. No answer. I dialed the nanny. Straight to voicemail. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at my throat. I switched to the emergency video feed in the hallway, a hidden camera Austyn didn't know about.

The image flickered to life.

My breath hitched. Lily was there. My beautiful, five-year-old Lily. She was curled into a ball in the corner of the hallway, her small hands covering her head.

A shadow loomed over her. It was Ms. Albright, the headmistress of the Pack Academy.

"You ungrateful little thief!" Ms. Albright's voice was tinny through the speaker, but the venom was clear. "That toy belongs to Master Jaylin! Austyn made it clear-a mixed-blood runt like you doesn't get to touch holy artifacts!"

Lily sobbed, her body jerking. "It... it was Mommy's... she said..."

"Your mother is a sick woman in a facility!" Ms. Albright screamed. "She's not coming back!"

I saw purple bruises on Lily's arms. The distinct shape of fingers.

A low, guttural sound ripped from my chest. It wasn't human. My Inner Wolf, a dormant beast I had suppressed for five years to make Austyn feel powerful, woke up. She didn't just wake up; she exploded.

KILL THEM.

I didn't pack. I didn't say goodbye to the dignitaries. I sprinted to the tarmac, my heels clicking like gunshots against the pavement.

"Fly," I commanded the pilot the second the door sealed. "Now."

The flight felt like an eternity, though it was supersonic. When we landed on the private strip at the edge of the Miller territory, I didn't wait for the car. I shifted.

My bones cracked and reshaped, a pain I usually welcomed, but today I was too numb to feel it. I ran through the forest, a blur of white and grey, tearing through the underbrush until the lights of the Pack Academy came into view. I shifted back behind the gymnasium, throwing on the spare clothes I kept in my emergency cache.

I could smell it before I opened the door. The scent of fear. My daughter's fear.

I moved like a ghost. Being a high-ranking Alpha meant you didn't just have strength; you had absolute control. I suppressed my scent, masking my presence entirely.

I reached the kindergarten classroom door. It was slightly ajar.

"Hold out your hand," Ms. Albright commanded.

I peeked through the crack. Lily was shaking, her palm extended. Ms. Albright held a riding crop. The tip glistened with a greenish liquid.

Wolfsbane.

They were using diluted wolfsbane on a child. On my child. It caused a burning sensation that felt like fire on the skin of a werewolf.

"This will teach you your place, you dirty little liar," the teacher spat. She raised her arm.

I didn't think. I kicked the door open. The wood splintered, the hinges screaming as the heavy oak slab slammed against the wall.

The teacher turned, her eyes widening. She brought the crop down, not stopping.

I crossed the room in a blur. My hand shot out and caught the riding crop inches from Lily's palm. The leather bit into my skin, and the wolfsbane sizzled against my flesh, but I didn't flinch.

Ms. Albright gasped, trying to yank the weapon back. I held it fast.

"You," she sneered, recognizing me. Her fear vanished, replaced by arrogance. "The crazy nanny returns. I heard you escaped the psych ward."

"Mommy!" Lily screamed, scrambling off the stool and burying her face in my stomach.

I dropped the crop and wrapped my arms around her. She smelled of tears and terror.

"You have five seconds," I said, my voice terrifyingly calm, "to explain why you are holding a weapon laced with poison against my daughter."

Ms. Albright laughed. It was a nervous, high-pitched sound. "Poison? It's discipline. And she's not your daughter, you delusional stray. She's a charity case, just like you."

"Call the Enforcers," I said. "Now."

"Oh, I don't need to," Ms. Albright smirked, looking past me toward the door. "The Luna is already here."

I stiffened. Luna? I was the Luna. I was the heiress of the Miller Pack.

I turned around.

Standing in the doorway was a woman. She had blonde hair styled in perfect waves. She was wearing a white coat made of pristine Arctic Fox fur-a coat my father had given me for my twenty-first birthday.

It was Evalena Dotson. A woman Austyn had sworn was just an old college friend down on her luck.

She walked in, her hips swaying. A cloud of perfume hit me-roses and vanilla. It was strong. Too strong. It was the kind of scent designed to mask something rotten underneath.

"What is going on here?" Evalena asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness. She looked at me, and her eyes flashed with triumph. "Oh, dear. The nanny is back. Austyn warned me she might break out."