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Rejected While Carrying His Heir Novel Cover

Rejected While Carrying His Heir

I am the Luna of the Blood Moon Pack, but my title feels like a cruel, twisted joke. I suffer from a curse no healer can fix: Wolf-Human Dissonance. While my inner wolf burns with absolute devotion for my fated mate, my human lips are cursed to speak only venom. The wooden wolf totem felt heavy in my palms. I had spent months meticulously carving it for our Marking Anniversary, pouring every ounce of my silent love into the intricate fur and sharp eyes. When Dominic walked into our bedroom that morning, the dark circles under his eyes made my chest ache. My inner wolf, Lyra, wagged her tail frantically, pacing at the forefront of my mind. *Mate!* she purred, her spirit practically vibrating with joy. *Tell him we love him! Happy anniversary!* I smiled softly, stepping forward to hand him the gift.
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Chapter 4

The door to the VIP suite crashed open, splintering against the wall. Light flooded the dim room, blinding me as I lay curled in a pool of my own blood.

Mila Graham stood in the doorway, her hands flying to her mouth in a performance worthy of an Academy Award. Parker Russell stood behind her, his face twisted in mock horror.

"Oh my Goddess!" Mila shrieked, her voice shrill enough to shatter glass. "Dominic! Come quickly! She's tried to kill him!"

Alpha Darren was already scrambling to his feet, clutching his bleeding eye. He looked at me with pure venom, then turned his gaze to the door, transforming instantly from predator to victim. "Your Luna has gone mad, Russell! I was merely toasting to our alliance, and she attacked me like a rabid animal!"

Thunder rumbled outside, shaking the floorboards beneath my broken body. Then, a heavier presence filled the room. The air grew dense, charged with ozone and fury.

Dominic stepped over the threshold.

He didn't look at the blood pooling between my legs. He didn't smell the scent of death and lost life that choked the air—or perhaps the metallic stench of Darren's wound masked it all. His eyes locked onto the scratches on Darren’s face, then snapped to me.

There was no concern in his gaze. No love. Only a cold, bottomless disgust.

"Is this true?" Dominic’s voice was dangerously quiet. "Did you attack our guest?"

I tried to push myself up, my arms trembling violently. *He killed our baby!* I screamed in my head. *He tried to force himself on me! Dominic, please, look at me!*

My lips parted. I fought the curse with every ounce of strength I had left. I needed to tell him about the empty womb, the tiny heart that had stopped beating because of his order.

"He..." I choked out.

Dominic waited, his jaw clenched.

"...He wasn't worth the effort," my cursed voice sneered, the words dripping with arrogant malice. "I should have aimed for his throat."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Dominic closed his eyes. When he opened them, the last flicker of the man I loved was gone. "You are a monster," he whispered. "Jealousy has rotted your soul, Daphne."

He turned his back on me. "Get this traitor out of my sight. Drag her to the northern border. She can rot in the rain until I decide whether to execute her or exile her."

Two warriors stepped forward, grabbing me by my arms. I screamed in agony as they hauled me up, my shattered ribs grinding together. They didn't care. They dragged me out of the suite, leaving a trail of red smeared across the expensive carpet.

They threw me into the back of a truck like a sack of garbage. The drive to the border was a blur of pain and darkness. When the truck finally stopped, they yanked me out and dumped me into the mud. The rain was falling in sheets now, freezing and relentless.

"Don't move," one warrior spat. "Alpha will deal with you at dawn."

They drove off, leaving me alone in the storm.

I lay in the mud, the cold seeping into my bones. I could feel the pack link buzzing in the back of my mind. I could feel Dominic’s presence there—a warm, steady hum that I had clung to for years. But now, it was poisoned. Through the link, I could feel waves of his concern for Mila, his excitement for the fake child she carried.

He was mourning nothing while I lay dying with his dead heir inside me.

*I can't do this anymore,* Lyra whimpered, her voice fading.

If I stayed, I died. If I went back, I died.

I closed my eyes and reached into the deepest part of my mind. I found the thick, golden cord that tethered my soul to Dominic’s. It pulsed with the heartbeat of the Blood Moon Pack.

*I reject this,* I thought, tears finally mixing with the rain on my face. *I reject the pain. I reject the lie.*

I wrapped my mental claws around the bond.

*Sever.*

I pulled.

The pain was blinding—worse than the ribs, worse than the miscarriage. It felt like I was ripping my own heart out of my chest. I screamed, a raw, guttural sound that was lost in the thunder.

*SNAP.*

The golden cord shattered.

Miles away, back at the pack house, I felt a sudden jolt of confusion and pain through the fading remnants of the connection. I knew Dominic had stumbled. I knew he felt the void open up in his chest. But I didn't wait to feel his reaction.

The backlash hit me, forcing a shift. My bones cracked and reshaped, fur sprouting over my bruised skin. I was no longer Daphne. I was a wolf—thin, matted, and weak, but free.

I ran.

I scrambled toward the ravine that marked the edge of the territory. My paws slipped in the mud, every step sending jolts of fire through my abdomen. I could hear howls in the distance—the patrol realizing I was gone.

I didn't look back. I threw myself down the rocky slope, sliding and tumbling until I hit the rushing water of the river. I swam, fighting the current, clawing my way up the opposite bank.

Silver Mist territory.

I took three steps onto the mossy ground and collapsed. My legs gave out. The world spun into gray static. I couldn't breathe. The darkness was coming for me, and this time, I welcomed it.

Then, a scent cut through the rain. Pine needles and sage.

Warm hands touched my soaking fur. I flinched, expecting a blow, expecting Darren’s boot or Dominic’s scorn.

"Easy, little wolf," a deep voice murmured. It wasn't an Alpha command. It was a plea.

I forced my heavy eyes open. A man knelt in the mud beside me. He had kind eyes the color of forest moss. He didn't look at me with disgust. He looked at me with... sorrow.

"Alpha, she's a rogue," another voice warned from the trees. "She's covered in blood."

"She's a Luna," the man said softly, his hand hovering over my snout. "And she is broken."

He didn't wait for permission. He scooped my wolf form up into his arms, pressing me against his chest. He didn't care that my blood and mud were ruining his expensive coat.

"Radio the healers," he commanded, turning back toward the trees. "Tell them to prepare surgery. Now."

I let my head fall against his shoulder. As the rhythm of his heartbeat lulled me into the dark, I realized for the first time in years, I wasn't afraid.

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