Stolen Heart: An Alpha's Sin for His Mistress

I was thrown out of the main house and moved into the place Julian had arranged for us. It was a run-down shack on the edge of pack territory.

Wind whistled through gaps in the walls. There was only one torn mattress.

Meanwhile, Linda became the most honored woman in the pack. Because she had no werewolf abilities, Julian ordered everyone to accommodate her.

"Mommy, it's cold..."

Kyle was sick. Between the shock from last night and the wind howling through every crack in the walls, his small body couldn't take it.

His body burned with fever. The decrepit wooden house let in drafts from every direction. I wrapped our only blanket around him and even took off my jacket to layer on top, but I still couldn't stop his teeth from chattering.

He mumbled "Daddy" over and over, each word like a knife carving out a piece of my heart.

Werewolf pups had poor healing abilities. A high fever could kill them.

I had nothing, not even a single coin to buy a fever reducer from the clinic. I had no choice but to use the mind-link that existed in name only.

"Julian."

I tried to keep my voice steady, trying not to sound like I was begging.

"Kyle has a fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit. You're the Alpha. Even if you won't come yourself, can you at least have a Beta bring over some medicine?"

The link stayed silent for a full ten seconds before background noise filtered through. There was soft violin music, rustling of fabric, and a woman's laughter.

"I'm busy." Julian's voice came through like he was brushing off a telemarketer. "Linda's trying on evening gowns. This one's a bit tight around the waist. She's upset."

I looked down at my pup convulsing with fever in my arms. My nails dug into my palms.

"Julian! Kyle is your pup! He's burning up and going into convulsions! Just come see him. Please, just bring some medicine!"

"Shut up."

He cut me off, his voice dripping with disgust. "Ella, this attention-seeking tactic is pathetic. Linda's right. You always use Kyle as a bargaining chip. Stop bothering me, or I'll block you."

I didn't have time to deal with the pain stabbing through my head. I grabbed Kyle and rushed out of the shack.

The commercial district blazed with lights. Glass storefronts reflected my pathetic image back at me. My hair was disheveled, my eyes bloodshot, and my arms wrapped around my half-dead pup.

When I passed the steakhouse, my feet stopped as though weights had been tied to them.

Candlelight flickered through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Julian sat at the head of the table, carefully cutting into a medium-rare steak.

Linda wore that supposedly "too tight" designer gown, her cheeks flushed as she opened her mouth to accept a piece of meat Julian fed her. That tender and juicy piece of meat probably cost half a year of my living expenses.

Linda said something that made Julian laugh indulgently. He'd given me the same kind of tenderness three years ago too. Now he saved his warmth for that human and left nothing but cruelty for his own flesh and blood.

I didn't go inside to humiliate myself further. Instead, I turned toward the pharmacy and begged the clerk to accept my expired spirit stone ring in exchange for the cheapest fever reducer they had.

The next morning, someone knocked on our rickety door. Julian and Linda stood on the doorstep.

Julian wore a tailored suit, his brow furrowed, as if the stale air might contaminate him. Linda clung to his arm with an elegant pastry box in her other hand, her expression perfectly guilty.

"Ella, yesterday was my fault." Linda's voice was sweet and soft.

"I didn't know Kyle was so sick. If I had, I would've made Julian come right away."

She held out the pastry box. The logo of the most expensive bakery in the commercial district was printed on top.

"Julian specially bought this Black Forest cake. We thought since Kyle's sick and everything probably tastes bitter, something sweet might help."

I stared at the box. All I wanted was to throw it into the mud.

"Take it." Julian's tone was flat. "Linda's being kind. Don't be ungrateful."

With that, he wrapped his arm around Linda and turned to leave. He didn't even glance at Kyle, huddled in the corner of the bed. That retreating figure was so final, as if we weren't his family but trash waiting to be disposed of.

I wanted to throw the cake away.

"Mommy..." A weak voice called from behind me.

Kyle's fever had barely broken. He stared at the pretty box, swallowing hard.

Ever since we'd been thrown out, he hadn't had a decent meal. My nose stung. All my pride crumbled in the face of my pup's hunger.

"Go ahead. Eat."

Kyle devoured the cake, cream smeared across his mouth, showing his first smile in days.

After he finished the last bite, Kyle licked his fingers reluctantly. Then he carefully reached under the mattress and pulled out the flower crown, half-burned and blackened, the woven grass barely holding together.

He held it like a priceless treasure, his eyes bright as he looked at me. His voice was small but full of hope.

"Mommy, Daddy bought me cake. Does that mean he forgives me? When I get better, I'll fix the broken parts and give him the crown again.

"I'll tell him these are my favorite flowers. Daddy will accept it this time, right?"

As I looked into Kyle's innocent, trusting eyes, my throat tightened. My heart felt like it was splitting open. He had no idea that in his beloved father's eyes, he was worthless.

All I could do was hold back my tears and lie with a nod.