The Alpha's Rejected Heir: A Mother's Revenge
My husband claimed he brought the surrogate into our bed to save my life. He said the Hatfield Curse killed every Alpha female in childbirth, so he needed another vessel for his heir. He swore it was just a clinical duty.
But when he intercepted the "rogue" I was desperately trying to smuggle out of the pack lands, his duty turned into slaughter.
Archie stood over the burlap sack that held my secret four-year-old son. He believed his mistress’s lie that the sack contained a dangerous weapon.
I screamed until my throat bled, telling him it was his own flesh and blood inside.
Archie just sneered, calling me insane. He raised his heavy military boot and stomped down hard.
I heard the sickening crunch of small ribs snapping.
A tiny, wheezing voice drifted from the flattened sack.
"Pa... pa..."
Archie froze for a second, but paranoia won. He stomped again, crushing the last breath out of our child.
He ordered the "rogue trash" to be thrown to the scavengers and cast me into the dungeon to be torn apart by feral wolves.
He thought he had saved the pack. He didn't know he had just murdered the only son who had survived the curse.
I didn't die in that cell. I let the ocean take me, only to be pulled out by his greatest rival.
Now, three months later, I’m walking back into his life. Not as his wife, but as his executioner.
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Chapter 2
Karyme POV:
Morning light hit the dust motes in the dining room, mocking the stagnation inside.
I sat at the mahogany table, staring at cold eggs.
Last month, a rogue's wolfsbane blade had sliced my side open. I lay screaming in the clinic while the doctor scrubbed the wound without anesthesia. Archie held my hand. Until his phone buzzed.
"Faustina feels dizzy."
He dropped my hand. He left me bleeding to hold the hand of a woman who needed a glass of water.
The doors swung open.
Archie walked in, showered but exhausted. Beside him was Faustina. She wasn't in uniform. She wore a silk dress tight enough to show a bump that looked suspiciously large for three months.
She reeked of him. Not just proximity-she smelled like a claimed wolf.
Archie saw me and flinched. He turned to Faustina. "Kitchen. Supplements."
It was an Alpha Command. Faustina's knees buckled, but she smirked as she obeyed, leaving a trail of herbal perfume that smelled like rot masked by flowers.
Archie rushed to my side, dropping to his knees.
"You smell like her," I said.
"I scrubbed my skin raw," he pleaded. "Karyme, the Elders are watching. My father pressures me daily. Once the pup is born, she's gone."
"What about your vows?"
"I love your soul," Archie said, grabbing my face. "My body is just a tool. It's like lifting a heavy weight or running a patrol. It's duty."
"A tool," I repeated. It felt like ash in my mouth.
Faustina reappeared in the doorway with a glass of milk. She caught my eye and deliberately brushed her hair back, revealing a fresh, purple bruise on her neck. A love bite.
Archie followed my gaze and stiffened. "I told you to stay in the kitchen!"
"The baby needed air, Alpha," she cooed, releasing a sharp, challenging pheromone.
My wolf snarled. Kill her.
"Get out," Archie roared.
Faustina bowed and left, her victory absolute.
Archie buried his face in my lap. "I'm sorry. Six more months. Then we toss her to the rogues. Just give me an heir."
I looked at the dark hair I used to love.
"You've already lost me, Archie," I whispered.