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 3
Karyme POV:
"If I ever touch her with anything other than duty, may Silver pierce my heart," Archie swore in the moonlight.
I covered his mouth. "Don't make vows you can't keep."
He handed me a glass of warm milk. It smelled of honey and potent valerian root.
"Drink," he urged. "It will help you rest."
He was drugging me so he wouldn't feel my pain through the bond when he went to her.
I faked a swallow, holding the liquid in my cheeks. "Good girl," he whispered, tucking me in.
Ten minutes later, he slipped out.
I spat the milk into a potted plant and crept to the door. He wasn't going to the kitchen. He was heading to the Guest Wing.
I followed.
Faustina sat on her bed, sobbing. "It hurts, Archie! My leg..."
Archie sat beside her. "Let me see."
A scratch. Nothing.
"Please," she whimpered.
My stomach dropped as Archie bent his head and licked the wound. Saliva heals, yes. But licking is intimate. It's caretaking.
"Better?" he asked.
"Much better," she purred, tangling her fingers in his hair. "Maybe... maybe I can stay? As a nanny?"
Archie sighed. "We will see. I will give you a place in the Pack."
I slid down the hallway wall. A place in the Pack.
My phone vibrated. Encrypted text.
Safe house compromised. Traces of the cub found. Moving Jalen tonight.
Jalen.
I stifled a sob. Four years ago, I hid my pregnancy. I birthed him alone in a winter cabin, biting a leather strap to stay silent. He was born early. Small. Weak wolf spirit. If Archie had seen him-a scrawny thing-he would have seen the curse and rejected him.
So I hid him.
I looked at the text. We need to move Jalen.
Archie was staying in that room. Good.
I had a son to save. And saving him meant leaving my mate.