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The Alpha's Secret Heir He Publicly Denied Novel Cover

The Alpha's Secret Heir He Publicly Denied

The Alpha of the Munoz Pack, Damien Munoz, was suddenly accused by the werewolf media of having a secret mate bond and a pup. He quickly issued a public denial. "There is no mate bond, nor is there a pup," he declared, his alpha tone resonating with authority. "Everyone knows I have been unmated all these years." I watched his impassive face on the screen, the screen that now felt like a barrier between us, between the truth and the lie he so effortlessly spun. Then, I glanced at my daughter, Isabela, who sat quietly on the floor, her tiny shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Her confusion and pain mirrored my own. Years of hope, of silent battles and quiet endurance, vanished in an instant. When he returned to the packhouse, I didn’t rush out with Isabela to greet him as I once did. Nor did I feel the usual flutter of excitement, that sense of joy from a reunion after a brief absence. Instead, I reviewed a few messages I had received, each one a dagger to the bond we once shared.
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Chapter 3

A week later, Alpha Damien returned from his pack business. It was already ten at night when his car pulled into the driveway of the Munoz Pack estate. In the past, no matter how late he arrived, Isabela and I would always wait up for him. But tonight, my pup had already had her bath and gone to bed, her soft breathing a steady rhythm in the quiet house.

I wasn’t in the master suite; instead, I had taken refuge in the guest room on the second floor. As the familiar rumble of his engine approached, I stood on the balcony, my fingers trembling as I reopened the message I had received six days ago—a document confirming a vasectomy. Even now, the sight of it made my eyes sting with unshed tears.

“Laura, if you’re willing, just nod your head once. I will treat Isabela as my own. From now on, she’ll be my only daughter, no, my only pup.”

Kevin’s words echoed in my mind, lingering long after the screen had dimmed. The sound of Alpha Damien’s footsteps reached my ears—first ascending to the third-floor master suite, then descending to where I stood. He paused outside the guest room before knocking.

“Laura, open the door.”

I hastily wiped my tears and shoved my phone beneath the pillow. “I’m really trying to sleep. Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

But before I could finish, the door swung open. I froze for a moment, then remembered—this was the Alpha’s house. He had every right to enter any room he pleased.

“Why did you move to the guest room?” His voice carried a sharp edge, colder than usual. I slowly sat up and looked at him. After a long journey, weariness was etched into his features. He rubbed his temples as he spoke, his tone rough with fatigue.

I ignored the flicker of pity in my heart and averted my gaze. “I haven’t been feeling well these past few days. I didn’t want to risk passing anything on to you.”

“That doesn’t bother me. You should move back.”

He noticed I was still sitting on the bed, unmoving. His frown deepened. “Laura?”

“I’m really exhausted. You should get some sleep too...”

Alpha Damien didn’t reply but strode to the bed. Without warning, he leaned down and scooped me up into his arms.

“It’s been a week. Haven’t you missed me...?”

He began to lower his head to kiss me, but I turned away. Surprise flickered across his face, quickly replaced by displeasure.

“Laura Sanders.”

“What kind of tantrum are you throwing now?”

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