The Day My Son Died, I Rejected My Alpha Husband

Kira POV:

I returned to the house I shared with Dorian, the cold and luxurious mansion known throughout the Pack as the "Alpha House."

Aiden's room was just down the hall. The door remained closed. I stood there for a long time, but my hand never touched the handle.

I turned away and walked into the master bedroom.

Dorian's scent still filled the room, a mix of ice and winter mint. It used to be the scent I searched for when I needed comfort. Now it only made the room feel colder.

I removed my clothes, still carrying the smell of antiseptic and death, and stepped into the shower. The water poured over me, almost painfully hot, but I barely reacted.

When I looked up, my reflection in the mirror looked unfamiliar. My face was pale, my green eyes dull from exhaustion. The mate mark on my neck, the mark Dorian left when he claimed me, burned against my skin like a reminder of everything I had lost.

According to Pack law, the mate bond allowed partners to sense each other's strongest emotions. My grief was impossible to hide.

Dorian had felt it. He had simply chosen not to care.

He returned after midnight. The moment the door opened, the smell of whiskey and gardenias filled the room.

Genevieve's scent.

Dorian stumbled inside, his eyes landing on me. There was no concern in his expression, only irritation. "What are you still doing awake? Who are you trying to frighten with that face?"

"Aiden is dead." My voice was flat.

Dorian gave a cold laugh as he loosened his tie and threw it aside. "I know he's dead. But the Pack still needs to function. I need a Luna who can handle her responsibilities, not someone who spends all day crying."

I stared at him. "So you will fulfill those responsibilities with Genevieve?"

His expression darkened.

He stepped closer, and his Alpha pressure filled the room, forcing my body to tense. "Genevieve is better than you in every way. She knows how to support me instead of creating more problems."

His hand closed around my chin, forcing me to look at him.

His blue eyes were cold. "Remember your place, Kira. You are an Omega. I made you Luna. I can give you everything, and I can take everything away."

I only looked at the man standing before me. The man I once loved. Now he was nothing but a stranger wearing a familiar face.

My silence seemed to anger him even more. He pushed me away.

I stumbled backward, my hip crashing into the corner of the vanity. Pain shot through my body.

A picture frame fell from the table and shattered on the floor. Inside was Aiden's photo, taken last summer by the lake, his face bright with the smile I would never see again.

The memory came rushing back.

Aiden laughing as he played in the shallow water. Leo, one year older, sneaking behind him and forcing his head underwater.

I had screamed and pulled my terrified son from the lake.

Genevieve had only stood there with that gentle smile. "Boys will be boys."

Dorian believed her. He blamed me for overreacting and frightening Leo.

I knew it then.

Genevieve and her son were not innocent. And Dorian had chosen to protect them.

A voice suddenly entered my mind through the private mind-link. It was Zoe, my best friend and the only person in the Pack who still stood by me.

"Kira, are you okay? I heard..."

I immediately closed the connection. I didn't want Zoe to see this, or anyone to see me like this.

Dorian was already lying on the bed with his back toward me. Within minutes, his breathing became slow and steady.

On the night our son died, he slept peacefully.

I slowly knelt down and picked up the broken frame. Carefully, I removed the photograph from the shattered glass and brushed my thumb over Aiden's smiling face. A sharp shard sliced my finger, and a drop of blood fell onto the photo, staining his smile red.

I didn't react.

That pain was nothing compared to losing him.

I pressed the photo against my chest, feeling the cold locket containing Aiden's ashes resting against my skin.

Dorian Sinclair. Genevieve Wallace.

I would make them pay for what they had done.

I stood by the window, staring into the dark sky outside. Dawn was coming.