“Please… please Moon Goddess, let it happen this time…!”
I leaned over the cracked sill of my apartment window, not even daring to breathe too hard.
The night sky outside was clear and black, but inside the ceramic bowl filled with spring water, the reflection of the full moon slowly split into two glowing hemispheres.
Holy hell…it's real?! I'm really pregnant?!
According to the ancient traditions, if a female wolf was carrying a baby, the reflected moonlight would fracture under the gravitational effect of the pup’s aura.
For three years, that reflection had remained stubbornly complete, mocking me while I endured endless cycles of bitter herbal tonics, invasive injections, and painful fertility treatments.
A rush of happiness flooded my chest, so intense that my wolf gave a joyful howl. Tears prickled behind my eyelids as I pressed my trembling palms against my flat stomach.
I could already imagine Harrison’s golden eyes lighting up with happiness and adoration when I told him. He was not only the commanding Alpha of the Silvercrest Pack, but also the powerful CEO of Hartwood Global Enterprises, carrying the weight of both worlds on his shoulders.
He had wanted an heir for so long…
I slept fitfully, barely managing to get a few hours of sleep. If it wasn't necessary to wait until morning to get my first prenatal check-up, I would have rushed out at midnight and gotten my maternity file opened by 12:15.
Without bothering to wake up the driver at 9 AM on a Sunday, I directly hailed a cab to the Grenwell Memorial Hospital.
The smell sterile antiseptic, along with faint traces of pine, copper, and eucalyptus from all the resting wolves, tickled my hypersensitive nose. I walked briskly up to the registration desk, my fingers clasped tightly together over my purse.
The receptionist, a neatly groomed beta nurse with warm brown eyes, looked up and smiled pleasantly. "Good morning. Are you here to register for prenatal care?"
"Yes, I am," I beamed from behind my mask.
"Name, please?"
"Vivian Hartwood."
She tapped her keyboard, her nails clacking rhythmically. "And your mate's name?"
"Harrison Hartwood," I said, my voice full of quiet pride. "Rank Alpha."
The nurse’s fingers froze instantly over the keys. She lifted her head, her brown eyes widening with sudden, profound respect. "Alpha Hartwood... Heavens. Congratulations, Luna. Is it your first pup?"
"Yes, it is," I answered softly, warmth blooming through my ribs.
She turned back to her monitor to finish the intake form, typing quickly. But as she clicked through the system, the smile melted off her face. Her brows furrowed together into a deep frown. She leaned closer to the bright screen, squinting, then glanced up at me with a distinctly strange expression.
"Miss... are you entirely sure about the details you have provided me?"
I blinked in surprise, tilting my head. "Yes, of course. Why? Is there an issue with the system?"
The nurse lowered her hands from the keyboard, folding them together on the counter. Her voice had dropped its respectful tone, turning stiff and cool. "Actually, there is already an active maternity file established under Alpha Harrison Hartwood's name. And as you must know, there cannot be two mates registered to one person."
The air left my lungs in an abrupt wheeze. "What?"
The look in the nurse’s eyes changed drastically, turning cold, judgmental, and distinctly disdainful. It was clear what she was thinking—that I was just some shameless low-ranking wolf trying to use the Alpha’s prestigious name to cut the queue and claim VIP priority treatment.
"Are you sure you gave me the correct rank and spelling, miss?" she asked, her voice dripping with thinly veiled skepticism.
I shook my head vigorously, clutching the edge of the granite counter. "Of course I did! I’m his wife! I don't understand..."
"Well," the nurse said, tapping a polished fingernail against the screen, "this account was just created two weeks ago for his mate. So unless—"
"That’s impossible!" My voice cracked with rising panic. "There must be some mistake! My husband, he... he and I have been mates for five years! We went before the elders, we got ourselves officially registered, and—"
"Ma'am, the system doesn't lie," the nurse cut in coldly, her dismissive tone like a slap to my cheek. She slid my insurance card back across the desk.
"I’m sorry, but I can't help you here. If you have administrative disputes, take them up with pack administration."
"Please, just look again—"
Before I could finish, a heavily pregnant wolf behind me shoved forcefully past, her elbow slamming hard into my shoulder.
"Move aside if you're not checked in, some of us actually have appointments.”
I stumbled back, my shoulder throbbing. Looking at the sneering receptionist and the irritated patients in line, I realized with a sense of dread that nothing I said here would change anything.
It has to be an administrative error, I told myself frantically, my fingers shaking as I gathered my purse. In modern times, finding a true fated mate by divine destiny was exceptionally rare. Most wolves went before the Werewolf Council to formally request the sacred status of chosen mates, undergoing an ancient ritual where the presiding officiant bound their souls together.
Harrison could never betray me. We had stood together on that altar five years ago. I vividly remembered the thrilling rush of electric heat that had flooded my veins the moment the officiant declared us mates, the heavy pull that linked his heartbeat to mine. It was a bond I felt deep within my heart and soul every single day. How could he possibly have another mate? If he had touched another female, my bond would have burned, wouldn't it? I would have felt the tear in our connection!
Determined to clear this horrific clerical error, I turned toward the elevators. I would go straight to the Pack Clerk’s office on the administrative floor, pull our original registry papers, and prove the hospital records were wrong.
Ding.
The elevator chime sounded, and the polished silver doors slid open.
I took half a step forward, and my entire world slammed to a dead, frozen halt.
Standing right in the center of the elevator was Harrison.
My breath caught painfully in my throat. His familiar, intoxicating scent—dark mahogany, rich bourbon, and crisp cedarwood—drifted out into the corridor, instantly making my wolf whine. He looked breathtakingly handsome in his tailored charcoal suit, his golden amber eyes gleaming with an intensity that always made my knees weak.
His eyes swept over me for a fraction of a second, completely empty, before he looked down at the woman standing beside him.
It was Isadora.
She was dressed in a lavish silk dress, laughing up at him with sparkling emerald eyes. Harrison was gazing down at her with an expression of pure, unadulterated adoration—a look so intensely loving it made my stomach violently churn. "I completely agree, sweetheart," he murmured softly. His large, familiar hand was possessively resting on her slender waist. With his other hand, he was gently, tenderly stroking the slight swell of her belly.
He didn't even recognize me. He didn't even notice I was standing there.
The heavy metal doors began to slide shut between us. At the last second, my trembling hand brushed the sensor, forcing the doors to bounce back open.
Harrison frowned slightly in mild annoyance at the delay, looking up. "Miss, aren't you going to get in?" he asked casually, his deep, commanding voice utterly indifferent.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, deafening in my ears. Under my cloth mask, my lips were trembling so hard I could barely form words. Then I remembered—between the oversized mask, my loose hair, and my plain clothes, he couldn't see my face. And my scent was completely buried beneath the thick medicinal disinfectant filling the hallway.
"O-oh... yes, yes," I stammered, keeping my head ducked low as I stepped into the corner of the elevator car.
The descent was pure torture. I stood there, invisible, watching the man I had loved for five years whisper sweet, intimate promises into another woman's ear, laughing softly as she playfully nudged his chest. Every word was a dagger driving straight through my chest.
When the doors opened at the ground floor, they stepped out arm-in-arm. Numb with shock, my legs moved on their own. I followed them out of the building and watched them slide into Harrison’s sleek black Maybach.
I immediately flagged a taxi, begging the driver to follow the luxury car through the busy city streets. We drove across town to the exclusive financial district, stopping outside The Obsidian—the most upscale, members-only lounge in the territory, where pack alphas and wealthy executives mingled away from prying eyes.
Pulling my mask tight, I slipped through the lavish foyer behind a group of arriving patrons. Harrison’s dark cedar scent was thick in the air, leading me down a dimly lit, carpeted hallway lined with private VIP suites.
I paused right outside the heavy mahogany door of Room 8, where loud laughter and clinking glasses filtered through the seam.
"Come on, Harrison!" a loud, familiar voice boomed from inside. It was Marcus, Harrison’s pack beta and closest childhood friend. "Aren't you ever going to thank me? If I hadn't made you drink so damn much on my birthday last year, you never would have gotten that final push to be with Isa! Look at you two now. You guys are so damn compatible, such a perfect match."
I pressed my back against the cold wall, my vision swimming.
Marcus's birthday... That was exactly one year ago. The night Harrison came home late, reeking of expensive alcohol, claiming he had just crashed in a guest suite. They had slept together that night. They had been sleeping together for an entire year right under my nose.
"She's carrying the true Hartwood heir now, Marcus," Harrison’s deep voice answered, brimming with unmasked pride. "The moment the pregnancy was confirmed two weeks ago, I made sure she was officially registered as my Luna."
Laughter erupted in the room, followed by another friend's teasing voice: "Man, but what about that little charity case Vivian? You still keeping her in that apartment?"
Harrison let out a low, dismissive chuckle that shattered every remaining piece of my soul. "Vivian was never going to pass my mother’s standards, let alone the pack council's. She’s an orphan with weak lineage, completely unworthy of being an Alpha’s mate. I only staged that fake ceremony to keep her obedient and by my side until I found someone suitable. That officiant was just a hired actor from out of state."
"And the mate bond she brags about?" someone else snickered.
"A cheap binding charm," Harrison said flatly. "Dark magic forbidden by the council, but enough to simulate the illusion of a spiritual pull. It kept her quiet for five years while I built my empire."
Coldness spread through my veins, freezing the blood in my heart.
Five years. Every sweet whisper, every gentle touch, every vow we had exchanged on that sunlit altar—all of it was a calculated, filthy lie. The bond I had cherished with every fiber of my being was nothing more than an illegal parlor trick bought to keep a lowborn girl trapped in his bed until a highborn heiress came along.
Through the crack in the heavy door, I looked inside.
Isadora was sitting on Harrison's lap at the card table, staring down at a losing hand with a sad, exaggerated pout on her painted lips. "Oh, Harrison, I lost again!" she whined softly.
Harrison smiled down at her with absolute adoration. Cupping her chin in his broad hand, he pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss right in front of all his cheering friends to comfort her, his fingers lovingly caressing the nape of her neck.
Standing in the cold, shadowed hallway, clutching my stomach where our secret child rested, the last glowing ember of love in my chest went completely, silently dark.
My heart died right then and there.