Chapter 1Our pup had just been kidnapped. But my Alpha mate spent the ransom money on his mistress instead.
"Stop faking it," he said. "You're just doing this for attention."
Then three days later? The kidnappers sent me my son's finger.
He's GONE.
So I stopped begging. Went to the pack clinic. Killed the other baby in my belly.
He wants drama? I'll give him drama!
I picked up the phone. Told the Elder Council who leaked our pup's location.
Guess who? His precious mistress.
Watch your back, Alpha.
I'm coming to take your fortune. Your territory.
And you two?
BURN TO ASH. NOW.
--
My world collapsed the second my pup vanished from the training camp—kidnappers demanded fifty million for his return.
So I called my Alpha mate, Soren Wolfhart—he ruled Silver Moon Pack.
But his answer nearly made my wolf nearly tore loose on the spot.
"Wren, quit the act." His voice cut like a blade. "It's Morgana's birthday. Can you not use Rowan for attention?"
On the other end, Morgana Ash's voice dripped with fake sweetness:
"Soren, Rowan's still your bloodline heir—the pup destined for the Alpha position. Your Luna wouldn't joke about this. Maybe—we should call the enforcers?"
I actually believed her then.
Pathetically stupid.
She didn't call anyone.
Instead, she sold the story to every damn media outlet—"Silver Moon Pack's heir kidnapped by Blood Rose Pack traitors."
Within hours, the entire wolf community exploded.
I panicked.
I got on my knees, begged those pack reporters—stop broadcasting, don't let those kidnappers know this blew up.
But Soren?
He just stood there. Cold. Watching like it was some boring show.
"Morgana's helping you. Stop being so dramatic, would you?"
Three days later.
Package arrived.
Kidnappers sent my son's finger—my Alpha pup heir's finger.
One tiny, blood-stained finger.
I stared at that mangled piece of flesh. My wolf just—exploded.
Chest felt like it got stabbed with a silver blade, metallic taste flooded my throat, vision went black.
I knew—Rowan's shifting ability was destroyed.
Even if he survived, he could never be Alpha now.
Outside, pack reporters' voices circled our territory like vultures:
"Breaking news! Silver Moon Pack's heir Rowan Wolfhart executed by Blood Rose Pack traitors!"
"After three days of searching, the Alpha pup didn't make it—"
"Elder Council's investigating, but killers vanished—"
Their voices buzzed in my ears like wasps.
I knew—if they hadn't broadcast this shit everywhere, Blood Rose Pack wouldn't have killed him this fast.
I promised them—fifty million. I'd pay.
But I didn't blame the pack reporters.
I hated Morgana—that bitch who leaked it on purpose.
I hated Soren more—Rowan's biological father, the Alpha who'd rather buy Morgana a mansion than save his own son.
Day one.
I begged him—don't let it spread through Pack Link, don't let Blood Rose Pack realize this spiraled out of control.
Just let me deliver the fifty million to their location. Rowan could still be saved.
But what'd he say?
"Wren, of course I'll save him. But fifty million isn't pocket change. Wait a bit longer."
Day two.
I listened—waited.
Result?
He bought Morgana a territory with a vacation estate—worth over a hundred million.
I nearly went feral.
"So Rowan's life means nothing to you?"
I screamed at him, wolf instincts barely contained. "That territory could've saved Rowan four times over!"
He kept that cold expression:
"Wren, don't overreact. Rowan's an Alpha pup—this little test won't kill him. Maybe he'll escape on his own."
"Those Blood Rose traitors won't dare hurt my son, Alpha Wolfhart's heir. And I told you—once I gather enough—"
I couldn't listen anymore.
"Gather enough?"
Soren was Silver Moon Pack's Alpha chief, controlling the entire territory's gold mines.
He could sell one mine. Rowan would live.
He just didn't want to.
Day three.
Soren completely disappeared.
I went crazy selling everything valuable—jewelry, furs, all those gifts he swore meant he'd cherish me forever.
Scraped together less than ten million.
I contacted Soren's business partners, begged them for loans.
Result?
Either hung up or said "Sorry, Luna, can't help."
Like—Soren already warned them off.
Bang bang bang—
Pack reporters started pounding the door.
I wiped my tears, found some gauze, carefully wrapped Rowan's little finger.
Then opened the door.
Dropped to my knees.
"Please—help me find Rowan's body."
My voice shook. "Stop reporting. I can't take it anymore. Don't make me see this again—"
I didn't have proof. Not really.
But I felt it. The bond between a mother and her pup—it doesn't just break. It screams.
Rowan's had gone silent.
That's how I knew.
Then I started slamming my head down.
Over and over.
Until my forehead split. Blood dripped down.
Until one reporter couldn't watch and pulled me up.
Then—
Soren came back.
Morgana on his arm, smiling like poison.
"Well, well."
He looked at me, eyes cold as ice. "Quite the show you've put on."
Chapter 2
Morgana showed up in bright red lipstick and a matching red bikini—like she'd just crawled off some beach.
She shoved through the crowd, got close to me, then suddenly shrieked—dove straight into Soren's arms, pointing at the gauze in my hand.
"Soren! What the hell is that? There's blood everywhere!"
I yanked my hand back instinctively.
Soren's eyes narrowed. Suspicious. He ripped the gauze out of my grip.
Unwrapped it.
Rowan's finger—bloody, mangled—fell into view.
Morgana screamed like she'd seen a ghost.
"What the fuck is this?" Soren's voice cut through the air, sharp and cold.
"It's your son's finger." My voice cracked, raw from crying. Tears blurred everything. "The Blood Rose traitors—they cut it off. Rowan's dead..."
But Soren's frown just—vanished.
Replaced by this mocking smirk.
"Wren, you've really outdone yourself this time, haven't you?"
"Hiring all these people to play along. Even making a fake finger model of our pup."
"Let me guess—I spend Morgana's birthday with her, trade some territory for peace, and you lose your shit?"
That's when it hit me.
Soren thought I'd been faking it from day one.
He never believed me. Not once.
Hearing it was supposedly fake, Morgana's fear evaporated. She snatched Rowan's finger from Soren's hand—waved it around like some damn trophy.
"Wow, Wren, which modeling factory did you use? This looks insanely real."
"My Barbie doll Soren got me is missing an arm. You should totally connect me with them."
"Look at this craftsmanship! They even got the bone texture right. A Barbie arm should be no problem."
I ignored her bullshit. Reached for it. Voice flat, dead.
"That's not a model. That's my son's finger. Give it back."
Suddenly Morgana acted all shocked—smile gone, brows furrowed. She hid behind Soren.
Voice turned whiny, pitiful.
"Soren, I thought you said your Luna was chill? Why's she getting so aggressive over a model finger? I was just curious."
Something inside me snapped.
My voice shook—then exploded.
"I said GIVE IT BACK!"
But she doubled down. Clutched that finger tight to her chest. Fake tears started streaming.
Seeing her cry, Soren shoved me.
Hard.
I hit the ground.
"Wren, enough with this bullshit!"
"Morgana thought the model looked cool. Stop pretending it's our pup's actual finger. Don't get carried away with your little act."
"I'm NOT acting! Give it BACK to me NOW!"
I screamed until my throat tore, metallic taste flooding my mouth.
Soren glared at me, eyes bloodshot.
"You know Morgana's got a good heart. When you called me that day, she cut her own birthday party short to help call the enforcers."
"These people aren't even from the outlets Morgana contacted. Those outlets said there was no story. They even chewed Morgana out for wasting their time—told her to verify shit before calling."
"If something really happened to our pup, why hasn't anyone contacted me through Pack Link? Why only you?"
"Wren, I know I've been distant from you and Rowan lately because of Pack business. I promise I'll make it up when he's back from training camp."
"Now dismiss these wolves you hired and quit embarrassing yourself."
"And dye that white hair back immediately. You're walking around looking like this? Pack members are gonna think I'm abusing my Luna. Makes me look bad."
Listening to him, I felt like I'd been thrown into freezing water.
Heart stuttering. Chest hollow.
I dragged myself up off the ground. Voice like gravel.
"I only want one thing. Give me back the finger."
They didn't move.
So I lunged.
Soren tried blocking me—but couldn't stop me completely.
Just as my fingers brushed Rowan's—
Morgana screamed. Panicked. Threw it.
The finger flew through the air—landed on the lawn.
I scrambled after it.
Covered in dirt. I tried brushing it clean—
Soren charged over. Ripped it from my hands.
Before I could react—
He threw it.
Far.
"If that's how it's gonna be, nobody gets it."
Splash.
Rowan's little finger hit the lake by the pack estate entrance.
Sank beneath the surface.
Gone.
Chapter 3
The moment Rowan's finger hit the water, I spun around—wolf instincts screaming—and dove in.
Didn't think. Just moved.
But I'd fucked up. The lake was deeper than I thought.
Water slammed into me. Couldn't breathe. Vision went black. Left with only survival instincts.
Then—nothing.
When I woke up, Soren was sitting by the bed. He'd changed out of that matching beach shit he wore with Morgana.
"For fuck's sake, can't you act like a grown woman? Jumping into a lake that deep?"
"Or did you forget you can't swim? Risking your life for some prop finger you used to mess with me? Was it worth it?"
He still thought it was fake.
Of course he did.
Only the media and I knew the truth. And not one of those pack reporters spoke up for me.
Suddenly I got it—they were scared of Soren.
Which meant—if Soren had stepped in when the media started broadcasting, he could've shut it down fast. Blood Rose Pack wouldn't have panicked. Wouldn't have killed Rowan.
Everything could've been stopped.
But none of that mattered now.
I spoke. Voice flat. Cold.
"Soren. I want out of this bond."
His eyes went wide. Then narrowed. Alpha authority flooding the room.
"Wren, you're pushing it."
"Over something this stupid, you want to break our bond?"
"You jealous? Think I was protecting Morgana?"
"She was in a bikini—if you'd grabbed her like that, she could've been exposed. That's why I stopped you."
"You're both she-wolves. Can't you understand each other? Why do you have to make things hard for her?"
Same answer. Always fucking the same.
In his eyes, Morgana could do no wrong. I was just some hysterical Omega.
But Morgana was the bitch who wormed her way into our bond. Then mocked me after my pup got murdered.
I was furious. But too drained to argue.
When I didn't respond, he tossed something on the bed.
Medical report.
"You're pregnant. Hormones spiking—that's why you're acting crazy. I get it. You can lash out at me. But don't drag innocent wolf into this."
"Have the pup. After that, I'll get you whatever you want."
"Remember how Rowan always wanted to vacation in Hawaii? Once the new pup's born, all four of us can go."
I almost laughed.
Soren. That future you're imagining? Never happening.
His phone rang. Morgana.
"Soren, how's your Luna doing? I feel awful about losing her finger prop. It's all my fault."
"I contacted the modeling factory to make her a new one. Hope she can forgive me."
Soren's mouth curved into this satisfied smirk. Looking right at me.
I knew what he wanted—for me to praise Morgana's kindness. Her generosity.
Her voice turned sugary. Coy.
"Um, could you come over? I've got good news to share."
After hanging up, Soren hesitated. Clearly scrambling for an excuse.
"Just go." I said it before he could.
"That's better. Take care of yourself."
Then he bolted.
The second he left, I grabbed a cab. Headed to the nearest pack clinic.
Scheduled the abortion.
Ten years bonded. Lost two pups now.
Lying on that table, I couldn't stop crying.
The pack healer saw my state—suggested I could stop if I wasn't ready.
I shook my head hard.
I loved both my pups. Really did.
But Rowan had just been murdered. Body still missing. And the Alpha responsible for all this? Currently tangled up with his mistress.
I needed time. Energy. To get justice for Rowan.
Couldn't let this unborn pup become leverage for Soren to use against me later.
Hours later. Procedure done.
I dragged my wrecked body home. Turned on my phone.
Media coverage everywhere.
Photos showed two silhouettes reporters caught—clearly Soren and Morgana. But they'd mistaken Morgana for me.
Headline read:
"HEIR BRUTALLY MURDERED, BODY STILL MISSING—WOLFHART ALPHA & LUNA RUSH TO HOSPITAL TO PROTECT PREGNANCY."
