After My Alpha Fathered A Child With His Mistress

I stood before the full-length mirror in my dressing room, smoothing down the front of my custom-designed silver gown. The fabric caught the light with every movement, shimmering like the scales of a fish—or perhaps like the tears I'd been holding back for years.

"It's just one day," I whispered to my reflection, reaching up to touch the moonstone pendant hanging at my throat. "Mom's pendant always brings luck."

My mother's voice seemed to echo in my mind: *The Moon Goddess watches over those who sacrifice for love.*

I'd sacrificed everything—my inheritance, my ancestral lands, my family's legacy—all for Enzo's dream. The Silver Creek Training Center would be the largest of its kind in three territories, a state-of-the-art facility that would secure our pack's future for generations.

"We can't have children," Enzo had told me three years ago, his eyes downcast as he explained his supposed battle injury. "But we can leave a different kind of legacy."

I'd believed him. I'd sold everything my parents left me, pouring millions into his vision.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

"Ready, sweetheart?" Enzo's voice carried that familiar timber-and-pine scent, though today there was something else beneath it—something sweet and floral that made my wolf, Luna, stir uneasily within me.

I turned as he entered, his tall frame filling the doorway. He looked every inch the Alpha in his tailored suit, his dark hair perfectly styled, his smile practiced and perfect.

"You look beautiful," he said, crossing the room to kiss my forehead. The gesture felt perfunctory, like a business transaction rather than an intimate moment.

"Thank you," I replied, forcing warmth into my voice. "Are you nervous?"

"Not at all." His smile widened. "This is what I was born for—what we were born for. You've made me the Alpha I was meant to be, Davina."

His eyes didn't quite meet mine as he spoke, and that unfamiliar floral scent seemed stronger now. I pushed the thought away. Today was too important for doubts.

---

The ribbon-cutting ceremony was a sea of faces—hundreds of pack members gathered to witness what Enzo called "the dawn of a new era." I stood beside him on the raised platform, smiling until my cheeks hurt.

"Today marks not just the opening of a building," Enzo began, his voice carrying across the hushed crowd, "but the beginning of Silver Creek's legacy. A legacy built on strength, on vision—"

A commotion at the edge of the gathering cut him off. Heads turned, whispers rippled through the crowd, and then a path cleared.

Kyra Hall emerged from the sea of bodies, her blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight. But it wasn't her presence that made my blood freeze—it was the small hand she held.

A little boy, no more than three years old, clung to her fingers. He had Enzo's eyes. Enzo's jawline. And when he looked up at the microphone, his small face scrunching in confusion at the feedback noise, something terrible happened.

"Stop!" he