My Alpha Believed His Mistress and Tried to Kill Me

Pain is the first thing that welcomes me back to the world. It’s a sharp, tearing sensation deep in my abdomen, a hollow ache that feels like something vital has been scooped out of me. I blink against the harsh fluorescent lights of the pack hospital, my throat dry as sandpaper.

Dr. Elena Frost stands over me, her expression grim. She doesn't look like a healer today; she looks like an executioner delivering a final verdict.

"Luna," she says softly, her voice devoid of its usual warmth. "You're awake."

I try to sit up, but a fresh wave of agony pins me to the mattress. I reach for my stomach, my fingers trembling as they brush against thick bandages. The space beneath my palm feels empty, wrong.

"My baby," I rasp, the words scraping against my raw throat. It’s a whisper, barely audible, but in this room, it sounds like a scream.

Elena looks away, unable to meet my eyes. "I’m so sorry, Cecilia. The trauma... the Alpha's blow caused massive internal hemorrhaging. We did everything we could, but we lost the pup."

I stare at the ceiling, the white tiles blurring as tears fill my eyes. Gone. My miracle, my hope, extinguished before it even had a chance to spark. A sob builds in my chest, but I swallow it down. I have been trained well. Silence is safety. Silence is survival.

"There's more," Elena continues, her voice tighter now. " The damage to your uterus was extensive. To save your life, we had to perform an emergency hysterectomy. You... you won't be able to carry children in the future."

The world tilts on its axis. Sterility. In our world, where lineage and heirs are everything, I am now broken beyond repair. I am a Luna with no future, a vessel emptied and discarded. I turn my face to the wall, letting the tears fall silently into the pillow. There are no words for this kind of grief. Even if I were allowed to scream, I don't think I would have enough breath.

The door opens a few hours later. I know it's him before I even see him. The air in the room shifts, becoming heavy and charged with the scent of rain and ozone—Nicolas.

I don't turn around. I can't look at him. Not yet.

"Look at me, Cecilia," he commands. His voice is the Alpha tone, vibrating with a power that compels obedience. My body betrays me, turning my head toward him against my will.

He stands at the foot of the bed, impeccable in his suit, not a hair out of place. There is no remorse in his eyes, only a cold, hard disappointment. He looks at me not as his mate, but as a subordinate who has failed a simple task.

"Dr. Frost told you," he states, not asking.

I nod, a single tear escaping.

"This is what happens when you lose control," he says, his voice devoid of emotion. He steps closer, his shadow falling over me. "I warned you. I told you that discipline was paramount. Your shrieking... that noise... it triggered the wolf. You know my condition. You know what loud noises do to me."

My mouth falls open. He is blaming me. He killed our child—his heir—in a blind rage, and he is standing there blaming me for a moment of joy.

"You provoked the beast," he continues, his eyes narrowing. "And now the pack has paid the price. We have lost an heir because you couldn't keep your mouth shut."

I want to scream at him. I want to tell him that he is the monster, that his 'condition' is just an excuse for his brutality. But the fear is ingrained too deep. I just stare at him, my heart shattering into a million pieces.

"You will not leave this room," he orders, turning his back on me. "Until you learn better control, you are confined here. I cannot risk you triggering me again. Not when the pack is already whispering about your failure."

He walks out, the door clicking shut with a finality that echoes in my empty womb. I am alone. Truly, utterly alone.

A week passes in a blur of gray. I eat when food is brought, I sleep when the pain medication drags me under, and I stare at the wall the rest of the time. I am a ghost haunting my own life.

One night, thirst wakes me. My throat feels like it's filled with dust. The pitcher by my bed is empty. I press the call button for the nurse, but no one comes. The hospital wing is quiet, the night shift skeleton crew likely asleep or on break.

I slide out of bed, my legs wobbling beneath me. The pain in my abdomen has dulled to a constant throb, manageable if I move slowly. I creep into the hallway, clutching my IV pole for support. The corridor is dim, lit only by the emergency lights.

I head toward the nurses' station, hoping to find water. As I pass Simone’s office, a sound stops me dead in my tracks.

Laughter.

Loud, raucous, uninhibited laughter.

My heart hammers against my ribs. Noise is forbidden in the pack house, especially at night. Especially near Nicolas. Who would dare?

I creep closer to the door, which is cracked open just a sliver. The light from inside spills onto the floor in a thin yellow line. I press my eye to the gap.

Inside, Simone is sitting on the edge of her desk, her head thrown back as she laughs at something. And there, sitting in the armchair opposite her, is Nicolas.

He is smiling. A genuine, relaxed smile that I haven't seen in years. He holds a glass of amber liquid in one hand, looking completely at ease.

"...and then the Gamma tripped over his own paws!" Simone shrieks, her voice piercing the quiet of the night. It is loud. It is sharp. It is exactly the kind of sound that is supposed to send Nicolas into a feral frenzy.

I flinch, waiting for the monster to emerge. Waiting for his eyes to turn black, for the violence to explode.

But Nicolas just chuckles. He swirls his drink, his eyes warm as he looks at her. "You have a terrible sense of humor, Simone."

"But you love it," she teases, leaning forward to tap his knee. "Admit it, Alpha. You feel better when I'm around."

"I do," he agrees softly. "The noise... it doesn't bother me with you. It's only... other irritants."

I stumble back, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a gasp. My knees give out, and I slide down the wall, the cold tile seeping into my skin.

He lied. It was all a lie.

He isn't broken by noise. He isn't triggered by sound. He laughs with her. He listens to her scream and shout and laugh, and his wolf sleeps peacefully.

It isn't the noise he hates.

It's me.