The Alpha Chose Her Over Our Unborn Twins
Chapter 2
Ayden Harper, the Lycan King, stared at me with icy disbelief, his Alpha aura pressing down on me like a suffocating weight.
“I, the Lycan King, have never broken my vow,” he said, his voice sharp and cutting. “How could you possibly be carrying my child?”
“Lilliana Harper, you should’ve rehearsed this lie better.”
“I’m not lying…” I started, but a searing pain shot through my abdomen, making me double over.
Humiliation burned in my chest, hotter than the pain.
Marco Gomez, the Beta, stepped forward, his voice trembling but firm. “Your Majesty, her scent carries traces of yours. That night—”
“Whose side are you on, Marco?” Ayden’s eyes narrowed, his Alpha tone cutting through the room like a blade.
“Beta Marco, I think you’ve forgotten your place in this pack,” he growled. “Know your rank.”
Marco immediately lowered his head, silenced.
Tears streamed down my face as I remembered that night—the night of my Come of Age Ceremony.
He had brought a cake, but he’d been out of his mind, his scent wild and unfamiliar, as if someone had drugged him.
He’d forced himself on me, and the next morning, when he woke up beside me, he’d promised to take responsibility. I thought he knew what had happened.
“Your Majesty…” My voice cracked, my breath coming in shallow gasps. “Please believe me. I’m carrying your child.”
“Enough,” he snapped, his voice cold and final. “I won’t listen to your lies anymore.”
Without another word, he turned and scooped Amelie Palmer, his chosen Luna, into his arms. She clung to him, her hands clawing at his shirt, but he didn’t seem to care.
He carried her into his study, shutting the door behind them.
“Your Majesty, please!” I screamed, desperation clawing at my throat. “Don’t do this to me!”
But he didn’t look back. The door closed with a final, deafening thud, sealing my fate.
Marco tried to step in, but the warriors—Delta’s under Ayden’s command—shoved him aside.
Then they were on me, forcing me to the ground. I lost count of how many hands were on me, how many scents—foreign and aggressive—filled the air.
Panic and pain consumed me as I begged, my hands desperately clutching my stomach.
“Please, don’t hurt my child!” I sobbed, my voice breaking.
But my pleas fell on deaf ears.
All I could do was curl into myself, shielding my unborn twins as best as I could, praying to the Moon Goddess for mercy.
