Rejected While Pregnant with the Alpha’s Secret Heir

Chapter 3: The Second Moon

The heavy oak doors of the Council Hall closed behind Corin with a dull, final thud. The atmosphere inside was suffocating, thick with the scent of old wood, burning wax, and the tense pheromones of the pack’s oldest wolves. Corin strode into the center of the circular room, expecting a mundane dispute about territorial borders or winter supplies.

Instead, he found all twelve Elders standing in a perfect, unbroken circle.

At the head of the room stood Elder Morin. His face, usually lined with a mask of false humility, now bore an expression of solemn, almost predatory triumph. Corin’s steps slowed. His wolf paced restlessly beneath his skin, sensing a trap.

Before Corin could demand an explanation, the side doors of the hall creaked open.

Corin turned, his brow furrowing in deep confusion. A woman stepped over the threshold. It was Serai Dalen. She was a cold, striking beauty from a neighboring ruling bloodline, wrapped in an aura of aristocratic arrogance. Her scent was sharp, like winter frost and crushed silver—a stark, unpleasant contrast to the warm, sweet, and comforting aroma of his Erin.

"What is the meaning of this?" Corin’s voice echoed off the stone walls, low and dangerous. "Why is a female from the Dalen pack at a closed council of the Vargans?"

Elder Morin stepped forward, raising his hands to demand silence. He didn't speak in his usual conversational tone; instead, he began to chant, his voice echoing with the rhythmic, haunting cadence of ancient oral traditions passed down through generations of wolves.

"The Law of the Second Moon," Morin intoned, his eyes locking onto Corin’s. "When an Alpha binds his soul to a mate of no lineage, the Moon Goddess demands balance. Accept Serai as your second true mate—and Erin will live. Refuse—and she will die in a month from the blood withering."

Silence crashed down on the room, so heavy it felt like physical weight. Corin stopped breathing. The blood drained from his face.

Blood withering. It was an ancient, terrifying myth, a curse that slowly drained the life from a wolf, turning their veins to ice and their heart to dust.

"You're lying," Corin snarled, his eyes flashing a bright, lethal gold. His claws extended, slicing into the palms of his hands. "It’s a myth! I am her Alpha, my mark protects her!"

"Look at the ancient texts, boy. Ask the spirits!" Morin’s voice boomed, unwavering. "The Goddess does not accept a nameless stray as the sole vessel for an Alpha's power. The decay will start in days. She will waste away in your arms, coughing up blood, until her heart simply stops. The only cure is to take a royal-blooded female to balance the pack's magic. Take Serai."

Serai stood perfectly still, her chin raised, watching Corin with cold, calculated expectation.

Corin felt the floor drop out from under him. The image of Erin—his sweet, smiling Erin, who was waiting for him at home with a surprise for dinner—fading away, dying in agony because of his love, tore a gaping hole in his soul. His massive frame began to tremble. It wasn't fear for himself; it was absolute, mind-shattering terror for the woman he loved more than his own life.

"I can't do this to her," Corin whispered in horror, the words tearing from his throat like broken glass. "It will destroy her. I can't."

Seeing the Alpha’s spirit cracking, Elder Morin dropped his theatrical, chanting tone. He stepped out of the circle, closing the distance between them. Morin leaned in, his face inches from Corin’s, and hissed into his ear, his voice dripping with pure, concentrated venom.

"She is dust, Corin," Morin spat quietly. "A bloodless orphan. In a month, you'll forget her name. In a year, you'll breed a true heir with Serai, and this little mutt will be thrown out of the pack like trash. You are an Alpha. Act like one, or watch your little pet rot."

A deafening roar ripped through Corin’s chest. His wolf surged forward, ready to tear Morin’s throat out, ready to paint the council walls with the elder's blood. His muscles coiled, lethal and explosive.

But then, he remembered Erin’s face just an hour ago. ‘Come back soon. I have a surprise for you tonight.’

If he killed Morin, it wouldn't break the curse. If he refused Serai, the withering would take Erin. He could feel the phantom weight of her lifeless body in his arms. The realization hit him like a physical blow, breaking him completely. He had to save her life, even if it meant sacrificing their love. Even if it meant she would hate him until her dying breath.

He couldn't slowly torture her by keeping her around as a rejected mate while he was forced to be with Serai. No. He had to make her leave. He had to make her run far, far away from this pack and from him.

Corin slowly lowered his fists. His golden eyes dimmed back to a dead, hollow brown. His soul shattered into a million irreparable pieces.

To save her, he had to become the monster she would despise. One sharp blow. One public, devastating strike to sever the bond, so she would hate him enough to survive.

"Summon the pack," Corin ordered, his voice devoid of any emotion, echoing like a death knell in the silent hall. "Summon everyone to the clearing at dawn."