An Heir Not Ours (Alexa’s POV)
1798 Words
“Leave Now”
“Margaux, as your Alpha, I command you to move out—nobody without my permission is allowed in this chamber except my mate.”
Zyrus’s roar cracked through the stone walls, vibrating through my bones, shaking the candles, rattling the glass windows.
For a split second, I thought he was furious for me.
For us.
My heart lurched painfully.
Margaux stood near the threshold, her crimson gown pooling around her feet like fresh blood. Her eyes glistened, wide and glossy, lips trembling as if she were the fragile victim in a tragedy she herself had orchestrated.
“But, Alpha,” she whispered, clutching her stomach, bending slightly as if in pain. “It hurts. I— I can’t breathe properly. I need your help. Please.”
Her voice cracked at just the right moment.
Perfectly timed.
Perfectly calculated.
My chest tightened.
I stood beside the bed, still wrapped in thin ceremonial silk, the bond mark fresh and aching against my neck. The room still smelled faintly of incense and sacred oils. This chamber was supposed to be ours. Sacred. Untouchable.
And yet, she was here.
Intruding.
Claiming.
Zyrus’s jaw flexed. His fists clenched at his sides. “There are healers,” he snapped. “You know the protocol.”
“They’re not enough,” she said quickly, eyes darting to me for the briefest second— sharp, cold, triumphant— before softening again as they returned to him. “You’re the only one who can help. My wolf… she’s panicking.”
Silence swallowed the room.
I felt it then.
That familiar shift.
That dangerous hesitation.
It always happened when it came to her.
Zyrus exhaled slowly, visibly restraining his temper. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But I wouldn’t come unless it was serious.”
Her knees buckled slightly.
He moved.
Not toward me.
Toward her.
My breath hitched.
“Zyrus,” I whispered, my voice barely cutting through the tension.
He paused mid-step.
Just for a heartbeat.
Then he continued forward.
He caught her before she could fall, his arm sliding around her waist, steadying her too easily, too naturally— like he had done it a thousand times before.
The sight punched the air out of my lungs.
“I’ll take her back,” he said, not looking at me. “I’ll return in an instant.”
An instant.
The same promise he always gave.
“I just need to escort her and make sure she’s settled.”
“As an Alpha,” he added quietly.
The words felt like knives.
As an Alpha.
Never as a man.
Never as my husband.
I forced my feet to move, stepping closer. “You said—”
“I said I would come back,” he interrupted, finally turning to me.
His eyes softened slightly, just enough to keep me breathing.
“I will,” he promised. “I need to handle this.”
Handle her.
My fingers trembled at my sides. “Why does it always have to be you?”
Margaux stiffened subtly in his arms.
His gaze sharpened. “Because she is part of this pack. And I am responsible for every life under my command.”
The words were logical.
Reasonable.
Unfair.
“And what about me?” I whispered.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Then vanished.
“You are my mate,” he said firmly. “That is exactly why I need you to trust me.”
Trust.
The word tasted bitter.
I stepped back, giving him space, because that was what I had always done— adjust, retreat, accommodate.
“Go,” I said quietly. “I’ll wait.”
His jaw tightened, as if he wanted to say something else.
But he didn’t.
He turned, lifting Margaux fully into his arms.
She nestled against his chest, her head falling against his shoulder.
Her gaze met mine.
And this time, she didn’t hide the smile.
The door closed behind them.
The sound echoed.
Final.
My knees gave out.
I sank onto the edge of the massive bed, clutching the sheets, breathing in shallow, broken gasps.
This was our wedding night.
Our bond night.
The night that was supposed to define everything.
Instead, I was alone.
Again.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
The candles burned lower.
The moon drifted across the sky.
Every tick of time dragged across my skin like salt on an open wound.
The bond pulsed.
Unsettled.
Uneasy.
I could feel Zyrus.
His presence.
His power.
But something else tangled in the connection.
Something intrusive.
Something wrong.
Margaux.
My chest tightened painfully.
Why did he always respond to her?
Why did her pain matter more?
Why did she always come first?
I pressed my palm over my heart, trying to calm the erratic rhythm.
You knew what you were marrying into, I reminded myself.
An Alpha.
A king.
A man bound to duty before desire.
But even kings had hearts.
Didn’t they?
The door finally opened.
I surged to my feet.
“Zyrus—”
He stepped inside alone.
Relief crashed through me.
Then confusion.
Then dread.
“You’re back early,” I whispered.
His face was carved from stone.
“Margaux is settled,” he said. “Healers are with her.”
I nodded. “Is she okay?”
“She will be.”
Something in his tone unsettled me.
“Zyrus… what happened?”
Silence.
He moved past me, loosening the collar of his shirt, rolling his shoulders like a man carrying more weight than flesh and bone should allow.
“She collapsed.”
My heart skipped. “Collapsed?”
“Exhaustion. Shock. Pain.” His jaw tightened. “She said she felt something tear inside her.”
The words hit like thunder.
I stared at him.
“And?”
“And the healers are running tests.”
Tests.
Why did that word sound so final?
“Why does that matter to us?” I asked softly.
He stopped.
Slowly turned.
“Because,” he said, his voice low, controlled, dangerous, “if what they suspect is true, then tonight may not unfold the way it was meant to.”
The air thinned.
“What do you mean?”
His gaze searched my face.
Almost regretful.
Almost.
“Alexa,” he said quietly, “there’s a possibility Margaux is carrying an heir.”
The world shattered.
I staggered back, hitting the bed.
“What?”
His words echoed endlessly.
An heir.
His heir.
Not mine.
“Impossible,” I breathed. “You— you don’t—”
“We were never bound,” he cut in. “But there were nights. Long before you were of age. Long before the bond was confirmed.”
My chest burned.
“So you slept with her.”
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt more than a lie ever could.
“And now you think—”
“I don’t think,” he snapped. “The healers do.”
Tears blurred my vision.
“Then what am I?” I whispered.
His eyes darkened. “You are my mate.”
“Your wife.”
“Your Luna.”
“But not the mother of your child.”
Silence.
It was answer enough.
The bond pulsed violently.
Pain seared through my chest.
I pressed my palm to my sternum, gasping.
“I waited,” I said shakily. “All my life, I waited for you.”
“I know.”
“I loved you when you had nothing.”
“I know.”
“I stood beside you while you climbed into power.”
“I know!”
His voice cracked.
For the first time, I saw something raw flicker across his face.
“Then why,” I whispered, broken, “does it always feel like I’m the one being sacrificed?”
He strode toward me in two long steps, gripping my arms.
“Because being my mate means enduring what no one else can.”
“I don’t want to endure,” I sobbed. “I want to be loved.”
Something shifted in his eyes.
Dangerous.
Uncontrolled.
He leaned in, pressing his forehead against mine.
“You want too much,” he murmured.
My heart collapsed.
Before I could respond, a sharp knock sliced through the tension.
“Alpha!”
Zyrus stiffened.
“Yes?”
“Emergency. You’re needed in the healing chamber. Now.”
He released me instantly.
Duty snapping back into place.
“I have to go,” he said, already turning.
My chest ached.
“Zyrus,” I called.
He paused.
Just slightly.
“Don’t leave me like this.”
A beat.
Then—
“I will return.”
The door closed behind him.
Again.
Hours passed.
No Zyrus.
No answers.
Only whispers drifting through the corridors.
Servants murmuring.
Guards exchanging glances.
Healers moving in hushed urgency.
The bond throbbed, erratic, unstable.
Something was happening.
Something I wasn’t meant to know.
Finally, unable to bear it, I wrapped myself in a cloak and stepped into the hallway.
The palace was restless.
Energy vibrated in the air like an approaching storm.
I followed the pull of the bond.
Down winding corridors.
Past torch-lit halls.
Toward the healing wing.
Voices grew louder.
Tense.
Urgent.
I stopped outside the chamber.
The door was slightly ajar.
Inside—
Margaux lay on the healing bed, pale, trembling, surrounded by three healers and two midwives.
Zyrus stood at her side.
His hand was clenched around hers.
My breath caught painfully.
“Her body is stabilizing,” one healer said. “But the presence is clear.”
Zyrus swallowed. “You’re certain?”
“Yes, Alpha.” The woman hesitated. “She carries life.”
Silence crashed down.
Then Margaux whispered, weak but unmistakably victorious—
“I told you I needed you.”
My knees nearly buckled.
Zyrus leaned closer to her. “You should have told me sooner.”
Her eyes flicked toward the door.
Toward me.
Then back to him.
“I was afraid,” she said softly. “Afraid you would choose duty over us.”
His jaw tightened.
“I haven’t chosen anything yet.”
Her fingers tightened around his. “But you will.”
The bond screamed.
I stumbled back, choking on air.
A tear slipped down my cheek.
This was how it ended.
Not with rage.
Not with betrayal.
But with quiet, unbearable replacement.
Footsteps echoed behind me.
I turned.
Zyrus stood there.
Our eyes met.
Everything shattered.
“Alexa—”
My voice broke first.
“Is it true?”
He stared at me.
And in that silence, I understood.
Before he could speak, I whispered
“Don’t lie to me.”
His lips parted.
Then closed.
Then opened again.
And finally, he said...
“Yes.”
- Writer
