I've Never Slept With Ivy

(Aurora's POV)

The night air felt heavy as we left Elder Blackwood's pack house. Alexander walked beside me, maintaining a careful distance that somehow felt more intimate than if he'd been touching me.

"Your conversation with Dominic seemed intense," he said casually, breaking our silence. His voice was controlled, but I could sense the tension underneath.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. "We discussed the Beta's daughter."

Alexander's jaw tightened. "Ivy is becoming quite the topic around here."

"She certainly makes herself available for discussion," I replied coolly.

To my surprise, Alexander reached for my hand, his warm fingers intertwining with mine. The unexpected tenderness caught me off guard.

"I need you to understand something, Aurora," he said, his voice dropping to a gentler tone I rarely heard. "I've never slept with Ivy."

I blinked rapidly, fighting the tears that threatened to form. Not because I believed him, but because I understood the game he was playing.

"You expect me to believe that?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Alexander stopped walking, turning to face me fully. The moonlight cast silver highlights in his dark hair, making him look otherworldly.

"Believe what you want about Ivy and me, but I have never shared a mating bond with anyone but you."

The sincerity in his eyes was almost convincing. Almost. But I knew better. This sudden tenderness wasn't about me – it was about my fertility cycle under the full moon. About his desperate need for an heir to secure his position as future Alpha.

If he knew the truth – that I likely couldn't bear pups anymore due to the injuries I sustained protecting the pack's healing grounds – would he still be holding my hand this way? Would he still look at me with this carefully constructed affection?

The ride back to our den was silent. Alexander drove with one hand on the wheel, the other still holding mine. It felt like a parody of intimacy.

Once inside, Alexander's demeanor shifted. His movements became more purposeful as he locked the door and dimmed the lights.

"It's been too long since I've properly claimed my mate," he said, his voice deepening as he approached me.

I stepped back, creating distance between us. "Alexander, I meant what I said. I want to sever our mate bond."

His expression hardened instantly. The tender mask fell away, revealing the calculating Alpha beneath.

"We will never sever our bond," he stated coldly. "Once you're carrying my pup, these nonsense thoughts will stop."

The casual dismissal of my feelings stung worse than any physical blow.

"And what if I can't bear pups?" I asked quietly. "What then?"

Alexander's laugh was short and dismissive. "Don't be ridiculous. The pre-mating health assessments confirmed your fertility."

That had been before the rogue wolf attack. Before I'd taken a blow meant for him. Before the pack doctor had told me in private that pregnancy would likely be impossible.

"Things change," I said simply.

Before he could respond, his phone howled – the urgent tone of the pack communication network. Alexander checked the message, his expression shifting to one of concern.

"I have to go," he said, already moving toward the door.

No explanation. No apology. Just the expectation that I would accept his departure without question. Like a good, obedient Luna-to-be.

"It's Ivy, isn't it?" I couldn't help asking.

Alexander paused at the door, not turning around. "Pack business."

Then he was gone.

I stood in the silent den, listening to his car start and drive away. I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I simply walked to our bedroom, gathered my pillow and a blanket, and moved to the guest room.

He didn't return that night. Or the next. Or the one after that.

Days turned into a week of silence. I didn't make a single phone call to him. Each day without Alexander was both painful and liberating. The mate bond ached for his presence, but my mind welcomed the peace.

I told myself to slowly adapt to life without Alexander. This was a preview of the freedom I sought.

Seven days after our confrontation, Ruby Stone met me outside the pack council chamber at the prestigious Silver Fang Lodge.

The Silver Fang Lodge was the Blackwood Pack's most formal meeting venue, reserved for important pack business and meetings with other Alpha leaders.

Tonight an Alpha visited our pack to talk about the important Moonstone Project. Of course Alexander would be here.

"Are you ready for this?" she asked, her amber eyes concerned.

I straightened my shoulders. "As ready as I'll ever be."

When I entered the council chamber, the first thing I saw was Ivy Lawrence sitting intimately beside Alexander at the head table. Her slender body was angled toward him, her hand occasionally brushing his arm as she laughed at something he said.

Our eyes met across the room. Ivy's smile turned smug as she deliberately leaned closer to Alexander, whispering something in his ear.

I kept my expression neutral as I took my seat at the opposite end of the table. As Chief Healer, I had a right to be here, regardless of my failing mating bond.

The meeting dragged on – territory disputes, hunting quotas, preparations for the next full moon. I spoke only when addressed directly about healing matters, keeping my tone professional and detached.

When the formal proceedings ended, I slipped out to the moonlight garden for a moment of peace. The night-blooming moonflowers in the garden released their sweet scent, calming my agitated wolf.

"Enjoying the view, Chief Healer?"

I turned to find Ivy standing behind me, her blue eyes glittering with malice in the moonlight.

"I prefer the company of flowers to wolves with forked tongues," I replied calmly.

Ivy laughed, the sound like shattering glass. "I've moved back into Alexander's private den," she announced triumphantly. "He will protect me, you know. He always has."

I studied her – this young, beautiful wolf who thought she had won something precious.

"Alexander protects what benefits him," I said evenly. "He values territory and power above all else. If drinking wolfsbane would secure a strategic alliance with neighboring packs, he'd have you drink it without hesitation."

Fury flashed across Ivy's pretty features. "You don't know him at all!"

"I've been mated to him for four years," I reminded her. "I know exactly who Alexander Blackwood is."

Back inside, I noticed the visiting Alpha from the Northern Territories eyeing Ivy with interest. An idea formed in my mind – petty perhaps, but satisfying.

During the ceremonial toast, I deliberately maneuvered until Ivy was positioned to drink with the visiting Alpha. When she hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with his attention, Alexander stepped in.

"Ivy," he said, his voice carrying the weight of command, "the Northern Territories control access to our million-acre Moonstone Project. A toast would be appropriate."

The look of betrayal on her face as Alexander prioritized pack business over her comfort was almost worth the pain of watching them together.

Later, as the evening wound down, Ruby approached with news.

"Ivy's been taken to the healing den," she reported quietly. "Apparently, she drank too much wolf wine and it's reacted with her blood condition."

A twinge of guilt touched me before I pushed it away. Wolf wine was harmless to most of our kind – Ivy's reaction was due to her rare blood disorder, not my machinations.

"Will she recover?" I asked, more out of duty than concern.

Ruby nodded. "With proper treatment, yes."

I was gathering my belongings to leave when a powerful hand gripped my elbow. Alexander's scent enveloped me before I even turned to face him.

"We need to talk," he growled, his amber eyes flashing with anger. "Now."

Without waiting for my response, he guided me firmly through the lodge and out to the forest clearing behind the building. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across his face.

"What game are you playing?" he demanded once we were alone.

"I don't know what you mean," I replied, feigning innocence.

Alexander stepped closer, his height forcing me to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. "You deliberately antagonized Ivy tonight."

"Is that what she told you?" I asked. "Between bouts of vomiting wolf wine?"

His nostrils flared with anger. "She's young. Vulnerable."

"She's the daughter of your Beta, hardly a helpless victim," I countered. "And you're defending her a bit too passionately for someone who claims there's nothing between you."

Alexander ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Ivy has been part of my life since childhood. Our families have always been close."

"Close enough for you to take her to our sacred mating den?" The words escaped before I could stop them, raw with the hurt I'd been suppressing.

The slap happened before I could think better of it. My palm connected with his cheek, the sound sharp in the quiet forest clearing. Alexander's head barely moved from the impact, but his eyes widened in shock.

"You've changed," I accused, my voice shaking with emotion. "Surrounding yourself with young she-wolves, not returning to our den at night, only showing interest in me during my fertility cycles under the full moon."

A muscle twitched in Alexander's jaw as he controlled his reaction to my strike. When he spoke, his voice was ice-cold.

"I'm removing you from the Moonstone Project," he announced. "And I'll be reconsidering your position as the pack's chief healer altogether."

The clinical detachment in his voice made something snap inside me. After everything – the betrayal, the neglect, the dismissal of my feelings – he was now threatening the work that gave my life meaning.

In that moment, I decided to tell him the truth that I can no longer bear pups. The secret I'd been carrying for three years.

"Alexander," I said, meeting his gaze steadily, "I need to tell you something important."