The Alpha's Hidden Heir

ERIN

"Get out."

The words hit me like ice water, even though I'd been expecting them for weeks. Marty stood in the doorway of our bedroom—his bedroom now, I guess—with his arms crossed over his broad chest, those dark eyes that used to look at me with such warmth now cold as winter stone.

"You can't be serious," I whispered, clutching the pregnancy test behind my back. The little plus sign had appeared just five minutes ago, changing everything. Or so I'd thought.

"Dead serious." He didn't even blink. "I found someone else. Someone better suited to be my Luna."

My wolf howled inside me, clawing to get out, to fight, to make him see reason. But I kept her locked down tight. I'd learned long ago that showing weakness in front of an Alpha only made things worse.

"We've been together for three years," I said, hating how my voice cracked. "I'm your mate—"

"You're not my fated mate," he interrupted, his voice sharp enough to draw blood. "We both knew this was temporary until I found her. Well, I found her. Cassandra from the Silvermoon pack. She's everything a Luna should be."

Everything I wasn't, he meant. Strong bloodline. Pure Alpha heritage. Not some orphan girl who'd been found half-dead at the pack borders when she was five, with no memory of where she came from.

The pregnancy test felt like it was burning a hole in my palm. I should tell him. Any decent person would want to know they were going to be a father. But looking at the cruel twist of his lips, the way he couldn't even meet my eyes properly, I knew the truth. He wouldn't care. Or worse—he'd take my baby away.

"Fine," I said, lifting my chin. "I'll pack my things."

Something flickered in his eyes—surprise? Disappointment that I wasn't begging? Good. Let him wonder.

"You have one hour," he said, turning away. "After that, you're no longer welcome on Shadowcrest territory."

The door slammed behind him, and I finally let myself breathe. My hand shook as I looked down at the pregnancy test again. Two little lines that changed everything.

I grabbed my old backpack from the closet and started throwing clothes in. Not much to pack, really. Three years in this house and I'd never really been allowed to make it mine. My fingers brushed against the small velvet box hidden in my drawer—the necklace Marty had given me for my eighteenth birthday, back when he'd promised me forever.

I left it there.

Forty-five minutes later, I stood at the pack border, my whole life stuffed into one backpack. The guards wouldn't even look at me. Word traveled fast in wolf packs, and everyone knew—Erin Winters had been rejected. Cast out. Replaced.

"Where will you go?"

I turned to find Beth, the pack healer, standing behind me with a small bag in her hands. She'd always been kind to me, one of the few who hadn't cared about my unknown origins.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe Silver Ridge? I heard they're hiring at the brewery there."

She pressed the bag into my hands. "Supplies," she said quietly. "And... vitamins. Special ones. The kind expecting mothers need."

My eyes widened. "How did you—"

"I've been a healer for thirty years, child. I know the signs." She squeezed my shoulder. "Whatever you do, don't let him find out. Not until you're safe and settled somewhere he can't reach."

Tears burned my eyes, but I wouldn't let them fall. Not here. Not where he might see.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"There's a bus in twenty minutes," Beth said. "It'll take you to Silver Ridge. Start fresh, Erin. Become who you were meant to be, not what he tried to make you."

As I walked away from the only home I'd known for the past thirteen years, I placed a protective hand over my still-flat stomach. Maybe Marty had thrown me away like garbage, but he'd given me something precious without knowing it.

This baby would never know what it felt like to be unwanted. I'd make sure of that.

The bus smelled like diesel and broken dreams, but I climbed on anyway. As Shadowcrest territory disappeared behind me, I made myself a promise. Marty would regret this day. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next month, but someday he'd realize what he'd lost.

And by then, it would be too late.