The Alpha's Regret: His Secret Hybrid Heir

The rain came down in sheets, turning the forest floor into a slick mess of mud and fallen pine needles. Elena's boots slipped as she stumbled forward, her daughter's burning body clutched against her chest.

Maya whimpered. The sound cut straight through Elena's heart.

"I know, baby. I know it hurts." Elena's voice cracked. She pulled the soaked blanket tighter around her daughter's small frame, though it did nothing against the fever tearing through the four-year-old's body. Maya's skin blazed hot enough to burn. Her tiny wolf was fighting something her human body couldn't survive alone.

Shifter Fever. The words the rogue healer had whispered still echoed in Elena's mind. She needs Pack healers. Strong ones. Or she has three days at most.

Three days.

Elena had made her choice in less than three seconds.

The Blackwood Pack border loomed ahead, marked by ancient stones half-buried in moss. She could smell it now—that distinct scent of Pack territory, of wolves who belonged to something she'd been cast out from. Pine and earth and that sharp, clean smell that came after lightning struck.

Her wolf stirred for the first time in years.

No. Elena shoved her wolf down, deep into the corners of her mind where she'd learned to keep it locked. She couldn't afford to feel. Not now. Not here.

But the prickling had already started.

It began at the base of her spine—a heat that had nothing to do with hard work and everything to do with a bond she'd thought was dead. The mate bond was supposed to fade when rejected. Everyone said so. Five years of silence, five years of blessed numbness, and she'd believed she was finally free.

She'd been wrong.

A sharp heat raced up her spine, making every nerve in her body feel like it was on fire. Her wolf whined, a pathetic sound of longing that made Elena's jaw clench hard enough to ache.

He's near.

"No." The word came out sharp, a command to herself. To the bond. To the universe that had decided now was the perfect time to remind her of what she'd lost.

Not lost. Thrown away.

Maya coughed, a wet, rattling sound that jerked Elena back to reality. Her daughter's lips were tinged blue despite the fever. Despite the heat pouring off her small body in waves.

Pride or death. Those were her options.

Elena had never been particularly proud anyway.

She crossed the border.

The Pack wards hit her immediately—a pressure against her chest, a warning that vibrated in her bones. She was rankless. Omega. The lowest of the low, barely worth the air she breathed. The wards knew it. They pushed at her, trying to force her back, but Elena gritted her teeth and pushed forward.

For Maya, she would crawl through broken glass. She would beg. She would grovel at the feet of the man who'd looked her in the eyes and said, "You are not worthy to stand beside an Alpha."

The memories crashed over her. Xander's face, beautiful and cruel. The way the mate bond had sung between them that first moment, golden and perfect and right. The way his expression had shuttered when he'd learned what she was.

Or rather, what she wasn't.

Not powerful. Not connected. Not useful.

Just Elena. Just omega.

He hadn't even done her the courtesy of a private rejection. He'd said the words in front of the entire Pack, his voice flat and final: "I, Xander Blackwood, Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, reject you, Elena Thorne, as my mate and Luna."

The bond had broken. She'd screamed. And then she'd run.

She hadn't known then that a single night of passion had left her pregnant. She wouldn't find out until three weeks later, huddled in a cold motel room, that she was carrying his child.

Elena's foot caught on a root and she went down hard, twisting at the last second to take the impact on her shoulder instead of on Maya. Pain exploded through her collarbone. She tasted blood where she'd bitten her tongue.

Maya didn't even stir. That was worse than the coughing.

"Get up," Elena whispered to herself. Rain pounded against her back. Her hair hung in her face, dark strands plastered to her cheeks. "Get. Up."

She made it to her knees. Then her feet.

The prickling had become a burn. The bond thrashed like a living thing beneath her skin, pulling her forward, screaming that her mate was close, so close, run to him, go to him, he'll fix everything—

Lies. The bond had always been a liar.

Elena walked deeper into Blackwood territory, every step an act of will. The forest pressed in around her, dense and dark despite the afternoon hour. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled. A sentry, probably. They'd already detected her.

Good. She needed their healers, not their permission.

She'd gone maybe half a mile when she felt it—the shift in the air that meant she was no longer alone. Her wolf's ears pricked up, alert despite Elena's attempts to keep her suppressed.

They came from the shadows like smoke. Six wolves, massive and deadly, their eyes glowing in the dim light. Warriors. Elite, from the sheer size of them and the coordinated way they moved.

Elena stopped walking. She stood in the center of the clearing they'd herded her into, rain streaming down her face, and waited.

The wolves shifted. Bones cracked and reformed, fur receding into skin. Within seconds, six naked men stood in a circle around her, utterly unconcerned with their nudity. Warriors didn't care about modesty.

But Elena only had eyes for the seventh figure who stepped out from behind an ancient oak.

Xander.

Five years had changed him. Made him harder. Broader. The boy who'd rejected her had grown into something devastating—all sharp edges and controlled power. His dark hair was longer now, pulled back from a face that could've been carved from stone. Scars she didn't recognize marked his chest and arms, pale lines against tan skin.

But his eyes. God, his eyes were exactly the same. Amber-gold, bright as coins, cold as a winter dawn.

They locked onto her and flared molten.

The bond roared.

Elena's knees buckled. Only her grip on Maya kept her upright. The heat between them was instant and vicious, five years of separation exploding into an inferno that stole the breath from her lungs.

Xander moved faster than thought. One moment he stood twenty feet away. The next, Elena's back slammed against rough bark, his hand at her throat, his body caging hers. He was careful—so careful—not to crush Maya between them, but the threat in every line of him was unmistakable.

His scent washed over her. Pine and rain and smoke, achingly familiar, devastating. Her wolf whimpered and tried to tilt her head back, to bare her throat in submission.

Elena snarled at it. At him. At herself.

"You dare return to my lands, Omega? I thought I told you to never show your face in Blackwood again, Elena." His voice had deepened, gone rough with authority and fury. His eyes burned gold, wolf rising to the surface. His canines had dropped, sharp and white. "You think you can just—"

He stopped. His nostrils flared.

His gaze dropped to the bundle in Elena's arms.

Maya chose that moment to cough again, that terrible wet sound, and Xander's entire body went rigid. He froze. He could smell it—the scent of his own blood in the girl, but something else too... something ancient and powerful that shouldn't exist. His hand loosened at Elena's throat. Just slightly.

"Please." The word ripped out of Elena before pride could stop it. She hated how it sounded. Broken. Desperate. "She's dying."