No Love for the Alpha
When I was three months pregnant, a pack of Rogues ambushed me.
In the last moments before my consciousness began to fade, I begged for rescue through my mind-link to my Alpha mate, Adrian.
But he never answered.
I was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment, only to be informed that the Saint-Tier Healer had been forcefully taken South by Adrian to treat Evelyn, his first love, after she lost her mate.
When I woke to the pain of losing my pup, my fingers shook as I checked social media, then I saw Evelyn's post: [I knew that no matter how far away I am or how much time has passed, Adrian would always come for me. He even brought a Saint-Tier Healer to ease the pain in my heart.]
In the photo, Adrian's dark eyes, which were usually cold and distant, were focused on the woman beside him with tenderness.
While I was fighting for my life and losing our cub, my Alpha was protecting another pregnant wolf.
I chuckled at myself bitterly. It felt as if the bond mark on my chest was withering away. I then dialed a number without hesitation. "Dr. Clark, I accept the position at the Northern Ancient Wolf Research Institute. Yes, the sooner the better. I won't be holding a farewell ceremony."