My Alpha Believed His Mistress and Tried to Kill Me

I wake to the sound of nothing. The silence in the Blood Moon pack house is a living thing, pressing against my skin like a physical weight. Five years of this suffocating quiet have taught me to move like a ghost through my own home, my bare feet finding the path across the cold hardwood floor without making a sound.

I glance at the clock—6:30 AM. Nicolas will be downstairs in the training room by now. My stomach tightens at the thought of him, my mate, the man I saved and the man who now lives in terror of the sound of my voice.

In the bathroom, I perform my morning ritual in complete silence. No humming, no water running unnecessarily, no clinking of bottles. My hands move through the motions with practiced precision, applying the special scent-neutralizing lotion Simone insists will keep my natural fragrance from triggering Nicolas's episodes. The irony isn't lost on me—I'm suppressing every part of myself to keep him sane.

A young Omega named Lily enters with my clothes, her eyes downcast as she places them on the vanity. I offer her a small smile, but it's met with fear. She hands me a note: "Luna, the Alpha has requested you join him for breakfast. He says it's important."

My heart skips. Breakfast together is rare, a treat I cherish despite the tension that always hangs between us. I nod my thanks, and Lily scurries away, relieved to escape my presence.

Downstairs, I navigate the creaky floorboards like a minefield, my steps careful and measured. A cough builds in my throat, and I swallow it down hard, tasting blood. The pain is worth avoiding the sound that could send my mate into a frenzy.

As I approach the dining room, I spot Simone leaving with her medical bag. She pauses when she sees me, her perfect smile never reaching her eyes.

"Good morning, Luna," she says, her voice pitched low and soothing—the only voice Nicolas can tolerate. "I've just checked on the Alpha. He's doing well today. Isn't that wonderful?"

I nod, not trusting my hands to sign accurately enough to respond. Simone's presence makes my skin crawl, but I can't show it. Not when she holds so much power over my mate's condition.

Left alone, I slip into the bathroom one last time before breakfast. My hands tremble slightly as I pull a pregnancy test from beneath the loose floorboard where I've hidden it. After five years of trying, of hoping, could this finally be the answer?

I follow the instructions, my heart pounding as I wait those agonizing minutes. When I look down, two pink lines stare back at me.

Positive.

The heir. Our heir.

Joy—pure, unbridled joy—surges through me like wildfire. This could fix everything. A baby might heal the broken bond between us. I could be a proper Luna, a mother to the future Alpha.

Without thinking, I let out a squeal of delight, the sound piercing and high-pitched. For one glorious moment, I forget everything—the silence, the rules, the fear. I am simply a woman celebrating the miracle growing inside her.

The sound echoes through the hallway, bouncing off the walls like a living thing. I freeze, horror dawning as I realize what I've done.

From downstairs comes a crash, followed by a low, animalistic growl. My blood turns to ice.

Nicolas.

His footsteps thunder up the stairs, each one a death knell to my heart. The bathroom door flies open with such force that it splinters against the wall. My mate stands there, but the man I love is gone. His eyes are pitch black, his face contorted in rage, his body trembling with barely contained violence.

"No," I breathe, the word barely audible as I step backward, my hand instinctively moving to protect my stomach.

But there is no recognition in those black eyes. Only the beast.