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 Rejecting the Alpha Who Used My Womb
 Rejecting the Alpha Who Used My Womb

Rejecting the Alpha Who Used My Womb

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In Rejecting the Alpha Who Used My Womb, Isabel flees a betrayal involving a fated mate. This werewolf romance novel follows her escape to Ydoria Town to rebuild her life. Read novels online to see if she can maintain her new freedom when the Alpha tracks her down to beg for forgiveness.

Chapter 1 of Rejecting the Alpha Who Used My Womb

Five years ago, I bound my life to Charles Sterling, the golden wolf of Ferralon Town, in a sacred ceremony that felt like a dream.

Now, I'm standing in the ashes of that dream, trying to set up a bank deposit as a gift for my twin pups, Adrian and Ivy.

I thought it'd be a simple gesture, a way to secure their future.

But the clerk she wolf at the office shakes her head, her eyes cold as she slides my documents back across the counter.

"Sorry, ma'am," she says, "this account can only be handled by the pups' parents."

I blink, confused.

" I'm their mother."

Her gaze sharpens, almost pitying.

"The registry scrolls don't lie-Charles sired them, true enough. But their dam? Colette Fontaine. Not a drop of your blood in those cubs."

I go rigid, mind dissolving into static.

Colette-my own kin, Charles's fated first, the she-wolf his lunar core still thrums for.

The Sterlings and Fontaines? Blood feuds older than the moon, their claws rent through generations, ties severed long ago.

Yet these cubs-mine, after ten moons of carrying, after nearly bleeding out to birth them-are hers?

I head straight for Sterling council offices. My fingerprint gets me into the top-floor office, but the door's cracked open, and voices spill out. It's his Beta, his tone casual but sharp.

"Charles, Colette's slinking back into town tonight-you really think a welcome feast's wise? Your packs have been snapping at each other's throats. "

"I understand," Charles replies, his voice carrying a faint, imperceptible hoarseness,

"The Sterling code forbids binding with a Fontaine she-wolf. I'm bound now, a family wolf. Colette's just a friend."

"Friend?"

His beta laughs, bitter.

"When she fled overseas, you howled till your throat bled-moon-mad, vowing love died with her. "Settle," you grunted. But Isabel? Not kin. You chained her to your shadow because her scent mirrored Colette's, used moon-cursed science to plant your bloodline in her.  She's so devoted to them, she'd never suspect they're not hers."

I grip the edge of the table, my fingers digging into the polished wood until my knuckles burn.

"Honestly, I can almost summon a shred of pity for her," the beta drawls, his voice low enough to rattle like gravel in a hollow skull.

""She orbits you like a star caught in your gravitational pull, her devotion carved into her very bones-thinks you're the axis the pack's world spins on. If she ever sniffs out the truth? That she's nothing but a vessel to carry your bloodline, a warm body to tend your cubs without so much as a claim mark to her name? Her spirit'd shatter like a mirror under a full moon. "

Charles's voice drops, heavy with something like regret, but it's cold, too.

"I'll never let her find out. As compensation, she'll live as my Luna, envied by every she-wolf in the pack."

The world spins.

I reel from the building, sleet slashing my face like shards of ice.

The storm's fury hammers down-hailstones cracking against my skull, as memories claw through my veins.

Five years back, my parents lured me into a hotel room with lies. The wolf they'd planted there was ancient, his face a slack mask of leathered flesh, his breath reeking like carrion as he loomed closer. It was a snare-my own folks slipped something into my drink, ready to hand me over for a fifty-thousand-dollar dowry, all to prop up my brother's worthless hide.

I fought like hell, broke free, and crashed into a wolf's arms.

When he stepped closer, I lunged-half-crawling, half-collapsing into his shadow, my palms flattening against his chest as if his body might leach the fire from mine. "Please," I gasped, voice cracking into a whimper, "make it stop."

His brow knotted, muscles coiling like he might fling me off in an instant-but then his gaze hit my face. Something black and hungry flickered in his eyes, a storm unloosed. "I can fix this," he grated, voice sandpaper-rough.​

"But it costs. I crave a she-wolf I can never claim. You. you're her shadow made flesh. Let me ease the fire, and you'll wear my mark. Be her when I need it. Deal?"

The words sliced through the fog-sharp, brutal, clear.

I wasn't chattel to be bartered, not even for survival.

My jaw tightened, tongue coiling to spit "no"-until I met his gaze.​

Charles. The wolf I'd ached for in silence, the pack's sun made flesh, now staring at me like I held the moon in my palms. My resolve splintered.​

"Deal," I breathed, the word bleeding from my lips before I could stop it.

His hand gripped the back of my neck, and his kiss fell like soft rain. I knew I was a substitute, but it was Charles, so I let myself fall.

Soon after, he gave me a binding ceremony that dazzled the whole pack.

Five years-he played the devoted mate so flawlessly, even the pack elders whispered of his devotion. What other she-wolves scraped for, I drowned in. Relics from moonlit hunts, hoarded for centuries? Laid at my feet.​

When our cubs quickened in my womb, he shredded billion-dollar contracts without a second glance. His hands-calloused from clawing through underbrush, steady as stone during pack trials-gentled over my belly, stirring broth with the care. He never missed a healer's moonrise check, his voice rumbling low as he spoke to them.

They arrived, and suddenly he'd tear himself from work, no matter the hour, to tuck them in. I let myself believe-foolishly-that love for them had spilled over, that I was no longer just Colette's ghost. That time had finally softened him, turned his gaze to me.

But no. He loved their mother, yes. Just not me. Colette was the one. I? A hollow thing. A means to an end.

The rain soaks me through as I sob, but I still call the housekeeper to fetch Adrian and Ivy from their piano lesson.

They're not mine, not by blood, but I've raised them, loved them, given them every piece of me for five years.

They're my heart.

Now, knowing the truth, I don't know how to face them.

I stumble home, drenched.

"Mommy's home!" Ivy trills, her tiny feet pattering across the floor.

"Mommy's dripping! Hurry and change, or you'll catch a chill!" Adrian pipes up, his brows furrowed like a little grown-up.

My throat tightens, tears burning behind my eyes.

"Don't worry-" I start, but a scream cuts me off.

The pups shove me, hard.

I'm not ready for it, and I tumble down the stairs, my forehead splitting open, blood dripping as pain blinds me. I collapse, the world fading.

"Mommy! Mommy, open your eyes! Please!" Adrian's voice shakes, thick with panic. He drops to his knees beside me, his little fingers brushing my cheek hesitantly, like he's scared I'll break.

"The blood... it won't stop. Don't go to sleep, okay? I can't... I can't let you. Now she won't stop us from going to Colette's welcome feast!" Adrian cheers.

"Daddy, hurry up! Colette's the best-let's go find her, please?!" Ivy begs, her tone syrupy sweet but sharp as a pin.

I force my eyes open a sliver.

Charles is there, his brow barely creased before his face smooths out.

"See to my mate," he murmurs to the staff, then curls his fingers around the kids' wrists and starts toward the door.

"Remember what I said," he tells them, voice steady as stone, "when it's Colette or your mother, Colette comes first. Always. But try not to be so blunt next time."

Adrian huffs, a little sneer twisting his mouth. "Why bother? She's just a silly placeholder. We lie to her all the time-some dumb story'll make her forget. She always does."

"Yeah," Ivy giggles, her eyes bright with a cruelty too sharp for a child. "If Colette could be our real mommy, I wouldn't mind one bit if she just... vanished. Or worse."

Their voices trail off as the door clicks shut, not a single glance over their shoulders. I lie there, blood seeping into the carpet, tears carving hot paths down my cheeks, when a cracked, bitter laugh bursts from me.

This is the mate I loved until my bones ached. These are the children I built my world around for years. They were never mine.

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