Ava POV
I tore through the laboratory like a hurricane.
Every file labeled "Ethan Reed." Every joint project. Every note I had made to help him secure his Alpha status.
*Delete. Delete. Delete.*
I didn't just drag them to the trash bin. I ran a custom-coded scrubbing program I’d designed for scorched-earth scenarios. It wiped the hard drives clean, overwriting the data with zeroes and ones until nothing remained but digital static.
I grabbed the framed photo on my desk. It was the only one we had together—a candid shot from five years ago, where he was actually smiling at me.
I threw it into the incinerator chute.
Glass shattered. Good.
The lab smelled of lavender and sandalwood—a custom scent I had synthesized to help Ethan relax during his ruts. Once, it was the smell of home. Now, the smell made bile rise in my throat.
I grabbed the vial of the scent and smashed it on the floor.
*Ava?*
Ethan’s voice pushed into my mind. It was smooth, dripping with fake concern.
I froze, gripping the edge of the steel table until my knuckles turned white.
*Where did you go?* he asked. *I looked for you at the banquet. I was worried.*
Liar. You were busy playing daddy to Chloe’s bastard.
*I wasn't feeling well, Alpha,* I replied. My mental voice was flat, devoid of the adoration I usually poured into our link. *I returned to the lab.*
*You work too hard,* he said. *Listen, I have a surprise for you later. To make up for tonight. I'm naming the new patent "The Ava Protocol." Isn't that generous?*
Generous? He was stealing the patent I invented and slapping my first name on it like a consolation prize for a dog.
*That is... unexpected,* I said.
*It's an honor,* he corrected, his tone hardening slightly. *Anyway, I can't talk long. Chloe is feeling faint. The excitement is too much for her delicate condition.*
I heard a giggle in the background of the link. A wet, breathy sound.
*Ethan, come back to bed,* Chloe’s voice bled through the connection.
*I have to go,* Ethan said abruptly. *Rest up, Ava. I need you fresh tomorrow.*
The link severed.
I leaned over the sink and dry heaved.
He was with her right now. In the Alpha suite. In the bed I had bought the sheets for.
A sharp cramp twisted my abdomen. I gasped, clutching my stomach.
It wasn't just stress. I had been feeling off for weeks. Nausea. Fatigue. I assumed it was the side effect of the new suppressant prototype I was testing on myself to hide my White Wolf lineage.
The White Wolf wasn't just a bedtime story. We were the rarest of all bloodlines, direct descendants of the Moon Goddess. My blood was liquid power, my scent intoxicating to all Alphas. If Ethan knew what I really was, he would never let me go. He would lock me in a breeding cage and milk my genetics for his pack’s glory.
So I took the drugs. I hid my scent. I played the weak Omega.
The door to the lab hissed open.
Dr. Ben Carter rushed in. He was a Beta, sturdy and kind, with worry lines etched deep around his eyes.
"Ava," he breathed, locking the door behind him. "You sounded terrified in the link. What's wrong?"
He saw the smashed glass glistening on the tiles. The wiped computers humming with blank screens.
"Did he hurt you?" Ben asked, his voice low.
"He killed us, Ben," I whispered. "But he doesn't know it yet."
I sat on the stool, rolling up my sleeve. "I need you to run a blood panel. Now."
"Okay," Ben said, moving immediately. He didn't ask questions. That's why I trusted him.
He drew the blood. He ran the sample through the analyzer.
While we waited, the silence was heavy.
"I saw the photos," Ben said softly, looking at the floor. "Of him and Chloe."
"You knew?"
"Rumors," he said. "I didn't want to believe it. Ethan is... ambitious. But I didn't think he was cruel."
"He is both," I said.
The machine beeped.
Ben ripped the printout from the tray. He scanned it. His eyes went wide. He looked at the paper, then at me, then back at the paper.
"Ava," he choked out.
"What? Is it the suppressants? Is my liver failing?"
"No," Ben said. He walked over and handed me the paper. His hand was shaking.
"You're pregnant."
The world tilted on its axis.
I stared at the numbers. HCG levels elevated.
"Four weeks," Ben said.
Four weeks ago. The night of the full moon. Ethan had come to my room, drunk on moonlight and instinct. He hadn't marked me, but he had knotted with me. He claimed it was "biological necessity."
I touched my flat stomach.
A baby.
An Alpha heir. The *real* Alpha heir.
"Oh goddess," I whispered.
"There's a problem," Ben said, his voice urgent. "The suppressants. They are toxic to a fetus. If you keep taking them, you will miscarry within days."
"And if I stop?" I asked, looking up at him.
"If you stop taking them," Ben said grimly, "your natural scent will return. Your White Wolf pheromones will flood the Pack House within forty-eight hours."
I closed my eyes.
If I stop the drugs, Ethan finds out I'm a White Wolf. He will claim me, not out of love, but out of greed for my genetics. He will take my baby and raise it with Chloe.
If I keep taking the drugs, I kill my child.
"Ava," Ben said. "What are we going to do?"
I looked at the incinerator where Ethan’s photo had turned to ash.
I stood up. I picked up a shard of the broken glass from the floor. It cut my finger. The pain was sharp, grounding.
"We are going to burn it all down, Ben," I said.
"But the baby..."
"I'm keeping it," I said fiercely. "But Ethan Reed will never know this child exists."
