The Pregnant Luna He Chose To Ignore

Damien POV

The notification hit my phone like a physical blow, vibrating against my palm with the weight of a gavel strike.

Status Update: Legal Dissolution of Bond. Finalized.

I stared at the screen until the pixels burned into my retinas. It was done. The law recognized what my heart refused to process. On paper, and in the eyes of the pack, we were strangers.

The silence in my temporary city office was shattered as the door burst open.

Marcus, my Beta, walked in. He looked ill, a sheen of cold sweat glistening on his forehead despite the aggressive hum of the air conditioning. He held a manila envelope with two hands, as if it contained a live grenade.

Victoria followed him in, a smirk playing on her lips. She looked radiant, pristine and untouched by the chaos currently unraveling my soul.

"Finally," she said, her gaze flicking to the phone in my hand. "I told you it was for the best. She was weak, Damien. She would have dragged the pack down."

She tossed a piece of paper onto the mahogany desk. It slid across the polished surface, stopping just under my hand. "And look at this. I had the doctor run a DNA test on the... remains found at the scene. Just to be sure."

My stomach lurched. I looked at the paper. It was a jumble of medical jargon, cold clinical terms for something that should have been life, but the conclusion was highlighted in neon yellow.

Inconclusive.

"It was probably a mercy," Victoria said, examining her manicured fingernails as if discussing the weather. "She couldn't even carry a child to term. Imagine if it had lived? It would have been defective."

Something inside me snapped.

It wasn't a thought; it was a physical fracture, a loud, violent crack in the center of my chest.

"Shut up," I said. It didn't sound like me. It came out as a low, feral growl.

Victoria froze, her hand pausing mid-air. "Excuse me?"

"I said shut up!" I roared.

I swept my arm across the desk in a blind rage. The lamp, the files, the expensive crystal decanter-everything went flying. Glass shattered against the wall, a symphony of destruction. Ink splattered across the Persian rug like black blood.

"You don't know her," I spat, standing up so abruptly my chair toppled over behind me. "You don't get to speak about her."

Victoria took a step back, genuine fear flickering in her eyes for the first time. "Damien, you're being irrational. I'm just trying to help you see-"

"Get out," I whispered.

Then, I let the Alpha command bleed into my voice, shaking the room. "Get out!"

She fled. The sound of her heels clicking rapidly down the hallway faded into silence.

I was alone with Marcus. He hadn't moved. He was still holding that envelope, his knuckles white.

"Where is she, Marcus?" I asked. My voice was shaking, the adrenaline crash leaving me hollow. "I want her location. Now."

Marcus swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Alpha... we don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Call her friends."

"She didn't have any," Marcus said quietly, his eyes fixed on the floor. "You didn't allow her to socialize outside the pack."

The accusation hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

"Call her family."

"Her father's company is a shell corporation. We don't have a direct line."

I ran a hand through my hair, pulling at the roots, trying to ground myself in the physical pain. "Think, Marcus! What did she like? Where did she go? What was her degree in?"

Marcus looked up at me then. His expression wasn't fearful; it was filled with a pity so profound it felt like a slap.

"She studied Architecture, Alpha. But she never practiced. You told her the pack needed a full-time Luna."

I froze.

The memory hit me-her excited face holding a portfolio, and my dismissive wave.

I didn't know her.

I had lived with her for three years. I had slept in the same bed. I had marked her neck.

But I didn't know her favorite color. I didn't know her coffee order. I didn't know a single dream she had because I had crushed them all before she could even speak them aloud.

The door creaked open again, dragging me out of my spiraling thoughts.

It was the Pack Seer, an old woman with milky, sightless eyes who rarely left the sanctuary of the caves. She hobbled in, her cane tapping a rhythmic warning against the floorboards.

"The balance is off," she croaked, her voice sounding like dry leaves skittering on pavement.

"Not now," I said, turning away, unable to deal with riddles.

"The child," she said.

I flinched. "Victoria's son is healthy. The heir is safe."

The Seer laughed. It was a dry, rattling sound that made the hair on my arms stand up. "That child is not the firstborn. The mother has birthed before. Years ago."

The room stopped spinning. It just tilted violently on its axis.

"What?" I whispered.

"Victoria has a child," the Seer said, her blind eyes seeming to bore straight through me. "A pup from another pack. Hidden. But the true heir... the Star... is gone."

I looked at Marcus. He looked as shocked as I felt.

Victoria had lied. About everything.

And Elena?

I had ignored her pregnancy for eight months. I hadn't asked about the baby. I hadn't felt the kicks. I had assumed... God, I had assumed she was just gaining weight. I had assumed she was letting herself go.

I was blind. I was stupid. And I was too late.

"Pack the car," I told Marcus. My voice was dead calm, a terrifying contrast to the storm raging inside me.

"Where are we going, Alpha?"

"We are going to find my wife," I said, my wolf rising to the surface, ready to tear the world apart to find her. "And God help anyone who stands in my way."

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