Alpha's Regret After the Divorce

Alpha's Regret After the Divorce

Christina · Ongoing · 145.4k Words

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Introduction

"You were never truly mine."

Those cruel words from my Alpha Rocco shattered everything I believed about love and loyalty. I never imagined the man who marked me had been orchestrating my family's destruction from the very beginning—or that I'd find him cheating on me.

The betrayal didn't just break my heart—it triggered a deadly condition that's slowly killing me. Now, with my father in a coma and my own life hanging by a thread, I'm racing against time to uncover the truth about Lyra Blackwood's fate. The painful treatments keeping me alive are a constant reminder that I may not have long to solve this deadly puzzle.

In a world where pack loyalty means everything and betrayal cuts deeper than silver, can I expose the truth before my time runs out? Or will Rocco's carefully planned revenge claim not just my life, but everything I hold dear?

Chapter 1

Kira's POV

"Fuck me."

The words weren't mine but echoed through my mind with crystal clarity. I froze in my bedroom, one arm halfway into my jacket sleeve. I'd been rushing to make my prenatal check-up at the medical center when the sensation hit—a hot pulse through our bond that wasn't meant for me.

Oh god. Oh no. My vision started going all weird, like someone was yanking me sideways into some mental tunnel. No, it was happening again—that freaky mate bond thing where I could sometimes feel what Rocco was feeling. Except... oh god, no... this wasn't just emotions.

Make it stop. I don't want to see this. Please, I don't want to—

My brain wouldn't listen. The images flooded in, crystal clear and completely fucking devastating.

Rocco. My mate. My husband. The father of my unborn pup.

He was naked, his powerful body moving rhythmically above another woman. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading them wide as he thrust into her with brutal force. The bed frame slammed against the wall with each movement, the sound perfectly synchronized with my racing heartbeat.

"Harder," the woman moaned, her voice eerily familiar. "Don't hold back."

My stomach twisted as I finally saw her face. It was... me? No, not quite. Her features mirrored mine exactly, but her body was fuller, more vibrant where pregnancy had left me tired and swollen.

No. No. No. My knees buckled and I grabbed the dresser to stay upright. This can't be happening. My chest constricted so tight I couldn't breathe.

The room spun around me as bile rose in my throat as my vision showed my husband, Rocco's hands kneaded the woman's breasts roughly, his mouth sucking hard on her nipples while she arched beneath him. His teeth grazed her neck—right where my mating mark was—and she responded by wrapping her legs tighter around his waist, her hips rising to meet his every thrust.

"Your pussy is so much better," he growled against the woman's ear, and the bond between us trembled.

The words sliced through me like silver blades. I doubled over, a strangled sound escaping my lips—part sob, part scream as a sharp pain stabbed through my abdomen, like someone had plunged a silver knife into my womb. I gasped, clutching at my belly as the vision continued, merciless in its clarity.

The bond—our mating bond—was unraveling. I could feel each spiritual thread snapping one by one, like live wires being cut, each break sending electric pain through my body.

This can't be happening. Alpha mates are forever. The bond is sacred. The thoughts tumbled uselessly through my mind as another contraction seized me. He promised. He swore before the moon goddess. He marked me.

I stumbled toward the door, my medical training kicking in despite the emotional devastation. Something was wrong with the pup. At just two months, my pregnancy was still fragile despite the accelerated werewolf gestation.

My hands shook so violently I could barely grip my car keys. Our pup. Our baby. Tears streamed down my face, blurring everything. Please, little one, hold on.

In the car, I gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, trying to focus on the road instead of the continuing vision of my husband with... who was she? The resemblance was uncanny. Could it be...?

"Oh, yeah, just like that, Kim," Rocco groaned in my head. It was her. I'd never seen her for years.

Another wave of pain hit me, and I felt something warm trickle down my thighs. No, no, no. Not my pup. Please.

"Stay with me," I begged, pressing one hand to my abdomen. "Please, baby, don't leave me too. I can't lose you both. I can't—"

Through the bond, I felt Rocco's pleasure building. His movements became more urgent, his breathing harsh. The woman—Kim—was crying out beneath him, her nails leaving red tracks down his back.

"I'm close," she gasped, and he growled in response.

I could barely see the road now, tears blurring my vision as much as the pain. The medical center was just ahead, its modern building a beacon of hope. My wolf instincts were screaming, urging me to faster, to save our pup.

"Kim, yeah..." Rocco roared as he climaxed, the sound echoing through our bond.

At that exact moment, a searing agony ripped through my abdomen. It felt like being torn apart from the inside. I screamed, a primal sound of pure agony. The bond between us—the sacred connection that had joined us as mates—shattered. The steering wheel jerked under my hands, and the car slid sideways, coming to rest against a guardrail just outside the medical center.

Warm wetness soaked my jeans. My hands trembled as I touched the moisture. Blood. So much blood.

"Please, please, moon goddess, don't let it leave me, my pup," I sobbed, trying to push open the car door with failing strength. The darkness closed in from all sides, swallowing me whole.


I woke to blinding white light and the sterile scent of healing herbs. The medical center. A figure in a white coat stood beside my bed, the small crescent moon embroidered on the pocket identifying him as part of the werewolf medical team.

"Lucas," I rasped, recognizing my old college friend and colleague. My throat felt raw, like I'd been screaming for hours. Maybe I had.

His expression was grave. "Kira, I'm so sorry. We couldn't...save the pup."

No! My pup.

The words hit me like a silver bullet straight to the heart. My whole body went cold, then hot, then numb. My baby. My little wolf. Gone.

I curled inward, arms wrapping desperately around my now-empty womb.

My baby. My baby. My baby. The words kept repeating in my head, useless and broken.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head violently. Tears blurred everything, streaming hot down my face. "No, check again. Please. Maybe it's still—" My voice broke.

Why? Why my baby? What did it ever do wrong? I couldn't breathe. Each sob felt like it was tearing something inside me.

Lucas placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I flinched away. I couldn't bear to be touched, not now. My skin crawled where his fingers had been. Everything hurt. Everything.

It's my fault. I should have protected it better. I should have been stronger. My nails dug into my palms until I felt wetness—blood. I didn't care. The physical pain was nothing compared to what was happening inside.

When I could finally speak again, my voice was rough, scraped raw from crying. "What is it?" I could see it in his eyes, the way he couldn't quite meet my gaze. There was more. Something worse, if that was even possible.

Lucas sighed, setting down my chart. "The tests showed... Kira, you have Bondbreak Syndrome."

"You're kidding." My laugh was bitter, edged with hysteria. "That rare disease from old pack tales? The death sentence?" I shook my head violently. "No. Run the tests again. That's not—I can't have—"

"It's real, and it's serious." Lucas sat on the edge of the bed, his face grim. "When a mate bond breaks violently—especially during pregnancy—it can trigger a cascade of physiological failures." His voice softened. "With herbal treatments, you might have one to two years. The treatment will be painful though, similar to human chemotherapy. It'll temporarily suppress your wolf abilities."

I pressed my fists against my temples, trying to block out his words. This couldn't be happening. Not all at once. My husband, my pup, and now my life?

"And without treatment?" The question escaped in a whisper.

"Six months to a year, at most. Each werewolf is different. You'll gradually lose your abilities until you become human, then..." He didn't need to finish.

I stared at my hands, expecting to see them trembling, but they were oddly still. The shock was so complete it had bypassed terror and landed in a strange, numb calm.

"Don't tell anyone," I whispered. "My father's still in a coma. The Silverstone pack has suffered enough." They can't know. Dad can't know. Not if he ever wakes up.

Lucas nodded reluctantly. "I'll keep your confidence."

With shaking hands, I reached for my phone and dialed Rocco's number. Maybe if I told him about my condition, about losing our pup... Would he even care? Would it matter to him that I'm dying?

"Kira." His voice was cold, businesslike. "What is it?"

Before I could speak, I heard a female laugh in the background. "Rocco, come back to bed. I'm not done with you yet."

The voice—so similar to mine yet full of life and happiness—made my decision for me.

"I lost our pup, and I want a divorce," I said flatly, surprised by the steadiness in my voice when everything inside me was crumbling.

A pause. Then a cold chuckle. "Playing games, Kira? Fine by me. I've been waiting for this."

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