Banished by My Mate After Our Pup Died

The moment I hit “post” on my comment, my phone rang.

Alpha Brian.

“Linda,” he snapped the moment I answered, “what the hell is that comment supposed to mean? Are you cursing my heir?”

“I told you—Vivian and I are fated mates. She’s carrying my pup. It’s only right that I protect her.”

His voice turned colder. “You broke into Vivian’s herb garden, destroyed the gate, and trampled her rare herbs. You and that daughter of yours—are you deliberately trying to provoke us?”

He didn’t ask how Anna was. Not once.

He didn’t ask if she survived the venom. Didn’t ask if she was breathing. Didn’t ask if I was okay.

Instead, he barked, “Bring that impure-blooded girl back here and kneel—you both owe Vivian an apology. If you don’t, you’ll be banished from the Black Hawk Pack!”

I said nothing.

My hands were still raw and trembling, the skin torn and blistered from swinging an axe again and again to break open the thorn cage that had held my daughter like a prisoner.

Not far from me, the pack doctor was bent over Anna’s tiny, lifeless body, carefully removing the soul-eating spider’s venomous barb from her neck.

The venom had already spread too far.

I swallowed the ache burning my throat and replied, voice hollow, “Alpha Brian… Anna has already returned to the Moon Goddess.”

There was silence.

Then—

"Linda, you’re sick!” he roared. “To get my attention, you’d pretend your own daughter is dead?! What kind of twisted game is this?”

In the background, I heard a woman’s breathy giggle.

Vivian.

And then, her syrupy voice, sweet and venomous all at once: “Don’t waste your time on her, Alpha. She’s just a weak little Omega who can’t even shift. She’s not worth your anger.”

I could practically see her smug face through the phone.

Her hands on her belly, cradling the so-called heir. Her lips curled into that mocking smile.

I knew then that Brian would never care about Anna’s death. Not when he had a new pup growing inside someone he wanted.

“I’m leaving my wedding ring on the dresser,” I whispered, my voice shaking from exhaustion. “I, Linda, reject you, Alpha Brian, as my mate. From now on, you and your beloved Vivian can rot in each other’s arms.”

As soon as the words left my lips, the front door creaked open.

Two elderly figures stepped inside—Old Alpha and Old Luna. Their backs were stooped with age, but their presence was steady, commanding. They leaned on their canes as they glanced around the room.

“Where’s Anna?” Old Luna asked, breathless. “What happened to our little girl?”

I tried to hold it in. I tried to stay strong.

But the moment Old Luna pulled me into her arms, my walls shattered.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, burying my face in her shoulder. “I couldn’t save her—I’m a terrible mother—I couldn’t protect my baby!”

She wrapped her arms tightly around me, rocking gently as we both wept.

Old Alpha stepped forward, his voice trembling as he inspected Anna’s still form. He reached down with shaking hands, brushed her hair from her forehead, and then whispered a prayer.

Then he turned, eyes blazing.

“I ordered every soul-eating spider nest burned to ash. How did one make it into Vivian’s private herb garden?”

His voice cracked with fury. “That bastard Brian—he must’ve let them return. All to please that mistress of his!”

I gave a bitter smile, too broken to argue.

Brian knew Anna was allergic to spider venom. He’d once gone to great lengths to protect her—had the school grounds cleared, the packhouse fumigated, even the company daycare sanitized.

But all of that stopped the day Vivian came back.

The day she slithered into our lives with her smile, her secrets, and her lies.