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When I discovered I was carrying Waylon’s pup, the Alpha of the Martin Pack spared no expense in ensuring my well-being. He brought in Dr. Ramon Salazar, our pack’s most trusted Healer, to prescribe the finest prenatal supplements. Though Waylon had never been one to show reverence to the Moon Goddess, he visited the sacred grove—a place of worship among our kind—and prayed fervently for the safe arrival of our child. “My Luna,” he said, his voice soft but laced with his commanding alpha tone, “you’ve been through so much. Once the pup arrives, I promise to make it up to you.” That same day, I accidentally answered his phone. “Alpha Martin, as per your instructions, the prenatal supplements for your Luna contain a herb to ensure the pup isn’t born alive.” “Aspen Baker’s pup is thriving and will undoubtedly succeed as the heir to the Martin Pack.” “Your Luna will never suspect a thing, and your bond with her will remain intact. Rest assured.” I stared at my growing belly, my heart shattering into pieces. His love was nothing but a lie. With no ties left to bind me, I prepared to leave, though the mate bond still burned faintly within me.