When I died, the blood of the fetus was still hot on my belly hair. The Alpha who claimed to “mark” my entire body finally marked me permanently with his fangs. Now, I have become a ghost wolf entangled between his bed curtains, watching him cramp every night due to guilt. Thorn always said he wanted to conquer me – now every breath of his is under my control. How interesting it is when this arrogant wolf king starts to whimper like courtship to the air… When I opened my eyes again, I found myself at Alpha Thorne Blackwood and his childhood friend Beta Livia Frost’s mating ceremony. Livia was wearing the pure white ceremonial gown that Alpha Thorne had custom-made for me—a gown worth millions, woven with moon-silver threads blessed by the Pack Seer. She clutched his hand, her claws retracted in false delicacy, her smile dripping with smug satisfaction as her golden wolf eyes gleamed in triumph. At this, my ghostly form trembled, phantom tears burning in my eyes. A growl built in my throat, but when I lunged forward to stop them, my spectral body passed right through theirs. The realization struck like a silver dagger to the heart. I was already dead. What remained of me was nothing more than a restless spirit, bound to the living world by grief and fury. Before despair could fully claim me, the gathered pack members began chanting, their voices rising in unison. “Claim her! Mark her!” Most of these wolves had once been our friends—Alpha Thorne’s and mine. Not long ago, they had whispered their pity for me, swearing that even if he took Livia as his mate, they would never stand for such betrayal. Yet now, they bared their throats in submission to him, their loyalty shifting like the wind. I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. Of course. Their kindness had always been about currying favor with the Alpha. Now that Livia stood at his side, why would they spare a thought for a dead she-wolf like me? But one voice still dared to speak against the tide. “Alpha Thorne,” a young Omega murmured, “this is too cruel to Luna Sylva. What if something’s happened to her?” Alpha Thorne swirled his goblet of blood-red wine, his ice-blue eyes flickering with disinterest. “Sylva brought this on herself. After the ceremony, I’ll release her. The den has enough food to keep her alive. She’s been spoiled too long—a little suffering will do her good.” He didn’t know. I was already dead. And he had killed me with his own claws. A week ago, Alpha Thorne had demanded I agree to a false mating bond with Beta Livia, who carried another wolf’s pup and needed his name to shield her from disgrace. I refused. “If she needs a pretend mate, let her find another Beta—or better yet, the father of her pup. Why must it be you, a bonded Alpha? She’s scheming!” He snarled at me, accusing me of petty jealousy, and we fought like feral beasts. In the past, I would have bowed my head, submitting to his will just to keep the peace. But this time, I stood my ground—even threatening to sever our bond if he went through with it. I never imagined he’d secretly complete the mating rites with Livia behind my back. When I saw them under the full moon, their scents entwined as the Pack Elder blessed their union, the shock sent me into early labor. My pup kicked violently, and my waters broke right there in the sacred circle. Alpha Thorne halted the ceremony, lifting me into his arms with a snarl of concern. For one fleeting moment, I thought he was taking me to the Pack Healer. Instead, he carried me to the abandoned dens of Moonwood Territory and locked me inside, ordering me to “reflect on my disobedience.” It was him. My own mate. The one who led me to my death. As I watched from the shadows, Alpha Thorne suddenly stiffened, his nostrils flaring as if catching a distant scent. He turned to Beta Garrick, his second-in-command. “Go check on Luna Sylva. If she’s ready to apologize to Livia, we’ll let her out.” A bitter laugh escaped me. Apologize? For what? I had done nothing wrong. I hadn’t lied—I had been in labor. But under Beta Livia’s sly whispers, Alpha Thorne believed I’d faked it, that I’d humiliated him by losing control of my body in front of the entire pack. He trusted her over his own Luna. Seeing his hesitation, Livia pressed a delicate hand to her belly, her voice trembling with false concern. “Alpha Thorne, even though Luna Sylva lost control and attacked me earlier… she’s still carrying your heir. If something happened to her… Perhaps you should release her.” She lowered her eyes, the picture of wounded grace. “This time, I’ll protect my pup better. She can hate me all she wants, but my child is innocent…” Earlier, when I’d burst into their ceremony, Livia had taunted me with whispered barbs only I could hear—”He’ll never choose a weak she-wolf like you over me.” The hormones, the fury, the betrayal—it shattered my control. I lunged. But before I could reach her, she collapsed, howling in “pain,” her claws tearing at her own gown for effect. That was why Alpha Thorne locked me away. Now, hearing Livia’s false plea, he cupped her face, his voice softening. “No one will harm you or your pup while I live.” Then, to Beta Garrick, cold as winter frost: “Tell Luna Sylva she’ll stay confined until she begs Livia’s forgiveness.” Livia nuzzled against his shoulder, her tail flicking smugly. “You’re so good to us, Alpha.” The pack erupted in laughter, their voices merging into a chorus of encouragement. “Just make her your true mate, Alpha Thorne! You and Livia have been bonded since pup-hood—how could a mere human-turned-wolf compare?” Livia ducked her head in feigned shyness, her claws teasing the edge of Alpha Thorne’s ceremonial cloak. I braced for him to agree. But his growl silenced them all. “Enough. Livia and I are bound only for appearances. Luna Sylva is possessive—if she hears this nonsense, she’ll—” He cut himself off, and my ghostly heart ached. Hollow words. If he truly cared, he wouldn’t have mated her at all. Livia’s smile turned venomous, the air thickening with tension—until Alpha Thorne’s phone shattered the silence. Thinking it was me calling to surrender, he answered with a sharp, “Sylva, you—” But the voice on the other end was a stranger’s. “Are you Luna Sylva Blackwood’s mate? This is Healer Grant from Silverfang Clinic. We’ve lost contact with her. Her whelping date is near—when will you bring her in?” Alpha Thorne froze. “Whelping date? She’s only six months along.” A pause. Then, the Healer’s voice turned icy. “Six months? Alpha, she’s eight months pregnant. The pup could come any night. How do you not know your own mate’s condition?”
Alpha Thorne Blackwood froze, his claws unsheathing as his grip on the phone turned the metal casing to crumpled scrap. His golden eyes burned with a feral intensity, his wolf scent spiking with shock. Watching his stunned expression, I let out a hollow, spectral growl. It had been a critical time for the Blackwood Pack’s alliance with the Silvermane Trading Guild, so I’d hidden my true whelping date for two moons to avoid distracting him. I’d told him I was only six months along. But if my Alpha had ever bothered to scent my den, he would’ve found the healer’s scrolls in my drawer—proof of the pup’s true due date. If he’d cared, I could never have concealed it. The truth was simple: his wolf had never truly been mine. A low-ranking Delta in the crowd dared to mutter, “So Luna Sylva didn’t just lose control of her bladder? Her waters truly broke?” Alpha Thorne’s head snapped up, his snarl ripping through the air as he pinned Beta Garrick with a glare that promised violence. “Garrick. You escorted her to every healer’s visit. You swore she was only six moons pregnant. Explain.” Beta Garrick dropped his gaze, baring his throat in submission—but not out of respect. Out of guilt. He should feel guilty. He’d helped murder me. When my labor had started, I’d howled for my mate through the pack bond, begging for help. But Beta Garrick, who knew the truth, had intervened. “She’s lying, Alpha. The healer confirmed it’s too early.” And Livia, that venomous she-wolf, had woven her poison: “She’s humiliating you on purpose, Alpha. Pissing herself like a frightened pup to ruin your ceremony.” With their words echoing in his ears, Alpha Thorne had dragged me to the abandoned Moonwood Dens and locked me inside. The moment the door slammed shut, the pain had torn through me—crippling, wrong. I’d crumpled to the floor, blood pooling beneath me as my pup fought to survive. I’d clawed at Beta Garrick’s boots, my voice raw. *”Please… the pup—*our pup—” He’d sneered down at me, his boot crushing my fingers. Then, with a merciless snarl, he’d kicked my swollen belly—once, twice—until the world went dark. By the time the bleeding stopped, my pup was nothing but a lifeless scrap of fur in my arms. Now, as Beta Garrick hesitated, Livia slithered forward, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Alpha Thorne, I never thought Luna Sylva would stoop so low. Faking illness, lying to healers… all to manipulate you.” She pressed a delicate hand to his chest. “If it were me, I’d never shame my mate like this.” Alpha Thorne’s growl deepened, his canines flashing as he snarled into the phone, “Tell Luna Sylva her games end now. I won’t indulge her tantrums.” He crushed the phone in his palm, and Livia’s eyes gleamed with victory. After the ceremony, as the pack dispersed, Livia clung to Alpha Thorne’s arm, her voice a purr. “Take me to your den tonight, Alpha. If we’re to sell this mating, we must commit.” His muscles tensed. He’d sworn to me—under the full moon—that no other she-wolf would ever enter our shared den. But Livia’s claws pricked his skin, her eyes wet with calculated tears. “What will the pack say if I slink home alone? A pregnant, unmated Beta? I’ll be ruined.” With a resigned growl, he yielded. He cared for her reputation—but not enough to realize he’d signed my death warrant. When they crossed the threshold of our den, the elderly Pack Mother Laura greeted them—then stiffened at the sight of Livia. “Welcome home, Alpha Thorne and… Beta Livia.” Livia’s smile turned lethal. She dug her claws into Alpha Thorne’s arm, whispering, “They must believe this is real.” His jaw clenched, but he commanded, “Call her Luna.” My ghostly heart shattered. He’d vowed I’d be his only Luna. Pack Mother Laura bristled. “Luna Sylva will be devastated—” “When she returns,” Alpha Thorne interrupted, “we’ll revert the titles. For now, Livia is Luna.” Livia strutted into the bedroom, draping herself in my furs, my moonstone jewelry, smearing my berry-stain across her lips like a claim. Alpha Thorne said nothing. When Pack Mother Laura opened her muzzle to protest, he cut her off. “Prepare roasted elk ribs and sun-gilded pheasant. Livia favors them.” His voice softened. “No wolfsbane or fire-peppers. They upset her stomach.” A whimper escaped me. He’d shared my bed for years yet never remembered my allergy to moonfin. But Livia’s every whim was etched into his bones. I’d thought him indifferent. Now I saw the truth: his wolf simply hadn’t been mine to tame. Then Livia spotted it—the scarf I’d woven for him, its threads laced with my scent, embroidered with LJB: “Love Thorne Blackwood.” Her snarl ripped through the room as she shredded it with her claws. “Even dead, you cling to him, you pathetic human-turned-wolf! You were never his true mate!” I recoiled. How did she know I was dead? Before I could react, Alpha Thorne burst in—and froze at the sight of the tattered scarf at Livia’s feet. His eyes bled to wolf.
Alpha Thorne’s claws twitched as his golden eyes locked onto the shredded scarf. “Beta Livia, what have you done?” My spirit wavered, a phantom whine escaping my throat. For a fleeting moment, hope flickered – did the scarf’s destruction pain him because his wolf still recognized me as mate? Before I could process this, Livia’s eyes flooded with crocodile tears, her lower lip trembling in perfect mimicry of distress. “Alpha, I just… the scarf smelled so much like you. I wanted to feel it against my skin, but my claws…” She held up her perfectly manicured hands where not a single claw was unsheathed. “This has your initials – did Luna Sylva make it? I’m so sorry…” The lie stank worse than rotted prey. The scarf hadn’t torn – it had been slashed with surgical precision. Yet Alpha Thorne’s shoulders relaxed, his growl softening as he grasped her wrists with tender concern. “It’s just fabric. Are you hurt?” His thumb brushed her unmarked palm. “If you like it, I’ll have Sylva weave you another.” Ice flooded my spectral veins. Not anger at my gift’s destruction. Not outrage at her trespass. Just… concern for her. And the casual cruelty of demanding I craft another – as if the months spent spinning moonlight-infused threads under the full moon meant nothing. As if my love was merely pack tribute to be reassigned at his whim. I tried to retreat, to dissolve into the shadows, but the mate bond – even in death – chained me to his side. All I could do was turn my ghostly muzzle away. Emboldened by his leniency, Livia pressed closer, her scent dripping with false heat. “Your den feels so empty tonight, Alpha. Let me warm your nest-” Thorne recoiled as if burned, his sudden snarl shaking the walls. “Enough! This farce ends at the threshold.” He pointed to the guest chamber, his canines glinting. “You sleep there.” The moment the door closed behind her, Alpha Thorne’s composure shattered. He paced the scent-marked floors, digging his claws into the furs where we’d once mated. After three restless circles, he snatched his phone, obsessively scrolling through our bond-messages – all frozen at yesterday’s dawn. A frustrated growl rumbled through him as he typed: [Still defiant? One apology is all it takes to come home, little wolf. Must you always bare your throat last?] The screen remained dark. Not because I wouldn’t answer… but because no spirit can breach the veil of death. When morning came, shadows darkened his usually vibrant golden eyes. He grabbed the phone before even stretching, typing with uncharacteristic haste: [Enough punishment. I’m coming to the den now.] But as he reached for the door, Livia materialized like a specter, her claws digging into his forearm. “Alpha, my kin already feast in celebration of our union. The Frostfang Elders demand to scent your claim on me.” Her voice dropped to a poisoned whisper. “Or shall I tell them their new Alpha breaks oaths like a human?” The threat hung between them – her pregnancy with another wolf’s pup was their secret, but her family’s alliance was his pack’s lifeline. His hesitation lasted only a heartbeat before he reached for his ceremonial cloak… and her waiting claws closed around his wrist in triumph.
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