I Accepted My Alpha’s Rejection While Carrying His Pup Chapter 04

I Accepted My Alpha’s Rejection While Carrying His Pup Chapter 04

Rhett’s claws were an inch from my throat.

“The Alpha wants his mate back,” he snarled.

Then he inhaled.

And froze.

“She’s carrying,” he whispered.

Five Blackridge wolves went dead silent in the snow.

Grandma’s shotgun clicked behind them.

And from the dark trees, something enormous began to growl.

It wasn’t a normal growl. It was deep enough to shake the snow off the pine branches. Deep enough that every Blackridge wolf flattened their ears at once.

Rhett’s grip loosened on my arm.

A wolf stepped out of the forest.

He was twice the size of any wolf I’d ever seen. Black as midnight, with eyes like burning gold. Every step he took, the ground seemed to hold its breath.

Rhett let go of me completely.

“Lycan,” one of the warriors breathed.

By the time the beast reached the porch light, it was a man. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, wearing a long black coat like he’d been born in it. His face was calm. Almost bored.

That was somehow more terrifying.

“You’re on my land, Blackridge,” he said quietly.

Rhett swallowed. “King Caspian. This is pack business. She belongs to Alpha Kane.”

“She belongs to no one. She accepted his rejection. I felt that bond snap across three territories last night.” His gold eyes moved to the claw marks on my arm. His voice dropped. “And you put your hands on a pregnant woman in my kingdom.”

Nobody moved.

“Leave,” the Lycan King said. “While I’m still asking.”

They left. Fast. Tails practically between their legs.

Grandma lowered her shotgun. “Well. About time you showed up.”

“You called four minutes ago, Rose.” He turned to me. “Are you hurt?”

I opened my mouth to answer.

Then the wind shifted, and I caught his scent.

Cedar. Rain. Something warm underneath, like a fire you could come home to.

My wolf, the wolf I’d met only two hours ago, went completely still inside me.

Then she whispered one word.

Mine.

No. Absolutely not. I had just ripped one bond out of my chest. I was bleeding. I was pregnant. I was not

doing this again.

The King’s eyes locked on mine. And I watched something happen in his face. A flicker. Like a door opening that had been locked for a very long time.

“Silver eyes,” he said softly. “Moon-blood. I haven’t seen those in my lifetime.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means your mate had a queen living in his house,” Caspian said, “and he let someone poison her.”

He looked at my stomach. His voice gentled.

“You and your pup are under the protection of the Lycan crown. Nobody touches you again.”

Then he turned and walked back into the trees.

Over the next two weeks, Kane tried everything.

Different warriors. Different threats. A pack lawyer who claimed the rejection was invalid. Grandma’s

attorney tore him apart in twenty minutes.

Then came the gifts.

A diamond necklace. A white fur coat. A Luna crown made of real silver, which was either the dumbest or

the cruelest thing he could have sent a wolf.

And a check for one million dollars with a note in his handwriting

“Come home. Name your price.”

Grandma donated the necklace to a women’s shelter. She mailed back the coat. And she framed the

check and hung it over the diner register with a little card underneath:

The price of one Alpha’s ego.

It became the most photographed thing in Silverpine.

But the worst part wasn’t Kane.

It was the texts from his pack. From women I’d thought were my friends.

“Ivy, please come home. He’s not sleeping.”

“Whatever happened, it was a misunderstanding.”

“He sent Lydia back to Redmoon. Doesn’t that prove he loves you?”

He sent her away after I left.

Not before. Not when it could have mattered.

I deleted every message.

Meanwhile my body was changing fast. The poison was gone, and my wolf was hungry and restless and awake. The morning sickness hit like a storm. Some days I couldn’t lift my head off the pillow.

Grandma held my hair and made ginger tea without being asked. Real tea this time.

“Your mother was the same with you,” she said softly. “Sick as a dog for three months.”

On the fifteenth morning, a small wooden box appeared on the diner step.

Inside was a bundle of prenatal herbs, a bottle of vitamins, and a note in sharp, elegant handwriting.

“For you and the pup. -C.”

I held that note for a long time.

That evening, Grandma came upstairs with a strange look on her face.

“Ivy. Blackridge’s Beta just called the diner.”

My stomach dropped.

“Kane’s coming himself.”