He Chose His Secret Son Over Our Unborn Pup

I thought my five-year marriage to tech CEO Emilio was perfect. I was the architect of our beautiful life, putting my own prestigious career on hold to support his rise to the top.

That illusion shattered when an email flashed on his screen: an invitation to the christening of his son. A son I never knew existed, with a social media influencer as the mother.

The affair became public at a gala thrown in my honor. The little boy ran to Emilio, calling him "Daddy" and accusing me of trying to steal him away. To protect his son, Emilio shoved me. I fell, hit my head, and woke up in a hospital bed to the news that I had miscarried the baby I had just discovered I was carrying.

He never came. He left me bleeding on the floor to comfort his son and mistress, abandoning me, our marriage, and the child we lost without a second glance.

Days later, his mistress sent men to finish the job. They pushed me from a cliff into the churning water below. But I survived. I let the world believe I was dead as I accepted a prestigious architectural fellowship in Zurich. It was time for Elana Thomas to die, so I could finally live.

Chapter 1

Selene POV:

The morning sun sliced through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Damien's penthouse, painting stripes of gold across the Italian marble floor. I watched the coffee maker drip, the rich, dark aroma of the beans a familiar comfort in the five years I had called this place home.

Five years of being the fated mate to Alpha Damien Blackwood, leader of the Black Moon Pack and a ruthless billionaire in the human world. Five years of what I thought was a perfect life.

I carried the steaming mug to his home office, my movements silent and practiced. He was already at his desk, his broad shoulders tense as he stared at a tablet. The scent of him-like cedar after a blizzard, mixed with a hint of wild berries-filled the room, a scent that once made my inner wolf purr with contentment. Now, it just made my stomach clench.

"Damien?" I said softly, placing the coffee beside his hand.

He didn't look up, just grunted a thank you. I was about to turn away when a notification popped up on his screen. It was an email, and the preview was just large enough for me to read.

From: Cassandra Vance, Silver Creek Pack

Subject: Invitation: Rory Blackwood's First Shift Blessing Ceremony

The name hit me like a physical blow. Rory Blackwood. The same last name as my mate. Before I could process it, the notification vanished, retracted as quickly as it had appeared. But it was too late. The name was burned into my mind.

A toxic seed of doubt began to sprout in the pit of my stomach.

I walked back to the kitchen on unsteady legs. Who was Rory Blackwood? Who was Cassandra Vance?

My wolf paced restlessly inside me. *Something is wrong. Find him.*

I closed my eyes and reached out through the Mind-Link, the invisible telepathic connection that bound all members of our pack. It was a sacred bond, especially between an Alpha and his future Luna. It was meant for communication, for sharing feelings, for emergencies. I had never used it to spy on him.

Until now.

I focused on his mental signature, a powerful, crackling energy that always felt like home. I pushed past the surface thoughts of business mergers and pack patrols, searching for his location.

He wasn't in the city. He was on pack territory. At the old Moon Goddess temple.

My heart hammered against my ribs. He had told me he had meetings in the city all day.

Without a second thought, I grabbed my keys and left.

The drive to the temple was a blur. When I arrived, I parked my car behind a thicket of ancient oaks and approached on foot, my senses on high alert. I heard the gurgle of a happy child before I saw them.

There, in the dappled sunlight filtering through the temple's crumbling arches, stood Damien. He was holding a small boy, no older than two, with Damien's own jet-black hair and piercing grey eyes. The look on my mate's face was one I had never seen before-a raw, unguarded pride and overwhelming love.

Then, a woman stepped out from behind a pillar. Cassandra Vance. She was beautiful, with silver-blonde hair and a predatory grace. She leaned against Damien, her hand possessively on his arm.

"Daddy," the little boy, Rory, chirped, his voice a sweet, high-pitched sound that shattered my world into a million pieces.

The three of them looked like a perfect family. A real family.

The memory of a conversation from two weeks ago flooded my mind. I had brought up the idea of us having a pup, my voice full of hope. Damien had shut me down gently, saying the pack was too unstable, that his duties were too demanding. "Not now, my love," he had said.

The irony was a bitter poison on my tongue.

I remembered the day we met, a junior architect from a small pack descended from an ancient, forgotten line. My grandmother used to tell me stories of our ancestors, of their special bond with the moon, but I'd always dismissed them as fairy tales. The moment Damien walked into the room, though, something primal had awakened in me. The world had tilted on its axis. His scent had hit me first, that intoxicating blizzard-cedar-and-berry mix that made my blood sing. My heart had begun to pound a frantic rhythm, and a strange sense of peace settled over me, as if a part of my soul I never knew was missing had finally clicked into place. And then my inner wolf had screamed, a single, possessive word that echoed in my skull.

*Mine!*

He had felt it too. He had crossed the room, his eyes locked on mine, and taken my hand. The moment his skin touched mine, a jolt of pure electricity had shot up my arm. He had sworn to me that day that I was his one and only, a gift from the Moon Goddess herself.

A lie. It was all a lie.

Just then, his voice echoed in my head, a violation through our Mind-Link.

*Selene, my love? Is everything alright?*

I stayed hidden in the shadows, my hand clamped over my mouth to stifle a sob.

*I'm fine,* I sent back, my mental voice trembling. *Just thinking of you.*

*I'm stuck in a meeting with the Elders,* he lied. *It's going to run late.*

But in the background of his mental transmission, I could hear it. The faint sound of a child crying. Then Cassandra's voice, soothing the boy.

And then, clear as day, Rory wailed, "Daddy!"

Damien's mental presence flared with panic. *That's just Beta Marcus's pup,* he rushed to say. *You know how he brings him everywhere. I have to go. I love you.*

He severed the link.

I watched as he turned his full attention back to the boy, murmuring soft words, his expression the picture of a devoted father.

My heart didn't just break; it turned to dust.

I pulled out my phone, my fingers moving with a clarity born of pure agony. I found the email I had saved for months. An offer from the Alpine Crest Pack, a neutral, prestigious pack of master craftsmen and architects in the Alps. A six-month master-class program. I had turned it down for Damien. For us.

I typed out my reply.

"I accept."

Selene POV:

The acceptance confirmation from the Alpine Crest Pack arrived within the hour. The program started in two weeks. The location was a secluded, high-altitude territory in the Swiss Alps, a world away from the lies suffocating me here. It was perfect.

I drove back to the penthouse, the place I once called our home. Now, every object seemed to mock me. The photo on the mantelpiece of us smiling on a beach, his arm wrapped tightly around me. The delicate moonstone necklace he'd given me on our first anniversary, a stone meant to symbolize the Moon Goddess's blessing on our union.

A wave of physical revulsion washed over me.

I found a box of large, black trash bags under the sink. With a fury I didn't know I possessed, I began to purge. The photos went first, the sound of shattering glass a grim satisfaction. The moonstone necklace followed, its silver chain clinking against the glass shards. Every gift, every souvenir, every single thing that tied me to him and to the five years of lies went into the bags.

When I was done, the apartment felt stark and empty, stripped of all warmth. I started packing my own things-my clothes, my architecture books, my drafting tools. My life.

Damien didn't come home that night.

He finally appeared the following evening, walking in as if nothing was wrong. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, burying his face in my neck.

"I missed you," he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

But all I could smell was her. Cassandra's cloying perfume, a scent like nightshade and deceit, clung to his skin. And underneath it, the faint, milky scent of a pup.

I stiffened and pulled away.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowed with fake concern.

I decided to test him one last time. "I was thinking," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Maybe you were right to wait, but... I really want a pup, Damien. To solidify our bond. To make us a real family."

His expression tightened. "Selene, we've been over this. The pack needs my full attention. There are rogue threats on the border. And tensions with the Silver Creek Pack are... delicate. It's not the right time."

Another lie. The right time just wasn't with me.

As if on cue, his private communicator buzzed on the counter. He glanced at the screen and quickly flipped it over.

"It's my Beta," he said, his tone clipped. "An emergency report. I have to go."

He kissed my forehead, a gesture that felt cold and meaningless, and hurried out the door.

I waited until I heard the elevator doors close before I walked to the counter. He had been in such a rush, he'd left his backup communicator behind. My hands trembled as I picked it up.

The screen lit up with a new message. It was from Cassandra.

"Rory has a fever. His wolf is restless. He keeps asking for his Alpha father."

A sharp, cramping pain seized my abdomen. I doubled over, gasping. The lies, the stress, the heartbreak-it was all a physical weight pressing down on me. I stumbled to the bathroom and threw up, my body convulsing with the force of my grief.

The next day, I didn't go to my studio. I went to the pack's Healer, alone.

She was a kind, elderly woman who had known me since I first joined the pack. After a few tests, she came back into the examination room, her face beaming.

"Congratulations, my dear," she said, her voice warm. "You're carrying a strong, healthy pup."

She patted my hand.

"Six weeks along. The Alpha will be thrilled. An heir is on the way."

Selene POV:

Pregnant. The Healer's words echoed in my head, a cruel symphony of joy and despair. This pup was a part of me, a product of my bond with my fated mate. But it was conceived in a web of deceit. It deserved better than a father who was a liar and a mother who was a fool.

My mind was a chaotic storm as I walked down the medical center's quiet corridor. I had to leave. Now, more than ever, I had to protect this child from the poison of Damien's double life.

As I rounded a corner, I froze. There, not twenty feet away, was Damien. He was holding Cassandra, who was sobbing dramatically into his chest. He was stroking her hair, murmuring to her in the same gentle, reassuring tone he always used with me.

"It's alright," he was saying. "Don't worry."

I quickly ducked behind a large stone pillar, my heart pounding a sick, heavy rhythm.

"But what if she finds out?" Cassandra wailed, her voice carrying clearly in the empty hall. "What if I ruin your position as Alpha?"

Damien let out a low, dismissive chuckle. "She trusts me completely. Selene is a brilliant architect, but she doesn't understand the complexities of pack politics. She'll never know."

My blood ran cold. He thought I was simple. Naive.

"When will you make me your Luna?" Cassandra pressed, her voice turning sharp. "When will you get rid of her?"

"I can't reject her," Damien said, his tone firm. "She is the Moon Goddess's will. Rejecting a fated mate, especially one so... pure... would be seen as a weakness by the other Alphas. It could shatter my authority. I have a responsibility to her."

A responsibility. Not love. Not devotion. A celestial chore.

"But I will always take care of you and Rory," he promised, his voice softening again. "You gave me a strong heir, Cassandra. That is something I will never forget."

He kissed her forehead and then walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hall.

Cassandra stayed for a moment, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across her face. Then, her eyes flicked directly to the pillar I was hiding behind. She knew I was there. She had known the whole time. She held my gaze for a beat, her expression a mixture of victory and pure malice, before turning and gliding away.

That was it. The last fragile thread of hope I'd been clinging to snapped. In his eyes, I was an obligation. She and her son were his choice.

A cold, hard resolve settled in my soul. I couldn't bring my child into this. I couldn't let my pup be the unwanted second choice, a constant reminder of a broken bond.

I made two calls. The first was to a private clinic in the human world, scheduling an appointment I never thought I'd have to make. The second was to my lawyer, instructing her to draft the official mate rejection and bond dissolution papers.

I was sitting in the moon-laurel grove outside the center, trying to breathe, when Damien's voice invaded my mind.

*My love, I just heard the news! The new west wing you designed for the pack house is officially complete. It's magnificent. You are a genius.*

I didn't respond.

*I'm sorry I was so busy last night,* he continued, his mental voice oozing charm. *We had a serious rogue problem on the northern border. It's all handled now.*

Lies. All of it.

*To make up for my absence, I'm throwing a grand gala in your honor at the new wing tonight. A celebration of my brilliant mate. You deserve it.*

My insides felt like they were carved from ice. I was numb.

*That sounds wonderful,* I sent back, my voice a hollow echo of its former self.