The Lycan's Seductress: His Pup is Mine

ZETIAN'S POV

Everyone looked at me like I was some kind of monster-like something that should have never existed. Eyes followed me wherever I went. Some tried to hide their reactions, but most didn't even bother. Sharp whispers cutting through the air like poisoned arrows.

"Have you seen her face? Goddess, what a horror."

"Looks like melted wax... poor thing."

"She must've done something unforgivable to deserve that."

Cruel, thoughtless words. But I heard them. Every. Single. Time.

And maybe, just maybe, they were right about one thing-something did happen to me. Something I would never forget.

But I wasn't always this way. I wasn't born a monster. I was born Zetian Anderson-once the most envied she-wolf in the Silver Moon Pack, and once... the most beautiful. The kind of beauty that made people stare when I walked into a room.

My scars didn't come from a rogue fight, or a pack war. They came from jealousy-burned into my skin by rage, lies, and acid.

I remember the night my whole life changed. The same night I discovered he was my mate. The same night I shifted for the first time before the entire pack.

The moon was full-massive and silver, glowing against the trees like a divine eye watching me. My heart hammered in my chest as I stood in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by pack members. I could feel their energy, their expectations pressing against my skin.

Alpha Nathan my father nodded at me, his voice deep and commanding.

"Go on, Zetian. Let your wolf out. Don't fight her."

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, the pull of the moon flooding my veins. Then it happened-bones cracked, muscles twisted, and heat surged through every nerve. I screamed, half in pain, half in awe, as my first shift took form.

The gasps came before I even realized what had happened.

And then... him.

Frank Radford-My childhood crush. Son of the Alpha to the Crescent pack.

He stood at the edge of the crowd, tall, broad-shouldered, his black hair catching the moonlight, eyes locked on me with something that made my breath hitch. He stepped forward slowly, his scent hitting me like lightning-cedarwood, rain, and something else... familiar. My wolf, Gemini howled inside me.

MATE.

Our eyes met, and time froze. Every voice around us faded. He walked toward me, heart pounding, his expression unreadable-half shock, half hunger.

He knelt before my wolf and whispered,

"Mine."

That one word-so simple, yet so dangerous-sealed my fate.

For a while, life was beautiful.

Frank treated me like I was his whole world. The perfect mate. The kind that every she-wolf dreamed of finding. He was charming, confident, strong. His touch made me feel seen-made me forget the emptiness I'd grown up with.

Because truth is, I hadn't always belonged here.

I had been swapped at birth-stolen from my family when I was born. My parents had no idea of all this, so they went home with an entirely different daughter–Cindy.

Years later, they found me-tattered, afraid, and half-wild, hiding among villagers who had taken me in. The reunion was... emotional. My mother wept for days. My father hugged me until I could barely breathe. For the first time, I thought I'd found my way home again.

At first, they treated me well. Not perfectly-Cindy still got more love, more praise-but I didn't care. I was just happy to belong somewhere. I accepted every scrap of affection they gave me. Even when they compared me to Cindy, I smiled. I told myself it was enough.

Until the acid.

Until the night everything burned.

It was raining that day. I had just come back from the pack market when it happened. A figure in black approached me near my car-no scent, no warning.

Then fire.

Agonizing, blistering fire. My skin melted; my screams tore through the rain. I remember falling to the ground, clawing at my face, my body, as the world went dark.

When I woke up in the infirmary, the smell of disinfectant filled the air. My mother was standing in the corner, weeping silently. My father's face was blank-like he was looking at a stranger.

And Frank ... my mate... held my hand. Tears streaked his cheeks.

He whispered.

"I'm so sorry, Zetian. I didn't know she'd do this."

She?

He told me she was his ex. That she couldn't accept our bond. That she was unstable, dangerous. He swore he had nothing to do with it.

I should have walked away. But I stayed. Because he held my hand in the hospital. Because I needed to believe someone could still love me. Because he whispered.

"I don't care how you look. I love the woman you are."

Lies!!!. Mountain of lies!!!.

Everything changed.

I had always wondered how he was going to put up with the world with an ugly ass bitch like me as his life partner. But his assurance kept giving me foolish hopes.

He suddenly stopped taking me out. Stopped looking me in the eyes. The man who once kissed every scar now flinched at my touch.

"Let's just stay in tonight," he'd say whenever I suggested dinner outside.

I told myself he was tired. I told myself he was protecting me from the stares. I told myself a thousand lies to cover his. Even when he stopped introducing me to his friends or holding my hand in public, I told myself he was just being private.

To the Anderson's, Cindy became their light, their pride, their perfect daughter. I became their shadow-hidden behind closed doors, whispered about, pitied in silence.

They said no one could know they had found me. That it was better that way. That the world didn't need to see "the scarred daughter of the Andersons."

I became their secret. Their shame.

And Cindy? She became their trophy.

After everything I had lost, Frank was the one thing I believed I had left.

Then he proposed.

A simple proposal-no crowd, no cameras. Just us.

He knelt beside me in my living room, ring in hand.

"Let's make this forever," he said, and for a moment, I forgot the world and all its cruelty.

I said yes.

The wedding preparations began. People whispered, speculated.

"She must've paid him."

"No man in his right mind would marry her willingly."

"Maybe it's pity. Poor girl."

I tried not to listen. I tried to focus on the dress fittings, the flowers, the invites. I told myself this was my fairytale ending.

But the signs were always there. And I-Zetian Anderson chose to ignore them all for love.

I didn't know then that as I watched the sunset a day before my wedding, that my dream was standing on shaky ground. That everything I believed about Frank , about love, about loyalty-was about to shatter.

I should have listened. To the whispers. To the doubts. To my guts.

But I didn't.

ZETIAN'S POV

I never truly understood the taste of betrayal - the way it burns in your throat, the way it poisons your veins - until the morning of my wedding.

At exactly 5:55 a.m., I died.

Not just in the poetic sense. Not figuratively. I died in the most literal, cruel way possible - murdered out of jealousy by my Adopted sister.

Cindy.

Looking back now, the signs were always there. I just refused to see them.

Frank - or Bunny, as I fondly called him - had grown distant in the weeks before our wedding. His smile no longer reached his eyes. His hugs lingered just a little too long before letting go, as if guilt whispered between our bodies.

Cindy's envy had always been quiet, simmering beneath the surface. It began when I was found - the lost Andersons daughter returned after years of being swapped. Cindy had been their light, their pride, the adopted replacement for the child they'd lost. And when I returned, I became the shadow that dimmed her glow.

Then Frank came into the picture - my mate. My destiny.

The moment that bond snapped into place, Cindy's jealousy turned venomous. The little digs, the forced smiles, the glances that lingered a second too long on Frank - I noticed them all. I just chose love over logic.

Stupid.

Naïve.

Me.

By sunrise, the mansion was alive with excitement. Decorators bustled around with flowers and drapes. The scent of fresh lilies filled the hallways. My designer gown was laid out carefully on the bed, shimmering beneath the morning light. Everything was perfect– Every detail, every flower, every smile.

Until it wasn't.

The first scream tore through the mansion like a blade.

"Zetian! My baby! Wake up! Please-Mother is here!" Mother screamed.

Her voice cracked, raw, breaking the air with anguish. She was on the floor beside me, shaking my lifeless body, her trembling hands smudged with the blood that pooled beneath my head. Her tears fell freely, soaking through the satin of her robe.

But I couldn't move.

Couldn't speak.

Couldn't tell her I was gone.

The room filled quickly - pack members, relatives, wedding planners - their gasps and whispers blending into chaos.

"Is she-?"

"No... Goddess, no."

"Call the doctor! Hurry!"

But it was too late.

Someone fainted. Another vomited into the hallway.

And then came the clicks - the flash of cameras.

Within an hour, every news outlet had the story.

"Breaking News: The woman the Andersons sheltered out of pity found dead on her wedding day."

Not Zetian Anderson.

Not the Alpha's lost daughter.

Just "a woman."

I shouldn't have been surprised. My father had always been careful about appearances - always in control of what the world saw. Of course, he'd feed the paparazzi with these lies. The truth was far too inconvenient.

When Frank arrived, he was still in his pajamas, hair tousled, face pale. He pushed through the crowd, calling my name like a man possessed.

"Zetian ! No, no, please-wake up! Don't do this to me! It's our wedding day, remember? Our baby, Zetian! You can't leave us now!" Frank cried.

His knees hit the floor beside me, his hands clutching mine - the same hands that once held me through sleepless nights, now gripping cold flesh. Tears streaked his face, but his eyes were dry.

Cindy was behind him, trembling with a performance worthy of applause. Her sobs were soft but deliberate, the perfect blend of heartbreak and innocence. She pressed a handkerchief to her lips and whispered,

"She was my sister... she didn't deserve this."

Lies. All of it.

They had been lovers long before I came into the picture as his mate. I'd always wondered why Cindy never introduced me to the man she claimed to love. Now I knew why–Frank was her lover.

I was just an obstacle to her being the Anderson's heiress. And to think that she had confessed to be the one behind the acid damage on my face, before she murdered me.

The worst of it all was that I had a child growing inside me. A life snuffed out with mine.

Frank could have just rejected me as his mate. But no, he didn't want to be seen as a bad fellow in the eyes of people.

"Ohh he finally left her because she's now ugly, huh."

He wanted to keep his good name intact, so he made it seem like he loved me till death. And yes, his family was against rejecting of mates.

By the time the officers arrived, mother had fainted and been carried out.

On seeing them, Cindy threw herself at them, sobbing, shaking, dramatically pleading like a grieving friend seeking justice.

"Please! Please find whoever did this! She was murdered! My sister was killed in cold blood! You have to help her!"

Frank sat motionless beside me, lips quivering, eyes wide in supposed shock.

The officers scanned the room, taking notes.

"No forced entry. No struggle. Everything looks... deliberate," one murmured.

Frank seized the moment. He slammed his fist into the wall.

"Then your effort is not enough!!!. Do something! She was murdered! In her own room! Find the monster who did this!"

The lead officer frowned sympathetically but Maintained his composure.

"We'll start questioning everyone. No one leaves until we find answers."

Frank nodded, voice low and broken.

"Please... find whoever did this. She deserves justice."

He even managed a tear. Almost convincing.

When the room cleared, Cindy stood over my body, silent. Then, like a witch stepping out of costume, she exhaled, rolled her shoulders, and smirked.

"Zetian , my darling," she murmured, brushing my hair back. "What a shame it had to end this way. But really... you were never meant to be here. Frank only accepted you because you were his mate -the heiress, the name, the power. But look at you now."

She stood, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeves as her gaze lingered on my scars.

"Even in death, you're hideous."

She sighed adjusting her hair.

"I'll make sure your burial is... grand. A spectacle. The world will mourn the poor, pitiful girl who died too soon. And me? I'll move on with Frank, as everyone expects. Goodbye, sis."

She kissed my hand - a mockery of affection - and walked out, leaving behind nothing but silence and the faint scent of her cologne.

My burial came quickly - too quickly.

Within twenty-four hours, I was gone. No autopsy. No investigation. No justice.

The Andersons had found out that the woman they paraded as their perfect child had a hand in my murder, but in other to protect their precious daughter and image, they announced my death as "a tragic suicide" and moved heaven and earth to keep it that way.

Even Frank helped hide her scandal.

Hence, they buried me quietly.

No public announcement.

No acknowledgment that I had ever been one of them.

Just a sealed coffin, a whisper of scandal, and silence.

To the world, Zetian Anderson never existed.

-----------------

Days later, Frank appeared before the pack's elders, dressed in black, grief painted on his face. His voice trembled as he addressed them, every word rehearsed.

"Zetian's death has left a void in my heart," he said, lowering his head. "But life must go on. I can't be commemorated as an Alpha without my Luna, and my pack is on the verge of destruction. So in honour of Zetian's memory, I choose to continue with someone who stood by me through it all, someone she would have wanted me to carry on with... Cindy Anderson- my chosen mate."

ZETIAN'S POV

The first thing I saw was the mirror.

And the girl staring back at me... was me - but not the me I remembered.

Her skin was flawless. Her eyes bright, unscarred by betrayal. Her hair still held that youthful shimmer I hadn't seen in years. There were no burns, no scars, no ghosts in her gaze. Just innocence - pure, untouched, alive.

I was in my younger version, when I was to turn 19.

My fingers trembled as I touched my face. My reflection did the same.

"I... came back to life?" I whispered, voice shaky, foreign.

The phone beside the mirror blinked with a notification.

Tuesday, July 7, 2020.

Cindy's birthday.

My heart stopped.

I was back in time.

Back before the acid.

Before the betrayal.

Before the wedding.

For a moment, I just stood there - still, numb - as the realization sank in. Then, slowly, a bitter laugh slipped through my lips.

"So this is the Moon Goddess' sense of humor," I muttered, half-laughing, half-crying. "She sends me back... to the very beginning to ridicule me of how stupid I had been."

But if this was truly a second chance, I wasn't going to waste it.

Not for the Andersons.

Not for Cindy.

Not for Frank .

This time, I would live for me.

And just when I thought I could adapt-start fresh, rebuild something real-I made the worst mistake of my second chance of life.

All it took was one night. One drink. One party. One blurred line.

And now I was carrying a child whose father I couldn't even remember clearly.

The night it all happened was the same night of Cindy's 19th birthday party-a grand celebration planned to perfection, hosted in an elite rooftop lounge that overlooked the city skyline.

I didn't want to go. Goddess knows I didn't.

"I have a migraine," I told Cindy, clutching my temples.

She rolled her eyes. "You always have a migraine when it's not about you."

"I've got work tomorrow."

She laughed. "Work? You mean those charity meetings? Oh please, Zetian, live a little."

When that didn't work, I tried honesty. "I just don't fit in with your crowd."

But Cindy wouldn't take no for an answer. She twirled around in her silver gown, hair cascading like a goddess in moonlight.

"Come on, sis," she sang. "You're part of the family now. Stop hiding in the shadows."

And then Frank appeared. Dressed sharply in black, smelling of cedar and arrogance. His eyes flicked over me with that familiar blend of disdain and pity.

"Don't make this difficult, Zetian," he said under his breath. "It's just one night."

Just one night.

I wish I had listened to my instincts.

I wish I'd never stepped into that limousine.

But then, I thought it was all going to happen the way it had happened in my previous life, but no it took an entirely different turn on me. Even when I thought I would be conscious of their attack, I still fell a victim.

**************

The party was everything I hated. Loud music. Flashing lights. The smell of expensive liquor mixed with perfume that clung to your throat. Everyone looked polished, plastic, perfect. Laughter echoed like knives in crystal halls.

I stayed in a corner, clutching a glass of sparkling wine I had no intention of finishing. Cindy was in her element - her laughter slicing through the crowd as she danced and twirled under a chandelier that sparkled like diamonds.

Frank was nowhere in sight. Not that I wanted him near me.

I was already counting down the minutes until I could leave when a waiter appeared with a tray of drinks. The glasses glowed faintly blue beneath the lights.

"Special mix for the Anderson sisters," he said, winking.

I frowned. "Anderson sisters?"

Before I could question him further, Cindy was suddenly beside me, all glitter and fake warmth.

"Don't be boring, Eve," she cooed, handing me a glass. "Just one sip. You're ruining the vibe."

"I really shouldn't-"

"Oh, come on! It's my birthday. Don't make me beg."

Her tone was playful, but her eyes - sharp, unyielding. I didn't want to cause a scene as all eyes shifted to me, so I gave in.

One sip.

Then another.

And another.

The taste was sweet at first - fruity, pleasant - but then the room started to spin. The lights blurred, voices warped, laughter stretched into strange echoes. My vision swayed as I tried to steady myself against a wall.

"Cindy... what was in that drink?" I slurred.

She smiled. Too calmly.

"Relax, sis. It's just a little something to help you loosen up."

The floor tilted beneath me. My legs went numb. The music grew distant.

The next thing I remembered clearly was stumbling through a hotel corridor.. Barefoot. My clutch gone. My head pounding like a drum.

The air smelled of cologne and hotel polish. I didn't know how I got there. My vision was foggy, my mind scattered.

Then - a door opened.

A shadow stepped out. Tall. Broad shoulders. The faint glint of beautiful pair of eyes.

Strong hands caught me as I stumbled. My heart jumped.

"Mate!"

Gemini - my wolf - roared inside me.

But my head was spinning too much to understand anything.

I wanted to speak. To ask who he was. But the words tangled in my throat.

He led me inside. My surroundings blurred into darkness.

And then - nothing.

************

When I woke the next morning, sunlight streamed through the blinds, slicing across a room I didn't recognize. My head throbbed. My body ached. My skin felt foreign, touched, claimed.

I looked beside me.

Empty sheets.

No one there.

Just the lingering scent of a man I didn't know - earthy, sharp, intoxicating.

Panic shot through me. I scrambled to gather my clothes, my purse, my phone. My hands were trembling as I stepped out of the hotel room, praying no one would see me.

Back home, I stood under the shower for an hour, scrubbing my skin raw. I told myself it had to be Frank . It had to be him.

Gemini stirred inside me again, voice fierce.

"Mate!"

Yes. It was Frank . Who else could it be? I only had one mate.

He'd seen me at the party. Maybe we slipped away together. Maybe the alcohol had blurred the lines, but he had taken responsibility.

The Moon Goddess didn't make mistakes.

Or so I thought.

*******

Days passed. I avoided Frank . Avoided Cindy. Avoided everyone even mirrors. But something felt different. My body, my mood - off balance.

Then my period never came.

Once.

Twice.

By the third week, I bought a test, praying I was wrong.

The result appeared in seconds.

Positive.

Pregnant.

My knees gave out. The test slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor. I sat there, on the cold marble tiles of the Andersons estate's bathroom, shaking as tears spilled down my cheeks.

"Why?" I whispered to no one. "Why again?"

Pregnant.

Seven weeks.

Due in early spring.

That night, I called Frank .

He picked up on the second ring, his tone clipped, impatient.

"What is it?"

"I need to talk to you," I said, my voice trembling. "It's important."

Silence.

Then I told him.

He didn't say anything for a long time. I thought maybe he'd hung up. And then-

"Are you sure it's mine?" His voice was flat. No excitement. No comfort.

Five words.

Five words that cut deeper than any acid ever could.

I couldn't even breathe.

He didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't offer to come over. All he said was that.

I hung up.

For days, I stayed locked in my room. The curtains drawn. The world shut out. I cried until my throat was raw, until my reflection in the mirror looked hollow again - a ghost in a body that didn't feel like mine.

I had been given a second life.

And somehow, I'd already ruined it.

My family's reaction was predictable. Shock. Disgust. Calculation. The Andersons name could not afford scandal.

"Marriage," Father had said sharply. "Before anyone finds out. Quiet. Quick. Clean."

But Frank never proposed.

He never visited.

Never looked at me again.

He simply nodded when the arrangements were made - as if marrying me was a chore he couldn't avoid.

Though I wanted nothing to do with him in this life, I had no choice.

For the sake of the innocent life growing inside me, I convinced myself I could survive the lie one more time.