He was drunk—completely wrecked, his wolf barely leashed beneath his skin. The moment he walked through the door, his mouth crashed into mine.
I kicked. I clawed. I fought. But he was an Alpha unhinged, deaf to everything, his instincts drowning out reason, and he took what he wanted.
The next morning, I woke to a bucket of ice water.
Alaric stood at the bedside, revulsion pouring off him in waves that made my omega instincts cower.
"You're disgusting."
"Crawling into my bed while I was drunk—is that how you used to seduce males?"
He called in a cleansing team to purify the entire master den of my scent. Halfway through, he decided it wasn't enough and had the whole chamber gutted and rebuilt.
I watched in silence. I didn't bother explaining anymore.
Alaric would never believe me anyway.
It wasn't until my follow-up visit to the healer's den that I discovered, completely by accident, that I was carrying a pup.
When the faint, steady flutter of my pup's heartbeat filled the examination chamber, tears I thought had long since dried up spilled down my cheeks again, beyond my control.
I had no one left in this world. Not a single pack member. Not a single soul who loved me.