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After My Alpha Replaced Me with His Pregnant Mistress Novel Cover

After My Alpha Replaced Me with His Pregnant Mistress

After her Alpha mate chooses his pregnant mistress over their sacred bond, a rejected werewolf must rebuild her life from the ashes of betrayal. Cast aside and replaced, she faces the agony of a broken connection while navigating the dangerous politics of the pack. As she struggles to find her own strength, she discovers that true power comes from within, not from a man who failed her. It is a journey of heartbreak, resilience, and reclaiming destiny.
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Chapter 2

The whisper started low, like the rustle of dry leaves before a storm, until it grew into a roar that deafened me. We were gathered in the pack’s assembly hall, the air thick with the scent of roasted meat and anticipation. Drake stood at the podium, his hand resting possessively on the small of Sabrina’s back. She looked radiant, her red hair catching the light like a halo of fire, but her smile was a blade aimed directly at my heart.

“My pack,” Drake’s voice boomed, rich with pride I hadn’t heard in years. “Tonight, we celebrate the future. Sabrina carries my pup.”

A collective gasp sucked the air from the room. Sabrina produced a glossy black-and-white image, holding it up like a trophy. It was an ultrasound, the graininess undeniable proof to everyone watching. Murmurs erupted instantly, eyes darting between the beaming Omega and me—the barren Luna who had failed her one duty. I sat frozen, my hands clenching the fabric of my dress until my knuckles turned white.

“Finally, a true heir,” an elder muttered loud enough for me to hear. “Perhaps the Moon Goddess has corrected her mistake.”

The shame was a physical weight, pressing down on my chest. I knew Sabrina. I knew the scent of deception that clung to her like cheap perfume, but Drake was blind to it. He looked at her belly with a reverence he used to save for me. I wanted to scream, to tear the lie from her throat, but I had no voice here. Not anymore.

I slipped away before the applause could crush me completely. My destination wasn’t the sanctuary of my room, but the sterile quiet of the pack clinic. Dr. Marcus Reid was waiting for me, his face grim as he ushered me into the examination room. The lights hummed overhead, a stark contrast to the raucous celebration I had left behind.

“Are you sure about the timing, Celine?” Marcus asked softly, adjusting the ultrasound machine.

“Just check, Marcus. Please.” My voice trembled.

The gel was cold against my skin. I held my breath, staring at the monitor, praying to a Goddess I felt had abandoned me. And then, there it was. A tiny, rhythmic flutter. A heartbeat.

Marcus let out a breath he’d been holding. “It worked. The final round of IVF… Celine, you’re pregnant.”

Tears blurred my vision, hot and fast. I wasn’t broken. I wasn’t barren. I carried the true heir of the Black Moon Pack. My hand hovered over my flat stomach, a fierce protectiveness surging through my veins.

“But listen to me,” Marcus said, his tone turning sharp. He gripped my shoulder. “Your levels are erratic. Your body is exhausted from the healing rituals you perform on Drake. If you continue to stress yourself, or if Drake… if he continues to treat you this way, you will lose this pup. You are walking a razor’s edge, Luna.”

“I won’t lose it,” I whispered, wiping my eyes. “I won’t.”

I left the clinic with a secret burning inside me, a tiny spark of hope in the encroaching darkness. I had to tell Drake. Once he knew, once he realized I carried his child, the spell Sabrina had cast over him would surely break. He would protect us. He had to.

But when I returned to the pack house, the atmosphere had shifted from celebration to debauchery. The dining hall was transformed. Drake sat at the head of the table, a throne-like chair that usually accommodated both of us. Now, Sabrina sat on his lap, feeding him grapes as if they were ancient royalty.

I tried to skirt the edge of the room, intending to reach the staircase unnoticed, but Drake’s gaze snapped to me. His eyes were glassy, his pupils dilated—the side effects of the exhilaration he felt, or perhaps something darker.

“Going somewhere, Celine?” His voice cut through the laughter like a whip.

The room went silent.

“I am tired, Drake,” I said, keeping my head high despite the trembling in my legs. “I need rest.”

“Rest?” He laughed, a cruel, sharp sound. “We are celebrating my heir. And you, the Luna who couldn’t provide one, think you can just walk away?”

Sabrina giggled, nuzzling into his neck. “Maybe she’s jealous, Alpha. It must be hard for her, seeing a real woman give you what you need.”

Her words were poison, but Drake drank them down like wine. His expression hardened. The air around him shimmered with the force of his aura.

“Come here,” he commanded.

I didn’t want to move. Every instinct screamed at me to run, to protect the fragile life growing inside me. But the Alpha command slammed into my mind, an irresistible order that bypassed my will. My legs moved on their own, jerky and stiff, dragging me toward the head table.

“Drake, please,” I gasped, fighting the invisible puppet strings. “Don’t do this.”

He ignored my plea. He pointed to the crystal decanter of wine on the table. “Sabrina is thirsty. Since you are no longer useful as a mother, perhaps you can be useful as a servant. Pour her a drink.”

The humiliation was a cold bucket of water. The pack watched—some with pity, most with morbid curiosity. I reached for the heavy crystal decanter, my hands shaking violently. The Alpha tone pressed down on my shoulders, forcing me to bow, forcing me to serve the woman who was destroying my life.

I poured the dark red liquid into Sabrina’s goblet. She didn’t take it immediately. Instead, she looked up at me, her green eyes dancing with malice.

“Careful, Celine,” she purred. “Don’t spill. We wouldn’t want you to ruin the celebration of the future Alpha.”

Drake watched, his face a mask of arrogant satisfaction, completely unaware that the true future Alpha was right there, inches from him, hidden beneath the dress of the woman he was breaking. I set the glass down, the sound echoing in the silence. I had never felt hate before—not truly. But in that moment, as I looked at the man I had saved from death a dozen times, I felt the first cracks in the love that had bound me to him.

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