Alpha's Regret: Chasing His Luna After the Loss
The night before our wedding, my Alpha, Charlie, was attacked by a rogue wolf pack while on his way to pick up my wedding dress.
When the Ironclaw Pack's patrol found him, his body was battered and covered in scars. He survived, but he lost all memory of me. Worse still, any mention of the word "wedding" was enough to make him faint on the spot.
The wolf doctor called his survival a miracle but diagnosed him with severe post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).
Around the same time, I discovered I was pregnant. The doctor said, "Perhaps the child's arrival might awaken the part of him that deeply loves you."
Clutching the ultrasound report with trembling hands, I went to find Charlie, hope blooming in my chest. When I approached him at the pack training ground, my heart stopped at the sound of his voice carrying over the chatter of his brothers.
"Charlie, you're a genius!" one of them laughed. "Faking PTSD to dodge the wedding? Next, you should pretend to be in a coma for a few months."
"Shut up!" Charlie snapped, but there was an edge of smugness in his tone. "I love Eve. I'm only lying to her this once. Let me have my fun at The Velvet Bite a little longer, and then I'll marry her."
"The Velvet Bite? That brothel? Even ten of you wouldn't be enough to get through all the women there. Every single one with their own tricks—aren't you tempted to test your limits?" another jeered. "Why not stretch it out for a year or two? Eve isn't going to marry anyone else."
"Enough of this nonsense," Charlie retorted coldly. "I can't bear to see her upset for too long. Now hurry up and get me more wild ones—three a day, no less than that. And don't let it interfere with the wedding."
My hands trembled as I ripped the ultrasound report into pieces. Without a word, I turned and walked away.
At the pack hospital, I made an appointment for an abortion.
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