After My Alpha Killed Our Baby, I Chose a Dying Man

The anniversary of Hadassah’s death always tasted like ashes in my mouth. It was a day of mourning for the Silver Pack, a day of silence in our penthouse, and a day where I ceased to be Talia Young, the wife, and became simply the reliquary for a dead saint.

I stood in the kitchen of our Manhattan penthouse, my hands trembling as I arranged white lilies—Hadassah’s favorite—into a crystal vase. The silence of the apartment was heavy, suffocating. Jaxon was in his study, the room I was forbidden to enter unless summoned. It was his shrine to her. But tonight, I needed a specific vase, the tall blue one he kept on the mantel. I thought maybe, just maybe, if I made everything perfect, he might look at me. really look at me, not just through me to the ghost he loved.

I walked down the hallway, the plush carpet swallowing the sound of my footsteps. The door to the study was ajar. I raised my hand to knock, but the sound of his voice froze me.

“She’s weak, Jaxon. It’s been three years. The pack needs a strong Luna, not a mouse who jumps at her own shadow.” It was Elena, his mother. Her voice dripped with the same disdain she had shown me since I was a child.

My heart hammered against my ribs—Hadassah’s heart. It skipped a beat, a traitor in my own chest.

“I don’t care about her strength, Mother,” Jaxon’s voice was low, vibrating with that Alpha tone that usually made my knees weak. But tonight, it made my blood run cold. “I don’t keep her here for her personality. I don’t keep her here because she’s a good Luna.”

“Then why?” Elena pressed. “Why refuse the Council’s suggestion to reject her and take a chosen mate? You have needs. The pack has needs.”

There was a pause, a silence so loud it rang in my ears. Then, Jaxon spoke, his voice void of any warmth, any affection. It was clinical. Detached.

“Because Hadassah’s heart beats inside her chest. As long as Talia breathes, a part of Hadassah is still alive. I will not let that heart stop. I will not let it go. She is just the vessel, Mother. You don’t throw away the box that holds the diamond.”

The vase slipped from my fingers.

It hit the floor with a shattering crash that echoed like a gunshot. Shards of crystal exploded across the hardwood.

Jaxon was at the door in a second. He loomed over me, his eyes flashing gold, his wolf rising to the surface. He didn’t look concerned. He looked annoyed. He looked at the broken glass, then at me, with the same cold indifference one might show a clumsy servant.

“Clean it up, Talia,” he commanded, the Alpha power in his voice forcing my head down in submission. “Stop being so dramatic. It’s just glass.”

He turned his back on me and slammed the door.

I fell to my knees, not to clean, but because my legs could no longer hold me. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through my abdomen. It wasn’t just the heartbreak. It was physical. A cramping, twisting agony that doubled me over. I gasped, clutching my stomach, the room spinning.

*The vessel.* That’s all I was.

I don’t remember calling the car. I don’t remember the ride to the pack hospital. I only remember the sterile smell of antiseptic and the white lights burning my eyes as I lay on the gurney, curling into a ball to protect a stomach that felt like it was on fire.

Dr. Evans, the pack healer, came in with a grim expression. He held a clipboard, refusing to meet my eyes.

“Talia,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. You’re miscarrying.”

The world stopped. Miscarrying? I didn’t even know I was pregnant. A baby. Jaxon’s baby. A little life that was mine, truly mine. And now it was gone, swept away in a tide of stress and rejection.

“There’s… something else,” Dr. Evans continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. He looked around to ensure the door was closed. “We ran a toxicology screen. Your hormone levels are chaotic. We found high concentrations of Wolfsbane root and mild suppressants in your system.”

I stared at him, numb. “I don’t understand. I don’t take anything.”

“It’s a contraceptive mixture, Talia. Ancient, but effective. And dangerous for an Omega’s constitution.” He hesitated. “The Alpha… Jaxon insisted on your dietary supplements. He told me he couldn’t risk the strain of a pregnancy on your heart. On Hadassah’s heart.”

The cruelty of it stole the air from my lungs. He hadn’t just seen me as a vessel; he had actively poisoned me to keep his shrine pristine. He killed our child before I even knew it existed, all to protect the organ of a dead woman.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table. The screen lit up with a news alert, a bright, cheerful ding in the silent room of my tragedy.

*SPOTTED: Alpha Jaxon Morgan and Assistant Capri Arnold entering the St. Regis Hotel. Is there a new Luna rising?*

The photo was grainy, but clear enough. Jaxon, his hand possessively on the small of Capri’s back, leaning in to whisper something in her ear. He wasn’t grieving tonight. He wasn’t mourning Hadassah.

He was with her.

I lay back against the pillows, the tears finally coming, hot and fast. I was empty. My womb was empty. My marriage was a lie. And the heart beating in my chest, the one he loved so much, felt like it was breaking all over again.