My Alpha's Mistress Murdered Our Unborn Twins

I woke to a dull ache in my lower back and the smell of pine through the open window. Eight months pregnant with twins, and my body felt like it belonged to someone else—heavy, swollen, and constantly reminding me that I was carrying two lives that weren't quite ready to arrive yet.

I pushed myself up slowly, one hand braced against the mattress. Elias's side of the bed was already cold. He'd been leaving earlier and earlier lately, slipping out before dawn without a word through our bond. I used to reach for him in those moments, sending warmth and affection through the mate link. Now I just let him go.

The morning routine was familiar: bathroom, then straight to the medicine cabinet for the stabilizing herbs Maren had prescribed three weeks ago. My pregnancy had complications—something about my wolf's energy conflicting with the pups' development. The herbs kept everything balanced. I wasn't supposed to miss a dose.

I opened the cabinet.

Empty.

I blinked. Stared at the bare shelves. My heart kicked once, hard.

The vials should have been there—six of them, amber glass with handwritten labels in Maren's careful script. The dried bundles of moonvetch and silverleaf, wrapped in cloth and tied with twine. All of it, gone.

I checked the drawer beneath the sink. Nothing. I opened the linen closet, the vanity, even the cabinet under the bathroom counter where we kept extra towels. My hands were shaking now, my wolf stirring uneasily inside me.

"Tasha?"

I turned. Blakely stood in the doorway of the bedroom, wearing one of Elias's old training shirts. It hung loose on her frame, the hem brushing her thighs. Her hair was tousled, her expression soft with concern.

"You okay?" she asked, stepping closer. "You look pale."

"My herbs," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "They're gone. All of them."

Blakely tilted her head, her brow furrowing in that way that always made her look so genuinely worried. "Are you sure? Maybe you moved them somewhere and forgot."

"I didn't move them." My wolf growled low in my chest. "They were right here. In the cabinet. I took the last dose yesterday morning."

"Hmm." Blakely glanced around the bathroom, her gaze sweeping over the counters. "Well, I'm sure they'll turn up. You've been so stressed lately, Tasha. Pregnancy brain is real, you know."

I pressed two fingers against my wrist, grounding myself. "Blakely, I need those herbs. Maren said—"

"I know what Maren said." Her tone was still warm, still concerned, but there was something underneath it now—something I couldn't quite name. "But honestly, don't you think you're being a little dramatic? All those potions and tinctures... sometimes I think healers just like to make pregnant she-wolves anxious."

My jaw tightened. "She's the senior healer. She wouldn't prescribe them if I didn't need them."

"Of course, of course." Blakely reached out and touched my arm lightly, her fingers cool against my skin. "I'm not saying she's wrong. I'm just saying... maybe some fresh air would do you more good than worrying about a few missing bottles. You've been cooped up in this room for days."

I pulled my arm back, not harshly, but firmly. "I need to find them."

"Okay." She smiled, that soft, understanding smile that everyone in the pack seemed to love. "Why don't you ask Elias? Maybe he moved them for safekeeping. You know how he is—always trying to take care of things."

I wanted to laugh at that. Elias hadn't asked me how I was feeling in over a week. He barely looked at me during meals. The mate bond that should have been flooding me with his presence felt like a muted hum in the back of my mind, something I had to strain to hear.

"I'll ask him," I said quietly.

Blakely's smile widened. "Good. And in the meantime, why don't you come with us this afternoon? A few of the she-wolves are doing a light training run. Nothing intense—just stretching our legs, getting some sun. It'll be good for you and the pups."

My wolf stilled. A training run. Eight months pregnant. Without my stabilizing herbs.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said.

"It's not a real run, Tasha. Just a walk, basically. We'll keep it slow." She leaned against the doorframe, casual and easy. "You've been so isolated. The pack is starting to worry. They miss their Luna."

That word—Luna—felt hollow in her mouth. I was the Luna in title only. Elias had made that clear in a hundred small ways over the past year. And Blakely... Blakely had been given access to everything. The private quarters. The Alpha's schedule. His attention.

I looked at her standing there in his shirt, and something cold settled in my chest.

"I'll think about it," I said.

She nodded, pushed off the doorframe, and started to leave. Then she paused, glancing back over her shoulder.

"You know," she said softly, "sometimes I think you worry too much. Everything's going to be fine, Tasha. You'll see."

She left.

I stood there in the bathroom, staring at the empty cabinet, my wolf pacing restlessly inside me. My hands moved to my belly, feeling the weight of the twins shifting beneath my palms.

Everything's going to be fine.

I didn't believe her.