He Killed Our Pup: The Alpha's Ultimate Regret

My husband locked me in a glass cage in the center of the ballroom, announcing to the elite of the pack that my father was dead.

While his assistant, Debra, draped herself over him, Austen turned the thermostat down until industrial coolant pumped into my prison.

I was eight months pregnant with his heir, begging for mercy, but he only raised a champagne glass to his new "Nolan Pack."

To prove my submission, he ordered warriors to douse me in ice water laced with silver and wolfsbane.

The chemicals burned my skin, but the cold killed my unborn son.