Chapter 1

When I died, the blood of the fetus was still hot on my belly hair. The Alpha who claimed to "mark" my entire body finally marked me permanently with his fangs. Now, I have become a ghost wolf entangled between his bed curtains, watching him cramp every night due to guilt. Thorn always said he wanted to conquer me - now every breath of his is under my control. How interesting it is when this arrogant wolf king starts to whimper like courtship to the air...

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself at Alpha Thorne Blackwood and his childhood friend Beta Livia Frost’s mating ceremony.

Livia was wearing the pure white ceremonial gown that Alpha Thorne had custom-made for me—a gown worth millions, woven with moon-silver threads blessed by the Pack Seer. She clutched his hand, her claws retracted in false delicacy, her smile dripping with smug satisfaction as her golden wolf eyes gleamed in triumph.

At this, my ghostly form trembled, phantom tears burning in my eyes. A growl built in my throat, but when I lunged forward to stop them, my spectral body passed right through theirs.

The realization struck like a silver dagger to the heart.

I was already dead.

What remained of me was nothing more than a restless spirit, bound to the living world by grief and fury.

Before despair could fully claim me, the gathered pack members began chanting, their voices rising in unison.

"Claim her! Mark her!"

Most of these wolves had once been our friends—Alpha Thorne’s and mine. Not long ago, they had whispered their pity for me, swearing that even if he took Livia as his mate, they would never stand for such betrayal.

Yet now, they bared their throats in submission to him, their loyalty shifting like the wind.

I let out a bitter, hollow laugh.

Of course. Their kindness had always been about currying favor with the Alpha. Now that Livia stood at his side, why would they spare a thought for a dead she-wolf like me?

But one voice still dared to speak against the tide.

"Alpha Thorne," a young Omega murmured, "this is too cruel to Luna Sylva. What if something’s happened to her?"

Alpha Thorne swirled his goblet of blood-red wine, his ice-blue eyes flickering with disinterest. "Sylva brought this on herself. After the ceremony, I’ll release her. The den has enough food to keep her alive. She’s been spoiled too long—a little suffering will do her good."

He didn’t know.

I was already dead.

And he had killed me with his own claws.

A week ago, Alpha Thorne had demanded I agree to a false mating bond with Beta Livia, who carried another wolf’s pup and needed his name to shield her from disgrace.

I refused.

"If she needs a pretend mate, let her find another Beta—or better yet, the father of her pup. Why must it be you, a bonded Alpha? She’s scheming!"

He snarled at me, accusing me of petty jealousy, and we fought like feral beasts.

In the past, I would have bowed my head, submitting to his will just to keep the peace. But this time, I stood my ground—even threatening to sever our bond if he went through with it.

I never imagined he’d secretly complete the mating rites with Livia behind my back.

When I saw them under the full moon, their scents entwined as the Pack Elder blessed their union, the shock sent me into early labor. My pup kicked violently, and my waters broke right there in the sacred circle.

Alpha Thorne halted the ceremony, lifting me into his arms with a snarl of concern.

For one fleeting moment, I thought he was taking me to the Pack Healer.

Instead, he carried me to the abandoned dens of Moonwood Territory and locked me inside, ordering me to "reflect on my disobedience."

It was him.

My own mate.

The one who led me to my death.

As I watched from the shadows, Alpha Thorne suddenly stiffened, his nostrils flaring as if catching a distant scent. He turned to Beta Garrick, his second-in-command.

"Go check on Luna Sylva. If she’s ready to apologize to Livia, we’ll let her out."

A bitter laugh escaped me.

Apologize? For what?

I had done nothing wrong. I hadn’t lied—I had been in labor.

But under Beta Livia’s sly whispers, Alpha Thorne believed I’d faked it, that I’d humiliated him by losing control of my body in front of the entire pack.

He trusted her over his own Luna.

Seeing his hesitation, Livia pressed a delicate hand to her belly, her voice trembling with false concern.

"Alpha Thorne, even though Luna Sylva lost control and attacked me earlier… she’s still carrying your heir. If something happened to her… Perhaps you should release her."

She lowered her eyes, the picture of wounded grace. "This time, I’ll protect my pup better. She can hate me all she wants, but my child is innocent…"

Earlier, when I’d burst into their ceremony, Livia had taunted me with whispered barbs only I could hear—"He’ll never choose a weak she-wolf like you over me."

The hormones, the fury, the betrayal—it shattered my control. I lunged.

But before I could reach her, she collapsed, howling in "pain," her claws tearing at her own gown for effect.

That was why Alpha Thorne locked me away.

Now, hearing Livia’s false plea, he cupped her face, his voice softening. "No one will harm you or your pup while I live."

Then, to Beta Garrick, cold as winter frost: "Tell Luna Sylva she’ll stay confined until she begs Livia’s forgiveness."

Livia nuzzled against his shoulder, her tail flicking smugly. "You’re so good to us, Alpha."

The pack erupted in laughter, their voices merging into a chorus of encouragement.

"Just make her your true mate, Alpha Thorne! You and Livia have been bonded since pup-hood—how could a mere human-turned-wolf compare?"

Livia ducked her head in feigned shyness, her claws teasing the edge of Alpha Thorne’s ceremonial cloak.

I braced for him to agree.

But his growl silenced them all.

"Enough. Livia and I are bound only for appearances. Luna Sylva is possessive—if she hears this nonsense, she’ll—"

He cut himself off, and my ghostly heart ached.

Hollow words.

If he truly cared, he wouldn’t have mated her at all.

Livia’s smile turned venomous, the air thickening with tension—until Alpha Thorne’s phone shattered the silence.

Thinking it was me calling to surrender, he answered with a sharp, "Sylva, you—"

But the voice on the other end was a stranger’s.

"Are you Luna Sylva Blackwood’s mate? This is Healer Grant from Silverfang Clinic. We’ve lost contact with her. Her whelping date is near—when will you bring her in?"

Alpha Thorne froze. "Whelping date? She’s only six months along."

A pause. Then, the Healer’s voice turned icy.

"Six months? Alpha, she’s eight months pregnant. The pup could come any night. How do you not know your own mate’s condition?"