Page 6 of Abandoned By My Alpha Husband

Books said werewolf pregnancies were agonizing, especially first births. I'd prepared myself mentally.

But I hadn't expected this much pain.

Every contraction felt like someone carving out my insides with a knife. I bit down on a towel, tears streaming uncontrollably. Jenny held my hand the whole time, helped me regulate my breathing, and gave me water.

Outside, the sky gradually brightened. I didn't know how much time had passed. Only that I'd gone numb with pain.

Then, after one final push, I heard crying.

Thin, sharp baby cries.

Trembling, I reached out, picked up that tiny, sticky life.

A boy.

He was wrinkled, covered in blood, crying loudly. Jenny cleaned him with warm water, wrapped him in a prepared blanket, and placed him in my arms.

I rocked him gently. My heart filled with something soft. The baby seemed to sense something and quieted. Then he opened his eyes.

Gray with a ring of gold, like fire smoldering beneath the surface.

"Elena." Jenny suddenly spoke, staring at me, expression grave. "Tell me the truth. Is this pup's father human or not?"

My hand froze. Jenny phrased it as a question, but she already knew the answer—"pup". Only werewolves called their young that.

Seeing my expression, Jenny sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh, Elena."

"You have to give him up."

My grip tightened. "No. I'm keeping him."

Jenny's eyes widened. "Are you out of your mind, Elena?" She pointed at the baby's eyes. "Do you see how obvious his werewolf traits are? You don't even have to guess. What human has pupils like that?"

Jenny lowered her voice. "Did you forget what happens in Silver pine when they find out you gave birth to a half-blood?"

I knew. Of course I knew.

Reserpine's noble werewolves were violently opposed to mixed-bloods. Thought they tainted their precious bloodlines. At best, they'd spare them because of their half-werewolf heritage. But the women who bore them were the worst sinners of all. Hunted relentlessly.

"Elena!" Jenny grabbed my hand. She glanced at the baby. He was even smiling. "You have to give this child away." Her voice shook. "I won't tell. But you have to—" She paused. "Elena, maybe in the werewolf world, he'll live more freely?"

The baby gripped my finger. He looked at me curiously. So small. So soft. So dependent on me. My vision blurred. But I knew Jenny was right. Without me, he'd have a better life.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, voice hoarse. "I'm sorry, baby..."

"You'll have a better life." I looked at him, trying to memorize every detail. "Someone will love you, take care of you... so much better than Mommy could..."

Jenny kept holding my hand.

A few days later, I'd recovered some strength. I wrapped the baby in a blanket. He slept peacefully, tiny hands occasionally clenching into fists. I stared at his face. My heart felt like someone was squeezing it.

I changed into my neatest clothes—a faded T-shirt and jeans. Put on a hat and mask. Carried the baby out. I didn't let Jenny come. She was working at the cafe today.

The Werewolf Guard Station was on the other side of the city. I rode for a long time, transferred twice.

When I finally arrived, it was almost noon.

The station was an imposing building. Gray-white stone, massive columns, uniformed werewolf guards at the entrance. I took a deep breath, held the baby close, and climbed the steps.