Chapter 229

Hannah

My stomach dropped as I read that message over and over.

“Hey, Alpha. Long time no chat.”

WhiteRabbit had returned. Somehow, and for reasons I didn’t yet understand, that elusive internet vendor who had once sold me contraceptive-laced diet pills had returned.

“What do you want?” I typed back, my fingers trembling slightly. I felt like a fool for responding at all, for not immediately running to the guard stationed outside my door, but my curiosity got the better of me.

The bubbles appeared, disappeared, then reappeared. The anticipation made my heart race.

Finally, a response came through: “You should know that I had nothing to do with putting the contraceptives in those pills. I was just given them to sell to you. But I can tell you who gave them to me… For a price.”

A price. In exchange for valuable information.

I could find out who had been plotting to keep me from getting pregnant, and maybe even why. Assuming the information would be real and not entirely made up.

For a moment, I almost asked what that price would be. The temptation was almost too much, and my fingers hovered over the keyboard, itching to find out. To finally punish whoever had caused my death.

But then I remembered who I was now.

I was Alpha Hannah, not the desperate, confused girl I had been all those months ago. I wasn’t desperate for information. I was safe now. My baby was safe.

And I wasn’t about to fall victim to an online drug peddler.

“Fuck off,” I typed, gritting my teeth. “I’m not interested in this sort of thing anymore. I have bigger fish to fry than the likes of you.”

The response was almost immediate, the notification ping cutting through the silence: “Suit yourself. I’ll be here when you change your mind.”

Not ‘if’. When.

With a shudder, I turned off my phone and tossed it onto the nightstand, the soft thud as it landed next to my crown serving as a final punctuation to the exchange. There would be no ‘when’.

First thing in the morning, I would show this conversation to my head of security and have them track WhiteRabbit down. I would not be paying any price for that information. I didn’t make deals with scammers.

But the next morning, I didn’t tell anyone. I almost did, but… something stopped me. Curiosity, perhaps. Or fear. I couldn’t be sure.

I didn’t tell anyone the next day, either. Or the next day. In fact, months passed. And that last message sat waiting for me, mocking me.

“I’ll be here when you change your mind.”

…

Over the next two and a half months, I threw myself into my work as the first female Alpha of Silvermoon. The days blurred together in a whirlwind of meetings, decisions, and constant battles against outdated perceptions.

It wasn’t easy—many of the older men looked down on me. To them, I was just a trophy wife who happened to stumble into the role of Alpha. To them, I didn’t deserve respect or even the time of day.

At more than one meeting, I was outright ignored and talked over. And at more than one meeting, I’d have to slam my notebook down and rise from my chair and shout at them to pull their heads out of their asses and listen to me.

And at more than one meeting, their eyes would simply flick to my growing belly, smirks stretching across their faces, and they would carry on with their cruelty.

But not all was lost.

As the weeks passed, whispers about Noah’s struggles in Nightcrest reached my ears. The pack grapevine was alive with gossip, each new tidbit more shocking than the last.

Apparently, his engagement to Zoe wasn’t sitting well with many of his business partners. He was facing backlash for how he had treated me, losing opportunities left and right. They thought he had no loyalty, that partnering with him would result in being stabbed in the back.

Part of me felt a twisted sense of satisfaction at this news, the ember of hurt still glowing faintly in my chest.

But I pushed those feelings aside, focusing instead on the needs of my own pack—and my baby’s upcoming birth. He never attended any meetings with me, anyway. I never saw or heard from him over those months.

Not even once. Not even when I took a sizable chunk of Nightcrest members as my own.

In my third month as Alpha, I held an acceptance ceremony for new members of Silvermoon. The great hall was packed once again. To my surprise and delight, many familiar faces from Nightcrest were among those seeking to join our pack.

I stood before the crowd, one hand resting on my swollen belly. Viona stood beside me, phoenix pin clasped to the lapel of her pantsuit.

“Welcome,” I said, my voice carrying across the crowded room. “To those of you joining us from other packs, know that Silvermoon is now your home. We are family.”

The line went out the door and into the street that day. And although my back hurt from an eight-month pregnancy and my feet were swollen, I greeted and welcomed each and every attendee with a smile on my face until none were left.

A few days later, I found myself sitting across from Emily, the reporter who had been documenting my journey from the beginning. Her camera was set up as we lounged in plush armchairs, cups of steaming tea between us.

“So, Hannah,” Emily began, her pen poised over her notepad. “A lot has happened since we last spoke. How do you feel about Noah’s engagement to Zoe?”

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. The mention of him still made my heart pound, but I couldn’t crack. Especially not on camera.

“Noah is a man who knows what he wants, and I am a woman who knows what I want. We simply wanted different things.”

Emily’s eyebrows rose slightly. “That’s very... gracious of you. Many people in your position might not be so kind.”

I shrugged. “What good would it do to speak poorly of him? We’ve both moved on. Now, I am focused on my pack and my baby…”

The episode aired a week later, and I was overwhelmed by the support I received. Messages flooded in, each one praising my grace and maturity. Yet I could sense an undercurrent of disbelief, a shared assumption that I was just being kind, trying not to drag Noah through the mud.

As my due date approached, I found myself increasingly distracted during meetings. My belly was enormous now, stretching the fabric of my clothes. The baby seemed to delight in kicking me at the most inopportune moments, as if reminding me of its presence. And the men who had smirked over the sight of my bump now saw me as nothing but a walking womb.

But I persisted.

One afternoon, as I was reviewing some budget proposals in my office, the scratching of my pen against paper the only sound in the room, a sharp knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

“Come in,” I called, rubbing my lower back as I straightened up. I needed a vacation. A good, long one. But I doubted I’d get one.

Viona entered, an envelope in her hand and an unreadable expression on her face. “This just came for you,” she said, holding it out.

I took the envelope, noting the heavy, expensive paper. Instantly, I think I knew what was inside.

As I unfolded the contents, my breath caught in my throat. It was indeed exactly what I suspected: an invitation, adorned with delicate gold lettering. But it was no mere invitation to a charity gala or a birthday party.

It was a wedding invitation.

Signed by Noah and Zoe.