My Alpha Husband Burned Me Alive While Pregnant—All for His First Love

I was a week away from giving birth when my mate—my husband—Alpha Byron forced me to care for his beloved first love, Lucia.

She had just miscarried. And instead of grieving quietly, she used it to strike.

She slipped wolfsbane into my robe pocket. A setup. She cried and screamed that I’d tried to ruin her womb with poison.

And Byron… he believed her without hesitation.

He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t even look at me. Instead, he barked orders.

“Strip her.”

I was yanked down by his guards, clothes torn away, dignity shattered.

“Bind her with moon vine. Throw her onto the altar.”

The Moonstone Altar. A sacred place. A place of punishment.

The temperature was hellish—burning at 80 degrees Celsius—and I was made to kneel on it, bare, belly swollen with his child.

“All because you’re carrying my heir, you think that gives you the right to bully Lucia?” he snapped. “I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.”

I begged. Gods, I begged.

Through blistered lips and choking breaths, I pleaded with him to spare me, for the baby’s sake, at least.

“I’ll step down as Luna,” I swore. “She can have the title. Just let me go…”

He laughed.

“Don’t use the child as your shield, Hilda. You’re not getting out of this. In fact, …” He turned to the guards. “Add more stones. Max it out. She hasn’t even begun to suffer.”

And then he left. Just turned his back and walked away.

Terror ripped through me. The altar seared into my skin. My wolf, Mia, howled in agony inside me, and suddenly—Pain. Real, splitting pain. I was going into labor.

I screamed. Clawed at the stone. Begged the guards.

“Please… let the baby out… Please just take the baby…”

They hesitated. One of them whispered into a communicator.

But the response that came back chilled me more than the heat ever could.

“She’s faking it. Don’t fall for it. Take her phone. Seal the door.”

And then I heard his voice. Even through the stone, I heard Alpha Byron’s chilling decree:

“Anyone who opens that door... becomes a Rogue.”

That evening, while I bled and burned and gave birth in silence, he was in our bedroom—feeding Lucia soup by hand.

“She’s still throwing a tantrum,” he muttered with a sigh. “Won’t even admit she’s wrong. Who’s going to make Lucia’s nutrient potions now?”

Lucia let out a small, delicate whimper. She was wrapped in my silk sheets, lying on my side of the bed.

“I don’t blame her for calling me selfish,” she whispered. “Maybe I am. Maybe I deserve her hate...”

Her voice cracked as tears slipped from the corners of her eyes.

“If she wants to slap me or make me drink poison, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything just to stay close to you, Byron. That’s all I want…”

Byron gathered her into his arms, kissing the backs of her hands like she was some goddess fallen from the stars.

“Oh, Lucia. You’re too good. That jealous woman will never understand the kind of love you give.”

"You’ve risked everything for me. Everything. I won’t let her hurt you again.”

Lucia lowered her lashes, whispering, “Alpha Byron… lately I’ve felt… swollen…here…” She pressed his hand against her chest. “It’s different. Tender. I’m… embarrassed to let the doctor check…”

Byron chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, as his gaze darkened.

“Well then,” he whispered, pinning her beneath him, fingers lacing through hers, “Let me handle it. I'll will give you a thorough… examination.”

Meanwhile… I was silent. No more cries came from the altar. No one responded to the baby's soft, dying whimper.

And by the time they decided to finally open that cursed door—All they found…Were two tiny, lifeless wolf pups, curled up against my scorched, blood-soaked skin.

My babies. Born in fire. Born alone. And gone.