Blaming the Alpha for Our Daughter’s Death

Arya’s POV

The night was supposed to be a celebration, as my daughter had just aced the pack’s final rigorous combat training, and her father took her out to celebrate.

But now, the peace of that evening shattered as my phone buzzed, pulling me from my reverie. The tone in Charlotte’s voice was not one of the victory I expected but of confusion.

“Mom, Dad got a call from some woman on our way back,” she mentioned.

‘It must be that bitch again,’ Alina, my wolf, snarled disdainfully, to which I agreed.

But a cold dread gripped us at Charlotte’s next words.

“And he just dropped me off here, outside our pack territory. Mom, who could be so important that he left me here alone?” she wondered, unaware of the danger she was in.

The area outside our pack’s borders was no place for anyone, let alone a young werewolf. Rogues—feral wolves without a pack—were known to lurk there, waiting for an opportunity to attack the unwary, especially those who were vulnerable and alone.

“Charlotte, listen to me. You need to get out of there now! Run back to the border. Transform if you have to—” I urged, trying to keep the panic from my voice.

But before I could finish, a gunshot cracked through the phone, piercing my soul. The line went dead, followed by a hollow thud. My heart lurched, and a scream tore from my lips.

“Charlotte!” I shrieked, but the silence on the other end was chilling.

At the pack infirmary, one of the pack healers told me the news I dreaded most—Charlotte was in critical condition. Only the head healer, my mate, Godrick Raven, could treat her. The healer’s words blurred in my mind as I frantically contacted Godrick through the mind link. However, I couldn’t reach him, so I dialed his phone number instead.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally answered.

“Godrick, get to the infirmary now! Something happened to Charlotte!” I exclaimed, my voice breaking with desperation.

But instead of the concern I expected, his voice dripped with cold disdain. “Arya, I’m already tired of your lies. Stop making up stories to get my attention.”

‘Why can’t he even trust us, even just this one?’ Alina irritatingly grumbled.

Before I could voice out our protest, a woman’s voice cut through the line. “Godrick, come here quickly,” she cooed. It was Deserie Hansley, his first love.

And with that, the call ended.

Alina and I burst into a rage upon hearing that woman’s voice.

Deserie came from a welloff family, which was probably one of the reasons why my mate loved her and couldn’t let go of her. They were a perfect match—one from a royal family and one from a wealthy family.

I dialed Godrick’s number again, only to hear the dead tone of his phone. At this time, Charlotte’s condition was drastically worsening.

Half an hour later, the pack healer finally emerged from a room in the infirmary, his face a mask of grim determination.

I could barely keep myself upright as I stumbled forward, my voice cracking with desperation. “How’s my daughter?”

His eyes softened, but his words were like a punch to the gut. “We need the pack head healer to treat your daughter; otherwise, she won’t make it.”

My breath hitched. “Is Godrick really the only one who can do it?” I asked again, silently hoping there was someone else who could operate in his stead.

Sadly, the healer crushed that hope of mine. “Yes, Arya,” he nodded, her voice unwavering. “Your daughter is now in critical condition, and your mate is the only healer in our pack with a record of success in cases like this.”

“Can’t we move her to neighboring packs? There has to be someone else!” I desperately suggested, knowing my mate was now on vacation and had his phone turned off.

As panic clawed at my chest, the healer’s eyes held a sorrowful certainty.

“I’m afraid that’s not a choice, Arya. She won’t survive the transfer. Her father is her only chance. You must get to him now.”

Godrick had vanished with Deserie with his phone turned off while our daughter lay dying. I no longer know what to feel at this point.

Arya’s POV

As desperation engulfed me, I scoured my mind for any way to reach Godrick and suddenly remembered seeing Deserie’s Instagram account. I found it and saw she’d just posted a video—she was at the River Ash Pack infirmary, with Godrick by her side.

My blood boiled and Alina growled in fury at the sight, but I didn’t have time for anger. I transformed into my wolf form and rushed like a mad shewolf to the River Ash Pack, my mind racing against time. After three excruciating hours, I arrived. The guards blocked me at first, but after hearing my reason, they finally let me in.

When I finally found them, they were sitting on a bench, Deserie leaning comfortably on Godrick’s shoulder.

‘I knew it! This bitch is really something,’ Alina sharply spat.

“Godrick, my daughter will be okay, right?” she worriedly asked, her voice sounding so sweet.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a burn. I know she can make it through,” he reassured confidently.

‘Look at those two, too engrossed in each other to even catch a whiff of our scent and realize that we’re here. Tch!’ Alina grumbled disdainfully.

“Godrick!” I roared, my voice laced with fury and desperation.

They jumped, startled by my presence. Deserie straightened up, feigning innocence.

“Arya, what are you doing here? And how did you get in here?” Godrick coldly asked with a hint of surprise in his tone and his eyes narrowing.

I didn’t have much time to waste, so I reached out to him. “That doesn’t matter. Charlotte’s been shot! She’s dying, Godrick. Only you can save her.”

Unexpectedly, he shook off my hand, his expression hardening. “Arya, aren’t you done yet with this kind of bullshit? You keep following me wherever I go, thinking Deserie and I are doing something wrong. Just so you know, I’m here to treat her daughter.”

“And how about our daughter? Godrick, please,” I sobbed, my voice cracking. “Our daughter needs you. She’s been shot with a wolfsbanelaced bullet. She won’t survive without you.”

Just then, Deserie interjected pitifully, “I understand that you’re jealous, Arya, but my daughter needs Godrick too.”

I no longer know what to say to convince him and my tears were continuously trickling down my cheeks. I pitifully looked at my mate. “Godrick, you’re not choosing to save someone else’s daughter over your own, right?”

However, he glared at me, his voice dripping with contempt. “Arya, Deserie’s daughter had severe burns, that’s why I’m here. Stop following me and saying terrible things about our daughter. You’re becoming more despicable and vicious day by day.”

“Please, Godrick, if you don’t believe me, just come and see Charlotte,” I pleaded, almost kneeling.

Once again, Deserie interrupted. “Arya, I know you can’t stand seeing us together, but my daughter needs him. Please put aside your jealousy even just for now.”

‘Even just for now? She always steals the time he should be spending with us!’ Alina groused.

Having had enough of her, I snapped. My hand flew before I could think, slapping Deserie across the face. “Shut up!”

“Arya, how dare you hit Deserie!” Godrick fumingly exclaimed, his eyes turning red with fury.

He then raised his hand to strike me back, but Deserie stopped him, her voice calm and manipulative. “Godrick, just ignore her. You need to be in the infirmary anytime now.”

Godrick took a deep breath with closed eyes and nodded.

“Right, I’ll go there now,” he said coldly, starting to walk off.

“No!” I cried, rushing after him, but Deserie held me back.

“Let me go!” I growled at Deserie but my tired body couldn’t get to push her aside.

“Godrick, please! Come back with me! Charlotte needs you!” I screamed, but he didn’t even look back.

As he disappeared from sight, my legs gave way. I collapsed, griefstricken, my world falling apart. My daughter was dying, and the one man who could save her had chosen someone else. Darkness closed in, and the last thing I remembered was the taste of my own tears as I fainted, consumed by despair.

Arya’s POV

When I woke up, an unfamiliar scent filled my nostrils. Seeing the dim lighting and pure white paint in my surroundings, I realized I was in an infirmary. Despite my aching limbs, I forced myself to sit up and walk toward the door. As I stepped out of my room, I spotted Godrick in the room across from mine.

“Mr. Raven, thank you for treating me,” came the soft voice of Johanna, Deserie’s daughter, lying on the bed with fragile innocence.

“Johanna, from now on, call Mr. Raven ‘Uncle,’“ Deserie cooed, her voice sickly sweet, a smile plastered on her face.

“Okay. Thank you again, Uncle,” Johanna replied, her voice dripping with gratitude.

Godrick leaned down, brushing Johanna’s forehead with a tenderness that twisted the knife deeper into my chest. “Alright, be good. Take good care of yourself.”

The sight of him doting on another’s child while our own lay fighting for her life filled me with a bitter envy that made my blood boil. I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms.

‘Saving other’s child first. Is he really our mate? He didn’t catch a whiff of our scent again. I wonder if his nose is still fine,’ I seethed inwardly.

‘Indeed. How I wish he wasn’t our mate,’ Alina, my wolf, echoed flatly, her voice laced with disappointment.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I needed him to come back to our daughter. Stepping into the room, I let the tension between us thicken.

“Her daughter’s treatment is done. Can you go back with me now?” My voice was strained, barely masking the desperation behind it.

But Deserie wasn’t done. She latched onto Godrick’s arm, her eyes wide with false concern. “Godrick, please stay for a few more days. If my daughter has any complications, I’ll feel at ease knowing you’re here.”

Just then, a nurse nearby heard her and interjected, “Don’t worry, there won’t be any complications.”

Then, in a low voice, she added, “After all, it’s just a severe burn. Even our own pack healers could have handled it. I don’t even get why you insist on bringing in a healer from another pack.”

Both Alina and I agreed with the nurse, igniting our anger once more.

“Godrick, you’ve done enough here. Why are you still waiting? Are you planning to wait until our daughter dies before you regret it?” My voice quivered with rage, a barely contained snarl.

Deserie, ever the thorn in my side, spat back with venom, “You’re really something, Arya. I’ve never seen a mother like you. You dare say your daughter is dying out of petty jealousy?”

I wanted to rip her throat out, to see her blood spill for those words, but Godrick’s cold voice cut through the tension. “This is an infirmary. Keep your voice down. Go back first; I’ll return in a few days.”

Just then, my daughter’s attending healer called.

“Ms. Elsher, please come to the infirmary to see your daughter one last time.”

Panic clawed at my insides. I put the call on speaker, letting Godrick hear the gravity of the situation, hoping against hope that it would snap him out of this stupor. But Deserie was quick to twist the knife deeper.

“Wow, she even hires actors now,” she sneered.

And like a puppet on a string, Godrick turned on me, his fangs bared. “Enough with the theatrics, Arya. Get out. I don’t want to see you.”

His words hit like a physical blow, knocking the breath out of me. My claws extended, digging into my palms as I fought back tears.

‘Arya, forget them. Charlotte needs you now,’ Alina urged, her voice a lifeline in the storm.

‘You’re right,’ I agreed and nodded.

“Fine. If our daughter dies, remember this moment. You’ll have only yourself to blame.”

As such, I rushed out of the infirmary and ran back to our pack, directly going to where my daughter was.

However, when I arrived, it was too late. My daughter was now in the morgue, lying on a slab, her body cold, her life snuffed out too soon.

Alina howled in agony as I cradled Charlotte’s lifeless form, my tears falling freely. It felt like my soul was being ripped apart, piece by piece.

Godrick hadn’t been back, so I was forced to take care of our daughter’s funeral alone. It was a blur, a nightmare from which I couldn’t wake.

Holding her urn, the reality of her loss crushed me. Charlotte was a star in their pack’s final combat training, her future so bright. She was meant to be a warrior, a beacon of hope for our pack. But now, she was gone, her light extinguished.

I locked myself in her room, her scent lingering in the air. I touched her belongings, each one a painful reminder of what I’d lost.

Third Person POV

While Arya drowned in sorrow, far away, another woman reveled in her victory.

“You did a great job. I’ll send your payment soon. Until our next transaction,” the woman said, her smile twisting into a cruel grin.

Turning to the child beside her, she whispered with sick delight, “Now that their daughter is dead, there’s nothing binding them. He’ll reject her, cast her aside like trash. And then, I’ll take my rightful place as his chosen mate. We’ll be a happy family.”

Her laughter rang out, sharp and sinister, echoing through the room like a death knell.

Arya’s POV

After what felt like an eternity of silence, the familiar but now distant voice of Godrick echoed through our mind link.

‘Arya, Luna is holding a congratulatory party for Charlotte. Arrive early tomorrow,’ he coldly instructed.

My heart clenched, the bitterness rising like bile in my throat. ‘What’s the point of that party when the one we’re celebrating is no longer with us?’ I thought, my voice void of any emotion.

‘You can take this chance to tell Luna everything,’ Alina, my wolf, suggested, her anger barely restrained.

Churning with anger, I hugged my daughter’s urn tightly and said through gritted teeth, “Okay.”

Godrick and I met one hot summer. I’d collapsed from overfatigue and heatstroke on the road, and he, then an aspiring healer, had found me. He’d saved my life that day, and that was when we discovered that we were mates.

We seemed perfect for each other back then—our interests aligned, our conversations endless. Two years later, we decided to settle down, and Godrick, now a fullyfledged head healer, became engrossed in his work. I took on the role of managing our household, ensuring that he never had to worry about anything but his patients.

One day, I stumbled upon an old photograph in his wallet—an intimate snapshot of him and another woman.

“Godrick, who’s this girl?” I asked, my heart pounding.

He hesitated, his expression conflicted before he finally admitted, “My first love.”

He watched me, waiting for a reaction.

But I smiled, swallowing the unease that threatened to surface. “Oh, is that so? Don’t worry, I’m not upset. Everyone has someone special from their past.”

He seemed relieved, even touched by my response. And when we had our daughter, Charlotte, he even tore up the photo in front of me, promising me that I was the only one who mattered. For a time, we were happy, our little family thriving—until Deserie’s rich mate died three years ago.

That was when everything changed.

Godrick began spending more and more time with Deserie, under the guise of helping her through her grief. He supported her in every way, giving her time that once belonged to us. “Time is life,” he often said, but it was Deserie who now consumed his life.

He lied about business trips and emergency surgeries, all excuses to be with her. Latenight calls, supposedly urgent, were nothing more than her nightmares, pulling him away from our bed and into hers.

Even on Charlotte’s birthday, when we waited for him to take us to the park, he never showed up. When I connected to him through a mind link, he said he was at the infirmary for an emergency and told us to go without him.

But days later, when I checked his phone, I found the truth. He had been with Deserie.

Deserie: [Look, Godrick, I accidentally cut my finger while reminiscing about our time together.]

Her message, complete with a photo of a minor cut, was nothing but a ploy. By the time Godrick arrived, her wound would’ve already healed. But what stung the most was that he still left us on our daughter’s birthday for her.

That was the final straw.

The day of the congratulatory party arrived. I clutched Charlotte’s urn close as I walked into the hall, where over twenty tables were set up. The pack was already gathered, their voices a dull roar in the background as they showered Godrick with praise.

“Godrick, you’re so lucky to have such a promising daughter. She did well in their final combat training. I’m sure she’ll be one of the great warriors soon,” a pack member lauded.

“Well, it’s all in the genes. Godrick was also excellent in his time. It’s no surprise his daughter would follow suit,” another chimed in.

“Will Charlotte pursue being a warrior, or does she want to be a hunter?” asked Caleb, Godrick’s cousin.

“It’s her choice. She’s welcome in both groups, so she can choose whichever she prefers,” Godrick responded, his voice brimming with pride.

Finally, after being basked in all of their praises, Godrick caught my scent and turned to me. But instead of welcoming me with warmth, he faced me with anger.

“Why are you only here now? Didn’t I tell you to come early?” he snapped. “Where’s our daughter?”

Before I could answer, the scent of the most unwelcome guests at this socalled party reached my nose—Deserie and her daughter.

“You’ve got some nerve, Godrick. You even brought them here to your daughter’s party,” I growled, the anger bubbling just beneath my skin.

“Arya, don’t be petty. They’re here to congratulate her. You wouldn’t embarrass me by causing a scene, would you?” Godrick snarled, his patience thin.

Just then, Luna Ethel, Godrick’s mother and the Luna of our pack, approached, her face lined with concern. “Arya, why didn’t my precious granddaughter come with you?”

All eyes turned to me, the room growing tense with curiosity.

“Arya, stop this nonsense. Bring Charlotte here now,” Godrick demanded, his tone sharp.

“I already did,” I replied, my voice flat, emotionless.

“What are you talking about? I don’t smell her scent anywhere,” he retorted, looking around.

Slowly, I reached into my bag and pulled out the urn, placing it on the table with deliberate care.

“Here,” I said.

The once jubilant room fell into a stunned hush, every eye locked on the urn. The shock and disbelief were palpable, the air thick with unspoken accusations.

Arya’s POV

They thought I was playing a sick joke. At our daughter’s congratulatory party, no less.

“Are you insane?” Godrick’s voice thundered, his words laced with fury and disgust. “This is our daughter’s celebration, and you bring an urn? How dare you! Are you really her mother?”

‘Not believing us again,’ Alina, my wolf, growled within me, her fury simmering.

The murmurs of the pack grew louder, their judgment cutting through me like a thousand daggers. Luna Ethel’s face twisted in anger, her voice rising above the growing chaos.

“Arya, what is the meaning of this?” she demanded, her tone icy and accusatory. “Do you have an issue with the party I organized, or is this some twisted attempt to spite me? What is with the urn? Are you trying to drive me to an early grave?”

Godrick grabbed my wrist angrily, his red eyes burning with rage. “Where is Charlotte?” he snarled, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury.

“I told you, she’s right here,” I said, pointing to the urn. “This is Charlotte, our daughter.”

His hand shot out, grabbing my face, his claws digging into my cheeks as he spat, “Haven’t you had enough?”

Luna Ethel quickly stepped between us, her expression a mix of frustration and concern. “Arya, whatever is going on between you and my son, this is not the time or place. Show some respect, and stop causing trouble.”

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. They poured down my face as I broke down, my voice cracking with grief. “Luna Ethel, this really is Charlotte.”

Godrick, his face a mask of disbelief, attempted to contact our daughter through the mind link, desperation seeping into his thoughts. When that failed, he pulled out his phone, dialing her number frantically.

“Why is her phone off?” he demanded, his voice rising in panic. “Did you restrict her freedom? Are you forcing her to go along with this sick act?”

I had no energy left to argue, no strength to fight. With shaking hands, I opened the urn, allowing the scent of Charlotte’s ashes to permeate the air. Their wolves wouldn’t lie to them. They couldn’t ignore the truth of what they smelled.

As the scent reached Godrick’s nose, he staggered back, his face draining of color. “Impossible,” he whispered, his voice hollow. “This can’t be true. Charlotte can’t be dead.”

Still couldn’t believe it, he fumbled with his phone, calling the infirmary, desperate for confirmation that this was all some horrific mistake. But when the healers confirmed her death, detailing the cause, Godrick collapsed, clutching the urn to his chest as he howled in anguish.

The pack members, who moments ago were so quick to judge, now stood in grim silence, their faces reflecting the shock and sorrow of the truth.

Luna Ethel, tears streaming down her face, gripped my hand tightly. “Arya, what happened? Why did my precious granddaughter die?”

I could barely speak through my sobs. “Your son is to blame, Luna Ethel,” I choked out, recounting the events of that fateful day. “No matter what I said, he didn’t believe me. He chose to treat his lover’s daughter instead of saving our daughter.”

The color drained from Luna Ethel’s face as she turned on Godrick, her fury erupting. “You bastard! How could you do this to your own daughter?”

Looking at Charlotte’s urn, her expression softened. “Poor Charlotte, her wonderful life cut short.”

Godrick’s defenses crumbled under the weight of her words. “I didn’t believe Arya because I thought she was lying,” he tried to explain, his voice breaking.

“It’s not that you didn’t think about it, Godrick—you didn’t care,” I spat, my eyes glowing a fierce golden yellow, my fangs bared. “No matter how much I begged, even fainting from crying, you ignored me. You believed Deserie’s lies, meant to tear us apart.”

“For 20 years, I have given everything for this family, supervised our daughter’s studies, endured your affair with Deserie, all to keep the peace for Charlotte’s sake. But you didn’t see my sacrifices. And now, she’s gone because of you.”

I collapsed to the ground, the pain in my heart unbearable.

“I’m so sorry, Arya,” he cried, his voice laced with regret.

But it was all too late for that now.

“Sorry? Can that make my daughter come back to life?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Godrick wept, clutching the urn tighter. “Charlotte, my daughter. Daddy is so sorry. Please, Moon Goddess, bring her back. I’ll do anything to make it right.”

“How dare you ask for her forgiveness after abandoning her?” I growled, my anger boiling over.

In a display of selfloathing, Godrick slapped himself, “Charlotte, Daddy was wrong. Please, come back to me.”

Suddenly, Johanna, Deserie’s daughter, approached, her expression disturbingly serene. “Uncle, don’t be sad. Mom says now you can reject your mate and make her your chosen one. Then you can leave everything to me in your will. I’ll care for you as my father.”

My blood ran cold as her words sunk in, the realization crashing down on me like a tidal wave.

‘Was this all planned?’ I wondered, the depth of their betrayal hitting me like a punch to the gut.

Arya’s POV

Unexpectedly, Godrick snapped, shoving Johanna to the ground with such force that she yelped in shock. “You, child—go to hell!” he roared, his voice seething with an anger I had never seen in him before. This was the same man who once doted on Johanna as if she were his own, yet now he cursed her with a venom that shocked everyone.

‘I don’t think they planned this together,’ Alina whispered within me, her voice laced with sorrow. ‘I can feel his regret, Arya. He truly mourns our daughter.’

Deserie’s eyes widened in terror as she rushed to Johanna’s side, cradling her daughter protectively.

“Who invited them here?” Ethel asked, finally noticing they were not from our pack.

At that point, the rest of the pack, their expressions darkening with anger, turned their gaze toward Deserie and her daughter.

“Your son, Luna Ethel. They’re his lover and her daughter,” I spat, unable to hold back the bitterness in my voice. “The child he chose to save instead of our own daughter.”

Luna Ethel’s eyes blazed with fury, her voice trembling with rage. “This is unforgivable! How dare you! You will both pay dearly for this!” She turned on her heel, her tone leaving no doubt that she would exact her revenge. The pack, stunned into silence, watched her go.

“Luna Ethel, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen! Please, have mercy!” Deserie whimpered, her voice quivering with fear.

Luna Ethel paused, turning back just enough to issue her command. “None of you are to breathe a word of this to the Alpha. I will handle it myself.” With that, she left, her final words hanging in the air like a death sentence.

Deserie’s eyes darted to Godrick, her voice desperate. “Godrick! Please, help us!”

But Godrick didn’t hear her. He was lost in his own world, clutching our daughter’s urn as if it were his last link to sanity. His grief consumed him, leaving him deaf to her pleas.

Third Person POV:

Back at the River Ash Pack, Deserie dragged Johanna into their home, fury barely restrained. She shoved her daughter into her room, her voice a harsh whisper. “Why did you say that? And in front of the entire Moon Valley Pack and their Luna!”

Johanna’s eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling. “I… I thought it would make him feel better…”

Deserie’s anger flared, her hand twitching as if she might strike her daughter. But instead, she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, her mind racing. She knew they were doomed. Luna Ethel’s wrath was absolute, and there was no escaping the punishment that would come.

‘That Luna’s words are law. If she said there would be punishment, there would surely be one. I need to prepare,’ Deserie thought, biting her lip so hard it bled.

Arya’s POV

When we returned home, Godrick locked himself in our daughter’s room, weeping uncontrollably. His cries echoed through the house, each sob a dagger to my already shattered heart. I spent the night staring at the ceiling, my pillow drenched in tears, my mind replaying every memory of Charlotte that I would never have again.

The next morning, as we sorted through Charlotte’s belongings, Godrick stumbled upon a gift she had prepared for him—his Father’s Day present. A cervical massager, still neatly packaged, with a card inside. [Dear Dad, I know you’re always busy, so I got this to help with your neck pain. You save lives, but you need to take care of yourself too. I love you.]

The words, written in her neat handwriting, were a final blow. Godrick’s face crumpled as he read the card, his tears falling onto the paper.

I watched as he sank deeper into despair, his guilt a palpable weight that hung in the air. My own grief was a suffocating fog, but seeing him like this didn’t bring the solace I thought it might. It only made the emptiness inside me grow.

The next thing we found was a bookcase. It was filled with certificates and trophies she had won in every practice battle since childhood—evidence of her achievements.

Her desk was covered with various books and a family photo frame.

In the photo, she was smiling so brightly, a smile I could no longer see as everything had become a memory.

Not having had enough, Godrick took out his phone and watched videos of our daughter.

“Dad, I want to study healing too, to become as great as you. You’ve always been my hero, and I want to make you proud,” she said, hugging him.

As evening fell, the room was bathed in the red light of the setting sun.

‘I think this is a perfect moment to do this. Are you now ready, Alina?’ I asked my wolf.

‘I’ve been ready for a long time,’ she replied, her voice calm and resolute. ‘I’ve just been waiting for you.’

As such, I took a deep breath and said, “I, Arya Elsher, reject Godrick Raven, as my mate.”