I Kept the Alpha’s Secret Heir

I was just about to knock on the door to Alpha Dean’s study to deliver him great news about the pregnancy kit result, but I froze when I heard something. At first, I thought I was imagining things, but as the voices grew clearer, I realized they were real. The sound of muffled whispers—intimate, urgent. My heart skipped a beat. One voice was unmistakably Dean's, deep and commanding, the other—no mistake—it was Cecelia’s. My stepsister.

"Once I get the influence from Hannah's pack," Dean's voice sounded steady, but there was something... cold in it. "I'll get rid of her. You know I can't keep up the facade. I'm done with her, Cecelia. I can’t pretend anymore."

My stomach churned. This couldn’t be happening. My pulse was racing, my hands trembling as I pressed them against the door. No. This wasn’t real. My sister—Cecelia—cheating on me with my mate. And she's also cheating with her boyfriend, Nathan.

"No one will even care. It's just a matter of time," Cecelia responded, her voice too sweet, too knowing. "Besides, he’ll never know. You and I—" She let out a low laugh. "We’ve been fooling everyone for so long. It'll be so much easier when you get rid of her. Don’t you think?"

I felt my chest tighten. I wanted to scream, to break the door down, but I couldn’t. I needed to think. I needed to act fast.

That’s when I heard the footsteps in the hallway. My heart stopped for a second, and I quickly stepped back into the shadows. Nathan.

I watched him, his broad frame blocking the light as he walked toward the study door, carrying a file in his hands. He was so unaware, so innocent.

I couldn’t let him walk in there. Not now. Not when I was on the brink of losing everything.

I grabbed his arm, yanking him around the corner before he could knock. His eyes were wide with confusion, brow furrowed in that typical Nathan way.

"Hannah? What’s going on?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

I opened my mouth, but the words felt like rocks lodged in my throat. What was I supposed to say? That his own brother and my sister had betrayed both of us? No, I couldn’t say that—not yet. Not like this.

“I—I need your help with something in the kitchen,” I blurted out. “It’s… important. Please, just come with me.”

Nathan hesitated, looking back toward the study door. “But I was supposed to give Dean this file to look over.”

I bit my lip, my mind racing. “It’s nothing urgent. Trust me. The file can wait.” I tugged him further down the hallway, leading him toward the kitchen.

Lunch felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. The table was set, everyone in their places, but I couldn’t focus on the food. I could barely stomach it. Not with Cecelia laughing and leaning toward Dean as if nothing had happened. The air between them was thick with lies, and yet there they were—so comfortable with each other. The way Cecelia tossed her hair, the way Dean smiled at her, as if he didn’t know what I had overheard.

Nathan sat next to Cecelia, acting as the perfect boyfriend—charming, sweet, totally oblivious to the snake sitting next to him. I could feel the bitterness rising in me, burning through my veins. How could she do this to him? How could she do this to me?

I lifted the pot of soup from the stove, my grip tightening around the handle as my thoughts clouded. The broth sloshed in the pot, and before I could stop myself, I tipped the ladle. The hot soup splashed across the table, landing right in Cecelia’s lap.

The room went silent.

"Watch where you’re going, Hannah," Dean growled, his voice low, angry. The sharp edge in his tone was like a knife to my chest. He didn’t even look at me—just at Cecelia, his hand reaching for a napkin, as if he were protecting her.

“Apologize,” Dean snapped, his voice turning colder, more commanding.

I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place, my hand still gripping the ladle. All I could see was Cecelia’s face twisted in fury.

“Sorry. It was an accident,” I stammered, barely above a whisper, but my words seemed to cut through the tension.

"Stupid," Cecelia hissed, her voice sharp.

Before I could even process it, Nathan was on his feet, his brow furrowed in confusion, but there was something darker behind his gaze. Something that made my stomach drop.

“Don’t talk to your sister like that, Cecelia,” Nathan said, his voice tight with anger. I saw the way his eyes narrowed, and for the first time, I wondered if he might be starting to sense something off.

Cecelia stood abruptly, her face flushed with anger, her eyes flashing with venom. “Whatever,” she snapped, pushing her chair back. “I’m done here.”

Dean followed her out of the room without a word.

I was left staring at Nathan, my chest heavy. The silence between us felt suffocating. He didn’t speak at first, just studied me. His gaze was piercing, like he was trying to see through me.

“Hannah, is there something going on that I don’t understand? Because I’m feeling like I’m missing something.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of the truth pressing down on me. I could lie. I could say everything was fine. But the words wouldn’t come.

I took a deep breath and, without thinking, I whispered, “Cecelia and Dean are cheating on us.”

Nathan’s face went pale, and his lips parted in shock. For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of our breathing.

It was done. The truth was out. And now, we had to figure out how to solve this.

Nathan’s voice was sharp enough to cut glass. "How long have you known, Hannah?" he asked, his eyes blazing like twin embers.

I backed up a step, my palms raised defensively. “An hour, Nathan. I swear. That’s why I stopped you from going into the study room.”

Nathan’s jaw ticked, his fists clenched at his sides. “You shouldn’t have stopped me! I should’ve seen it with my own damn eyes. Let them know I’m not someone they can betray without consequences.”

“You would’ve made a scene!” I argued, my voice rising. “Your Dad is dying, Nathan. Do you really want his last memories to be you tearing the family apart?”

He flinched as if I’d slapped him, but the anger didn’t leave his face. “They already tore it apart, Hannah. Cecelia, of all people? And Dean? My own brother?”

I didn’t have an answer to that. Honestly, I didn’t know how to process it myself.

Nathan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You expect me to just stand here and do nothing?”

“For now? Yes,” I said, my voice softening. “At least until we figure out what to do. This isn’t the time to burn bridges. Not yet.”

His gaze lingered on me for a moment, his fury warring with something softer. Reluctantly, he nodded, but the tightness in his jaw told me he wasn’t convinced. Without another word, he stormed past me, his heavy footsteps echoing down the hall.

I exhaled, slumping against the wall. “What now?” I muttered to myself. The weight of everything threatened to crush me, but there was no time to fall apart. Not yet.

Later that evening, I sat in my father’s study, fiddling with the edge of my sleeve. His oncepowerful presence was now a frail shadow, but his eyes were as piercing as ever.

“You want to sever the bond with Alpha Dean?” my father repeated, his voice weak but laced with curiosity.

"Yes, because Dean has betrayed me. He’s…” My voice cracked, but I forced myself to continue. “He’s been with Cecelia.”

The room fell silent, the weight of my words settling like a storm cloud. My father let out a weary sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, they held none of the outrage I’d hoped for.

“Hannah,” he said slowly, “break up with Dean if that’s what you want. But don’t let their mistakes define your life. Let them have each other if that’s what they want.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. “Are you… Are you taking their side?”

“I’m taking no side,” he replied, his tone measured. “I’m asking you to choose peace over conflict. This family has had enough turmoil.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, refusing to let the tears spill. “Right,” I said stiffly, rising to my feet. “Thanks for the advice.”

As I left the study, I almost collided with Dean in the hallway. His towering presence made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral.

“There you are,” he said casually, as if nothing had happened. “Start preparing for Cecelia’s birthday. She’ll want everything perfect.”

I blinked, stunned by his audacity. He didn’t even mention my birthday from two weeks ago. No cake, no flowers, not even a word. Yet here he was, planning Cecelia’s celebration like it was the event of the century.

“Okay,” I muttered, not trusting myself to say more.

Dean gave a curt nod and walked away, his steps confident and unbothered. I watched him go, my chest tightening with a thousand unsaid words.

Once he was out of sight, I pulled the pregnancy test from my pocket. Two lines stared back at me, clear as day. My heart sank. I was carrying his child. And yet, I couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing.

I needed to leave this place. Leave him. Leave all of them.

That night, I tried to convince myself to sleep, but the door creaked open, and Cecelia sauntered in. My eyes widened in shock. She was wearing my dress.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snapped, sitting up.

Cecelia twirled in front of the mirror, a smug smile on her lips. “It looks good on me, doesn’t it? Thought I’d borrow it.”

“Borrow?” I hissed. “Without asking? That dress was Mom’s. She gave it to me.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “We’re sisters, Hannah. We share things.”

Something inside me snapped. “We don’t share everything, Cecelia,” I spat. “Take it off. Now.”

She crossed her arms, her expression defiant. “No. You’re being ridiculous.”

I shot out of bed, my anger boiling over. “Take it off, or I’ll take it off for you.”

When she didn’t move, I grabbed the hem of the dress, yanking it hard. The fabric tore with a loud rip, and Cecelia gasped in outrage.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked, stumbling back.

Before I could answer, the door burst open, and Dean strode in. His eyes darted between us, landing on the torn dress in my hands.

Cecelia’s expression shifted instantly. Her lips quivered, and she clutched the torn fabric to her chest. “Dean,” she whimpered, “Hannah attacked me. I was just trying to borrow a dress, and she…”

My heart pounded as I stared at her, my fury giving way to disbelief. “You’re lying!” I shouted, but Dean’s face was already darkening.

“Are you out of your mind, Hannah?!" He scoffed.

Dean’s voice was sharp and unrelenting as he towered over me. “You need to stop treating Cecelia like an outcast, Hannah. She’s your sister.”

I blinked, stunned by the sheer audacity. My sister. Right. The same sister who had wormed her way into every corner of my life, tearing apart everything I held dear. And now he wanted me to be kinder to her?

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “I’m treating her like an outcast?” My voice shook, my emotions barely held in check. “Do you even hear yourself, Dean? I’m the one being treated like I don’t belong. Every time something happens, you’re always rushing to her rescue, not mine.”

He stiffened, his jaw tightening, but I wasn’t done.

“You leave me behind every single time,” I continued, my voice rising. “You coddle her, protect her, as if she’s your mate. So why don’t you just admit it, Dean? What is Cecelia to you?”

Dean’s gaze flicked to Cecelia, standing demurely by the door in the ripped remains of my mother’s dress. His hesitation was like a slap to my face. For a fleeting moment, I thought he might actually tell me the truth.

But instead, he turned back to me, his face a cold mask. “She’s like a sister to me, Hannah. That’s it. I don’t know what crazy idea you’ve gotten into your head, but you’re being ridiculous. Lunatic, even.”

My chest tightened. He was lying. I could feel it in my bones. But before I could respond, Cecelia stepped forward, her face the picture of innocence. “Hannah, you’re overthinking everything. Dean and I are just close. That’s all.”

Their lies came so easily, so smoothly, it made my stomach churn. How could they stand there and say these things, knowing what they’d done? Knowing how they’d betrayed me?

I swallowed hard, refusing to let the tears fall. Turning to Cecelia, I forced a bitter smile. “Well, since you’ve got the dress now, happy birthday in advance.”

Cecelia blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but I didn’t wait for her to respond. I brushed past both of them, my steps purposeful as I headed outside.

The crisp night air hit my face, and I inhaled deeply, trying to calm the storm inside me. The garden was quiet, the only sound the rustling of leaves in the breeze. For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to disappear. To leave all of this behind.

“Hannah?”

I turned to see Nathan walking toward me, his expression softer than I’d seen in years. His anger from earlier had dissipated, replaced by concern.

“You okay?” he asked, stopping a few steps away.

I shook my head, unable to lie to him. “No. I’m not.”

He hesitated, then stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder. “What happened now?”

I looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in days, I felt a glimmer of hope. Nathan had always been my protector in his own way, even when he was brash and impulsive. Maybe… maybe he was the answer.

“Nathan,” I said quietly, my voice trembling. “I need your help.”

His brow furrowed. “With what?”

I took a deep breath, the words spilling out before I could secondguess myself. “I need you to pretend to be the father of my baby.”

Nathan stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “What?”

“You heard me,” I said, my tone firmer this time. “I can’t let Dean know. If he finds out, he’ll use the baby to control me. I can’t… I can’t let that happen.”

Nathan ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps away. “Hannah, do you realize what you’re asking? People will think—”

“Let them think it,” I cut in, my voice rising. “Let them think whatever they want. We both know the truth. And we both know who the real cheaters are here.”

He stopped pacing, turning back to me. His expression was conflicted, but there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice breaking. “Nathan, I need to protect this baby. Please.”

For a long moment, he just looked at me, his jaw working as he processed everything. Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll help you. But we need a plan.”

Relief flooded through me, and I managed a small, shaky smile. “Thank you.”

Later that night, I returned to my room, my mind spinning with the details of the plan Nathan and I had crafted. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

I pushed open the door, only to freeze in my tracks. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders hunched as he stared at something in his hand.

The breath left my lungs when I realized what it was. The pregnancy test.

He looked up as I entered, his eyes sharp and unreadable. “Are you pregnant?” he asked, his voice low. “Is it mine?”

My heart pounded, the air around me growing thick and suffocating. This was it. The moment of no return.

I straightened my spine, meeting his gaze headon. “Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m pregnant.”

His eyes narrowed, but before he could speak, I added, “But it’s not yours.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“It’s Nathan’s,” I lied, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

Dean’s expression shifted, a flicker of shock breaking through his stoic mask. For the first time, he looked truly shaken.

And for the first time, I felt like I had the upper hand.

I stood at the edge of the kitchen, arms elbowdeep in sudsy water as I scrubbed a stubborn dish. The clinking of glass and the hum of chatter floated through the air as the maids flitted about, adding final touches to the extravagant party. Cecelia’s birthday. Dean had spared no expense—goldtrimmed tablecloths, crystal chandeliers, and a cake so large it could probably feed a small village.

He treated her like royalty, like she was the goddess this entire territory had been waiting for. His mate, me? I was just another servant in the background, invisible.

I refused to let it bother me. Not when Nathan and I had our plan brewing. Every slight, every insult would soon be avenged.

"Still slaving away, Hannah?" Cecelia’s voice sliced through my thoughts like a knife.

I turned to find her leaning casually against the doorway, her red silk dress hugging her curves. She looked every bit the part of the spoiled princess, her lips curling in a smirk that made my skin crawl.

"Such a good sister," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Helping out with my party. Truly selfless."

I ignored her, dunking another plate into the water. She thrived on getting under my skin.

But then she took it a step further. "Though I can’t say I blame Dean for treating me better than you," she added, her voice lowering. "I mean, look at you—plain, pathetic, and desperate."

I froze, my hands tightening around the sponge. The anger bubbled up before I could shove it down. I spun around, fixing her with a glare.

"At least I’m not a spoiled brat who needs constant attention to feel important," I shot back, my voice calm but laced with venom.

Her smirk faltered for a split second, but she recovered quickly. Before she could retort, Dean appeared, his tall frame cutting between us like a wall.

"Hannah," he said, his voice sharp and commanding. "Don’t make a scene."

My blood boiled, but I forced a tight smile. "Maybe you should watch over your dog," I said, my voice sweet and cutting. "She’s the one barking, after all."

Dean’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond. Cecelia let out a huff and stormed away, her heels clicking against the polished floor. I grabbed a towel and wiped my hands, barely sparing him a glance before heading upstairs.

Nathan stood by the window at the far end of the hallway, his gaze fixed on the crowd below. Cecelia and Dean were easy to spot in the sea of people, their laughter and flirtation loud even from here.

The tension in Nathan’s posture was palpable, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Still staring at them?" I said softly as I approached.

He turned, his expression dark. "It’s hard not to."

I nodded, understanding all too well. "Come on," I said, motioning toward my room. "Let’s talk."

Once inside, I closed the door behind us and leaned against it. Nathan paced the small space, his agitation rolling off him in waves.

"I want to expose them," I said, my voice firm.

Nathan stopped pacing and turned to me, his brow furrowed. "Now?"

I hesitated, the weight of our father’s declining health pressing on me. "No," I admitted, sighing. "It’s not the right time. Not with your Dad so sick. It would only stress him out."

Nathan’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded reluctantly. "You’re right. But it doesn’t make it any easier to watch them parade around like this."

His tone was bitter, and when he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, my heart sank.

"I was going to propose to her tonight," he said, opening the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring. "For her 23rd birthday."

The weight of his words hit me like a punch to the gut. Nathan’s heartbreak was raw and palpable, and it made my own pain feel insignificant in comparison.

"I’m sorry," I said softly, stepping closer. "But maybe this is a sign that she wasn’t meant for you. You deserve someone better, Nathan. Someone who won’t betray you."

He gave me a small, sad smile. "You’re kind, Hannah. Even when you’re hurting, you’re thinking of others."

His gaze lingered on me, and suddenly the air between us shifted. It was subtle at first—a strange, electric tension that made my pulse quicken.

"Nathan…" I started, unsure of what I was feeling.

But before I could finish, there was a sharp knock at the door.

We both froze, and when the door swung open, Dean stood there, his expression dark and unreadable.

"What are you two doing?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

The room fell into a tense silence. My heart pounded as I met Dean’s gaze, his eyes flicking between me and Nathan. I knew that look. He wasn’t just suspicious—he was furious.

And I like to see the jealousy in his eyes.

Dean stood at the doorway, his gaze bouncing between Nathan and me, his jaw set in a tight line.

I arched a brow, amused as I watched his fists clench at his sides. Was he really jealous? That was rich, considering he was the one parading Cecelia around like a trophy.

"Why the hell are you two in here?" Dean finally growled.

Nathan, to his credit, didn't back down. "We were just talking," he said simply, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Dean scoffed. "In a bedroom?"

I let out a short laugh, stepping forward. "Oh? Is it so strange that I'm talking to Nathan in private?" I tilted my head, eyes narrowing. "Because I don't remember you having a problem when you talk to my sister alone."

Dean stiffened. That shut him up.

I saw it—the flicker of guilt in his eyes, the way his lips parted just slightly like he wanted to deny it, but couldn't. Satisfaction curled in my chest like a warm ember. He had no rebuttal.

Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply before changing the subject. "The party starts soon. You two should get ready."

And just like that, he turned on his heel and left.

I smirked at his retreating figure, but beside me, Nathan sighed. "Hannah, you shouldn't provoke him like that," he said in a low voice.

I turned to him, my amusement dimming. "Why not? He deserves to feel just as humiliated as we do."

Nathan rubbed his temple. "Dean isn't just some arrogant Alpha—he's calculating. If you keep poking at him, he'll find a way to turn things against us."

I lifted my chin. "Let him try. I know how he works." I met Nathan’s gaze with determination. "I'm done playing nice, Nathan. He thinks he can walk all over me while flaunting my own sister in front of me? No. He doesn't get to have that satisfaction."

Nathan hesitated, then sighed, nodding. "Just be careful, Hannah."

The grand hall was already packed with guests by the time we descended the stairs. Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the crowd, and the soft hum of conversation filled the space. The scent of expensive perfume and wine lingered in the air, mixing with the delicate aroma of fresh flowers.

I was painfully aware of the plain dress I wore—simple, understated, and nothing like the extravagant gowns the other women flaunted. But I didn't care. If Cecelia expected me to wither under her shadow, she was going to be sorely disappointed.

As if on cue, Cecelia appeared before me, wearing an obnoxiously smug smile. Her red gown shimmered under the light, clinging to her in all the right places.

"Why do you look like a granny?" she asked, voice dripping with mockery. "Honestly, Hannah, you're embarrassing."

I met her gaze, unbothered. "Let's see who's more embarrassing tonight," I said smoothly, smiling.

Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second, but then she flipped her hair and sauntered off.

I exhaled slowly, pushing down the wave of irritation that threatened to surface. Not tonight, Cecelia. You won’t get to me tonight.

The party went on in a blur of chatter and music. I sat at my table, sipping from my glass of wine, while my supposed mate twirled my sister across the ballroom floor. Their laughter rang louder than the music itself, their movements synchronized, effortless.

I ignored the way my stomach twisted.

But the murmurs around me didn’t go unnoticed.

"Isn't she the Alpha’s mate?"

"Why is he dancing with Cecelia like that?"

"Poor thing… he barely acknowledges her."

Pity. It was written all over their faces. And I hated it.

Before I could drown in my own thoughts, Nathan slid into the seat beside me. "Dance with me."

I blinked at him. "What?"

He gestured toward the dance floor. "You heard me. Dance with me."

I let out a breathy laugh. "Nathan, I'm a terrible dancer."

His lips curled into a small smile. "Then I'll teach you."

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to put on some kind of spectacle, but then I caught a glimpse of Dean. He was still dancing with Cecelia, but his gaze was on me now.

And just like that, I decided.

"Okay," I murmured.

Nathan took my hand, leading me to the center of the room. He placed one hand on my waist, the other clasping my fingers.

"Just follow my lead," he whispered.

And I did.

At first, I stumbled—awkward, hesitant. But Nathan was patient, guiding me with gentle movements. Soon, the music carried us, and for the first time that night, I wasn't thinking about Dean.

I was enjoying myself.

But then, I caught sight of Dean again.

His expression was unreadable, but his grip on Cecelia had tightened. His jaw was locked, his eyes burning with something dangerously close to jealousy.

As soon as the dance ended, Dean was there.

"You need to keep your distance from my brother," he said, his voice low enough for only me to hear.

I let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Why? You think you can dictate who I spend my time with?"

His glare deepened. "I am your mate, Hannah."

My amusement turned cold. "Are you?" I tilted my head, my eyes locking onto his. "Because from where I'm standing, it seems like you're more concerned about Cecelia than me."

Dean's lips pressed into a thin line, his face flushing with something dangerously close to shame.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "If I should keep my distance from Nathan, then maybe you should stay away from Cecelia."

His face hardened.

But before Dean could respond, Cecelia’s voice rang out across the hall.

"Everyone, may I have your attention?"

The crowd quieted, all eyes turning toward her.

And in that moment, I knew—whatever she was about to say, it wasn’t going to be good.