No Mark, No Bond, No More Chapter 01
I was two months pregnant when my Alpha mate demanded I donate blood to his childhood friend.
Selene Vale was rushed into the Blackwood Pack’s clinic, throwing the entire medical wing into chaos.
As the late Beta’s daughter, Selene’s father had died defending the previous Alpha during a border war, leaving the whole pack bound by an unspoken life debt to her.
Due to that unpaid obligation, Dorian’s Beta, Gamma, and every patrol wolf always prioritized her over me without a second thought.
She’d lost critical volumes of blood and needed a she-wolf with a matching blood type—and out of everyone on the surgical floor, only I was a viable donor.
But I already struggled with chronic anemia, and I was carrying Dorian Blackwood’s unborn pup.
Officially listed as his Luna in the pack registry, I’d lived in the Alpha’s estate for three years, yet Dorian had never fully marked me.
He kept putting off our formal marking ceremony: after the winter hunt wrapped up, once spring patrols stabilized, once Selene recovered fully.
Time and again, I’d waited for a bond that never came.
My eyes burned with unshed tears as I refused the transfusion.
Dorian’s Beta, Gamma, and his lifelong patrol brothers blocked the operating room doorway, staring me down with frigid disdain.
“Luna, Selene’s lying unconscious on the operating table,” one snapped.
“You’re the only wolf here with compatible blood.”
“It’s just a small blood draw—how can you put your personal comfort above the pack’s needs?”
I instinctively curled an arm over my stomach and stumbled back a step.
“I’m pregnant,” I told them. “The healer warned me any blood loss puts my pup at risk.”
No one bothered to listen.
Beta Gavin’s brow creased like I was throwing an unreasonable tantrum.
“Don’t exaggerate the situation, Luna. Selene got injured protecting this pack. A Luna bears hardship for her people. If you refuse such a modest sacrifice, did the Moon Goddess pick the wrong wolf to stand beside our Alpha?”
Before I could reply, two of the men seized my arms and dragged me bodily into the transfusion room.
I twisted toward Dorian, standing at the end of the hall cloaked in heavy Alpha aura, his handsome jaw locked tight.
For a split second, faint remorse flickered across his face—but he hardened his resolve and spoke flatly. “It’s only a little blood, Aria. Our pup will be fine.”
I stopped fighting right then.
A cold needle pierced my vein, and crimson blood slowly drained into the collection bag.
Tears slipped down my cheeks as I lay helpless on the exam table.
Moon Goddess, if this child would never know his father’s protection, let him be spared any more suffering before he’s born.
Once the transfusion finished, I staggered to the clinic’s Luna recovery ward, my body trembling from exhaustion.
The pack healer’s face fell when he saw my ashen complexion and broke the news gently: I’d lost the pup.
I signed the medical release form authorizing termination of the non-viable pregnancy.
……
I spent three nights alone in the clinic after the procedure.
Not once did Dorian check in on me—every waking moment was spent camped beside Selene’s hospital bed. He never wondered why I hadn’t returned to the Alpha estate, never asked after my health.
The empty space in my womb ached, but the agony rooted in my chest hurt far worse.
I ran into Dorian and Selene in the clinic hallway on my discharge day, surrounded by their usual crew of pack wolves.
I clutched my backpack alone while Dorian personally supported Selene’s unsteady steps, his coat draped over her frail shoulders like a precious shroud.
Dorian blinked in surprise when our gazes collided. “Why are you still at the clinic?”
“I’m fine,” I said, keeping my miscarriage hidden and moving to leave.
“Ride back with us,” he ordered, grabbing my wrist.
When we reached his truck, Selene slipped into the front passenger seat first, big dewy eyes wide with manufactured innocence.
“Aria, I’m still recovering from surgery and get terrible car sickness. Could you give me this seat?”
I said nothing and reached for the rear door instead.
Three of Dorian’s patrol brothers piled into the backseat instantly, filling every available inch of space and fixing me with hostile glares.
“Selene’s still fragile, Luna. We need to ride back and care for her at the Alpha house.”
I glanced at Dorian in the driver’s seat; his features stayed rigid, no word of protest passing his lips.
A hollow, bitter laugh escaped me as summer cicadas screamed shrilly outside the window.
What had I ever seen in this man to make me hold onto hope?
