Page 10 of Abandoned By My Alpha Husband

"In the nursery on the second floor. We just ran basic blood work—" She paused, voice dropping. "Not a pure blood. Tests showed werewolf genes, but the concentration's too low. Most likely a hybrid."

Hybrid. So the girl was human. That realization twisted something sharp in my chest—she was human; I was a werewolf Alpha. Half-blood conception rates were almost impossible unless—

She was my fated mate.

My wolf rolled violently inside me.

"Let me see the child." My voice came out tight, heart pounding. That was my child. Mine and hers.

They clearly hadn't expected that request. The one on the left opened her mouth. "Your Majesty, according to regulations, anonymous foundling records are confidential—"

"I said." My voice went cold. "Let me see the child."

The second-floor nursery felt warm. Sunlight streamed through the east-facing window. A light blue cotton sheet lined the crib. The small bundle lay right in the center. The only sound was my own carefully lightened footsteps as I walked in.

I stood beside the crib and looked down at him.

So small. All wrinkled, skin still flushed with that newborn red. His baby hair was light brown, plastered to his forehead. Eyes closed, sleeping soundly. Thin lips. A faint curve to his jawline. Though he hadn't grown into it yet, I could see it—that line belonging to a Hale Alpha.

Then he moved. His little hand emerged from the edge of the blanket. Clenched unconsciously.

The blood bond hit every sense like a red-hot iron. I froze completely.

My wolf let out a low growl inside me, shaking my ribcage. No blood test needed. No DNA comparison. My genes were already screaming—this was my pup. That woman's child. She'd gotten pregnant that night. Then given birth alone. Then left him here.

All by herself.

I stood in the nursery, sunlight warm on my shoulders—almost painfully bright. But my mind kept replaying one image. A young woman, somewhere in this city, in a corner no one knew about, enduring hours of labor pain alone to deliver this child, then dragging her weakened body to hand him over to strangers. I didn't blame her. A human woman giving birth to a half-blood child would be in terrible danger. I only blamed myself for not finding her in time. For not protecting her and our child.

She hadn't even given me her name.

That woman at the front desk saying "she was crying really hard" stuck in my ear like a needle I couldn't pull out.

"This child," I spoke, voice hoarse enough that even I could hear something was wrong. "I'm adopting him."

The two women exchanged looks again. The one on the right spoke carefully. "Are you... are you sure? Your Majesty, this child is a hybrid. Given your family—" Silver pine was obsessed with bloodlines. The class divide between wolves and humans was unhealthy—I'd always wanted to change it. But the Elder Council kept blocking me, going on about "tradition."

If they found out I'd adopted a hybrid, they'd refuse. But that would be easier to deal with than them knowing he was my biological son. They'd find ways to kill this stain on Hale blood. Besides, I wasn't about to let my own son get passed around and raised as a slave by those noble wolves.

"I'm adopting him," I repeated, looking down at the little thing in the crib, fist clenched tight. "Process the paperwork today."

They didn't ask again.

Then I went to see the commander. Man in his forties. Nervous as hell the second he saw me. I sat in his chair and asked coldly what he thought about the recent Butcher Squad cases.

He pulled out the files. At least they were organized clearly. I flipped through page by page. The Butcher Squad had appeared a few years ago out of nowhere. Their mission: kill all pure blood wolves. I'd assumed they were a human organization, until they started torturing humans—even half-bloods. That's when I realized they were just venting malice.

One of the consequences of the human-wolf class system.

The commander stuttered through what little intelligence they had. For instance, the Butcher Squad mainly targeted pure bloods—nobles, in other words. Not long ago, there was an incident at Maple Hotel. My brow furrowed. Maple—the same hotel where I'd been drugged.

"I understand the recent panic," the commander said, wringing his hands ingratiatingly. "I'll definitely maintain order."

Those noble wolves had been discussing the Butcher Squad nonstop lately. They were used to being arrogant. Never imagined humans would kill them. Torture them.

I told the commander to strengthen defenses and patrols. Even the human district couldn't be overlooked. Plenty of wolves lived there too. And I locked down Reserpine's border regions as much as possible to keep them from escaping. If they caused panic in other kingdoms, Silver pine would be held accountable. Other wolf packs might even use "eliminating the enemy" as an excuse to invade.

When I left the Guard Station, Marcus was waiting by the car. He glanced at the bundle in my arms. His gaze paused for a second. Then he asked nothing. Just opened the back door.