A Broken Kitten Figurine, A Broken Unborn Pup Chapter 09

A Broken Kitten Figurine, A Broken Unborn Pup Chapter 09

I spun around.

Blake was standing directly behind my chair.

His sharp eyes swept across the huddle before locking entirely onto me. “Are today’s territory archives fully organized?”

I bit my inner cheek. “Not yet…”

He reached down, casually picking up the folders on my desk and flipping through them. “Then it seems your workload is far too light if it leaves you with ample time to wager on the personal lives of your Alpha and Former Luna.”

“You will not leave the Administration Office until midnight tonight,” he commanded, dropping the files back down. “Consider it a lesson in discipline. Do you have any objections, Tessa?”

Tina stepped forward hesitantly. “Alpha Blake, I was the one who dragged Tessa into—”

“I am speaking to her,” Blake cut her off sharply, his eyes drilling into mine.

I lowered my head, my voice even. “No objections.”

Through my peripheral vision, I could feel his gaze burning into me for a long, agonizing beat.

Finally, he slammed the files onto the desk with excessive force. “Excellent.”

The word sounded as though it had been ripped from his throat before he turned and stormed down the corridor.

In that fleeting second, my eyes caught a flash of silver on his ring finger.

His wedding band.

When we completed our private mate contract, we had each prepared a ring.

His had been selected by his Beta, Jack—a massive, flawless, incredibly expensive diamond.

Mine was a simple silver band I had saved three months of my own salary to buy. It had no stones, but featured a unique engraving of two wolves’ shadows intertwining.

Because our relationship was hidden, he had almost never worn it.

Now, with his reconciliation with Wendy seemingly set in stone, he had suddenly put it on.

I found the gesture entirely incomprehensible.

The moment his footsteps faded, the office erupted into furious whispers.

“No wonder Alpha Blake was furious—he’s actually wearing a wedding ring!”

“Does he really have a secret Luna?”

“No way. The Stagford Pack hosts dozens of ceremonies and inter-pack galas every year, and he’s never brought a mate. Plus, he’s been rumored with Ms. Turner for ages and never denied it. They even vacationed together.”

“Exactly,” another agreed. “Ms. Turner still handles all the Luna duties. It’d be bizarre to let an ex run the pack if a real Luna existed.”

“It’s like he has two mates.” a third chimed in.

The first girl shuddered. “If that were me, I’d never tolerate it.”

Finally, they reached a unanimous conclusion: “If a secret Luna really exists, Alpha Blake must absolutely despise her.”

I kept my eyes glued to my desk, offering no defense.

Over the next few days, Blake seemed completely swallowed by pack business.

He took to sleeping directly in the Alpha quarters adjacent to the administrative halls.

Lacking any opportunity to discuss the asset distribution details of our dissolution contract, I took matters into my own hands and hired an Elder

Council lawyer to draft the initial paperwork.

By mid-week, my assigned northern supply archives were finally completed.

To celebrate, I ordered a catering delivery of pastries to the department breakroom as an afternoon treat.

By the time I walked in to grab a piece, the trays were already picked clean.

A clerk looked up, wiping her mouth. “The Alpha Heir was just hovering around. There was one portion of peanut-butter cheesecake left, so I gave it to her.”

Panic seized my chest, and I stood up so fast my chair rattled. “Did she eat it?”

“Yeah, she finished the whole thing.”

When I finally located Zoe in the outer courtyard, angry red hives were already blooming across her neck and small arms.

She was frantically scratching at her skin, but I lunged forward, catching her tiny wrists. “Stop scratching, Zoe. If you break the skin, it will get infected.”

Seeing me, she went rigid with discomfort, giving a tiny, submissive whine.

Blake and Wendy were currently locked in an emergency Alpha Council meeting.

Without a shred of hesitation, I scooped her up and rushed toward the Pack Hospital.

While waiting for the elevator, I looked down at her small, flushed face. “Zoe, you know exactly how severe your peanut allergy is. Why would you eat that?”

She bit her lip, refusing to speak a word until we were inside the back of a cab.

The little girl pressed her face against the window glass, her back completely turned to me as she whispered, “Because the clerk said you bought it for us.”

“You used to bake treats for me at home,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “Every time I ate them, you looked so happy. I thought… if I ate it, you wouldn’t hate me so much anymore.”