Camouflaging My Twin Offspring from the Pack Leader

“If it’s not pregnancy, I’ll divorce him,” Felicia muttered under her breath, her fingers nervously tapping against her thighs as she sat in the crowded hospital reception.

The nurse finally called her name, breaking her from her spiraling thoughts.

Adjusting her coat, she stood, her legs slightly wobbly as she followed the nurse to the doctor’s office.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Blackthorn,” Dr. Lewis greeted her with a warm smile, gesturing for her to sit. Felicia hesitated, her mind racing.

“Good afternoon,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Lewis picked up a cream-colored envelope from his desk and handed it to her. “Congratulations,” he said, his tone genuine.

Felicia blinked, her heart pounding as she tore open the envelope. Her eyes scanned the results, and there it was, in bold letters: Positive.

“You’re pregnant,” Dr. Lewis confirmed. “And it looks like you’re expecting twins.”

The words felt surreal. Her hands trembled as she placed the paper back on the desk.

“Twins?” she repeated, her voice cracking.

“Yes. You’ll need to schedule regular checkups moving forward, but for now, you should celebrate. This is wonderful news.”

A smile spread across Felicia’s face. For a moment, all her worries faded. She was going to be a mother—something she had longed for in her loveless marriage.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she said, standing abruptly. She needed to tell Alpha Damien immediately. He had to know. Maybe this would change everything.

****

Felicia practically ran into the house, her excitement bubbling over. “Damien! I have something to tell you—”

Her words froze in her throat as she stopped in her tracks. There, in the living room, stood a woman sobbing into her husband’s chest.

Damien’s arm was wrapped protectively around her, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back.

And then, Felicia saw it—something that shattered her already fragile heart. Damien leaned down and pressed a kiss to the woman’s lips.

It wasn’t a fleeting kiss of comfort. It was intimate, tender—something he had never done with her.

Her throat tightened, and her hand flew to her chest. The envelope containing her pregnancy results crumpled in her fist.

“Damien,” she called out, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and heartbreak.

He looked up, startled, but his expression quickly shifted to one of indifference.

“Felicia,” he said flatly, his arm still around the woman. “What are you doing here?”

Her lips quivered, but she refused to cry. “I live here. What’s going on?”

The woman in his arms looked up, her red-rimmed eyes meeting Felicia’s. She quickly buried her face back into Damien’s chest.

“Not now, Felicia,” Damien said, his tone dismissive. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Busy?” Felicia echoed, her voice rising. “I can see very well what you’re busy with!”

Damien frowned, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Felicia clenched her fists, her mind reeling. She had endured so much in this marriage—his emotional distance, his coldness, his refusal to even Mark her as his mate. And now this?

She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. “Damien, I need to talk to you.”