The Alpha Who Never Loved Me (Serena and Kieran) novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Serena’s pov

The red lace itched against my skin.

I shifted on the bed, adjusting the lingerie I'd spent three hours picking out at the boutique downtown. The saleswoman had called it "marriage-saving material," and I'd laughed, swiping my card without hesitation. Kieran and I didn't need saving, we just needed a spark to repair the distance that had crept between us these past few months.

The candles flickered on the nightstand. I'd cooked his favorite meal, rare venison with rosemary, the way his mother used to make it before she passed. There was wine and tucked in the drawer beside me was a collection of toys I'd never had the courage to buy before.

My wolf, Aina, paced restlessly. She has been anxious all week.

He'll be home soon, I told her. He promised.

But eight o'clock came and went. Nine and ten.

I checked my phone again. There were no messages or calls from him, just the same text I'd sent hours ago, still showing as "read" with no reply.

Happy anniversary, Kieran. I have a surprise for you. Come home early?

The venison had gone cold, the candles had burned down to stubs and my wolf had stopped pacing, curling into a tight ball of dread in my chest.

With nothing to do, I went searching. I opened my Instagram and typed his name into the search bar.

His account was set to private. It had always been private, Kieran valued his image as Alpha, so he controlled every aspect of his public presence. But tonight, someone had tagged him in a post.

@Sophielove: The most magical birthday! Thank you for making my son's dreams come true. 

My thumb hovered over the screen. Don't click it. Don't—

I clicked.

The first photo showed a well lit amusement park. The second showed fireworks exploding over a carousel and the third—

My breath stopped.

Kieran stood in a kitchen, flour dusted across his black shirt, laughing as a little boy with dark curls held up a mixing bowl. A woman stood beside them, her hand resting on Kieran's arm.

They were making a birthday cake together like a family.

The caption read: My two favorite boys. Five years old and already ruling the world. 

Five years old.

We'd been married for five.

My phone slipped from my fingers, clattering against the hardwood floor. The sound echoed through the empty bedroom, through the empty house I'd spent years turning into a home.

No. No, this couldn't be right. Kieran was difficult, yes. Distant, often. But he wasn't a cheater. He wasn't the kind of man who would—

Call him, my wolf urged, There has to be an explanation.

I picked up my phone with trembling hands and dialed his number.

"Hello?"

The voice that answered wasn't his.

It was soft, feminine and a little breathless, like she'd been laughing.

"Hello?" she said again. "Kieran, I think someone's calling you—oh, he just stepped out with Ethan. They're doing the sparklers. Can I take a message?"

In the background, I heard a child's voice, "Daddy, look! Look what I can do!"

Daddy.

I froze.

"Hello? Are you still there?"

I couldn't speak. The call ended, I didn't know if I hung up or if she did.

It didn't matter.

I walked downstairs like a ghost, the dining room looked absurd now, the crystal glasses, the cloth napkins folded into swans, the flowers I'd arranged just so. I picked up the platter of venison and dumped it into the trash. Everything else followed.

Then I stood in the middle of the living room and looked at what I'd built.

The curtains were sage green because Kieran once mentioned his childhood home had green curtains. The ferns by the window were his favorite, even though I had to mist them twice daily to keep them alive. The walls held framed illustrations of wolf packs running through forests, anniversary gifts I'd commissioned from artists he admired.

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