Future Alpha Lost Me to His Father

Nine years, I cooked his meals, read him through sleepless nights, and swallowed every kick, curse, and humiliation. On his Awakening Day, he chose a noble bride and left me to freeze in the blizzard. I didn’t beg. I crawled into the bed of his father—the ice-cold Alpha King no woman had touched in fifteen years. Now I wear his crown as Queen stepmother, while the prince rots into a walking skeleton, screaming for one last bite of my moonberry pie. If I could never be his mate, I would become his mother.