Blood Stained: The Sun Kissed Alpha

Theon stood in the grand hall of the Quintin mansion, feeling the weight of every eye on him as his father's voice rang out, cold and unyielding.

"Aren't you ashamed, Theon?" His father's voice echoed off the marble walls, sharp and unforgiving. "How can an alpha—my son—carry a child?" He paused, eyes narrowing, the disgust in his voice was unmistakable. "Alphas are meant to impregnate, not to be impregnated. Do you realize what you've done to our family's name?"

Theon's lips parted as he struggled to respond, to explain, but his words caught in his throat. He could feel his mother's gaze from across the room—cold, silent. She wasn't even looking at him, her eyes fixed on the floor as if she couldn't bear the sight of him.

"Father, I…" Theon's voice faltered. He forced himself to take a deep breath, to keep his shoulders back, to show some semblance of strength even as his heart pounded in his chest. "This doesn't change who I am. I'm still your son. I'm still—"

"Enough." His father's tone was final, a command that struck Theon like a physical blow. "You are not my son. No son of mine would bring such disgrace upon this family. The Quintins have a reputation to uphold, and you—you have tarnished it beyond repair."

"Father, please," Theon choked out, desperation creeping into his voice despite himself. "I didn't choose this—"

"Didn't choose this?" His father laughed bitterly, a sound that felt like ice against Theon's skin. "You chose to keep it, didn't you? You chose to betray everything this family stands for. You've made your bed, Theon, and now you will lie on it— and far away from here."

Theon felt a hand grip his arm, his younger brother, Dane, standing beside him, expression hard but conflicted. "Big brother, please…just leave quietly. Don't make this any harder."

"Leave?" Theon repeated, the word feeling foreign and raw on his tongue. He turned to his mother, who was standing to the side, her hands trembling slightly as she wrung them together. "Mother…are you going to say nothing? Are you just going to let him throw me out?"

She finally looked up, her eyes distant and filled with a sadness he couldn't bear. "Theon," she said softly, barely above a whisper. "You've always been a strong boy. I know you'll survive." Her voice broke slightly, but she turned away, leaving him feeling emptier than he ever had.

His father stepped forward, towering over him. "From this moment on, you are no longer a member of this family. You will take nothing with you, not our name, not our reputation. As far as we are concerned, you no longer exist."

The finality of those words hung heavy in the air, sealing his fate.

"You are dead to us," his father finished, his voice cold and unrelenting. "Now go."

Theon's fists clenched at his sides as he forced himself to hold his father's gaze, swallowing back the anguish that clawed at his throat. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many emotions he wanted to unleash, but he knew it wouldn't change anything. They had already made their choice.

Without another word, Theon turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing through the silent hall. As he reached the door, he paused, glancing back one last time at the family he'd once loved so deeply, the family that had now cast him aside.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Thank you for showing me what I truly meant to you."

With that, he stepped out into the cold night air, feeling the weight of their rejection settle over him like a suffocating shroud. He pressed a hand to his abdomen, feeling the faint stir of life within him—a life they would never accept.

And in that moment, he made a vow to himself. No matter how broken he felt now, no matter how much it hurt, he would rise above this. He would rebuild his life, for himself and for the child he carried.

Even if it meant doing it alone.

Three months later…

Theon had tried to keep it together. He had tried to rebuild his life from the wreckage his family had left him in, and for a while, he had even convinced himself that he was fine. He had thrown himself into work, into creating something for himself that no one could take away.

But now, lying in this sterile hospital room, with nothing but the cold, clinical buzz of the machines surrounding him, he realized how empty he truly was.

Theon sat on the edge of the hospital bed, the doctor's words echoing endlessly in his mind.

"The baby… didn't make it."

It took a moment for the words to sink in. But once they did, his entire world crumbled. His hand went to his abdomen instinctively, his fingertips pressing down as if somehow, he could still feel his child there. But there was nothing. Just a hollow emptiness that seemed to swallow him whole.

The silence was shattered as Theon let out a scream—a raw, guttural cry so filled with agony that the entire ward fell silent. Nurses froze in the hallway, doctors paused mid-sentence, and even patients in nearby rooms couldn't help but feel the tremors of his despair.

"Why! Why! Please…" he sobbed, the words spilling out uncontrollably as he clutched his stomach, doubling over in anguish. His cries tore through the walls, reaching every corner of the floor as if his pain were searching desperately for an escape. Theon's body shook violently, his fingers curling into the bedsheets, knuckles white as he tried to hold himself together, but he was breaking—shattering into pieces that he could never put back together.

The nurses outside exchanged helpless glances, unsure whether to enter, unsure whether any words could comfort him. One nurse, usually composed, brought her hand to her mouth, her own eyes welling up as she listened. She had seen many forms of grief in her time here, but nothing like this—nothing so raw and so devastating.

A doctor passing by stopped in his tracks, gripping his clipboard tightly as Theon's cries continued. It wasn't just sadness. It was a grief so consuming, so fierce, it reached beyond him, touching everyone who heard it, shaking them to their core.

Inside the room, Theon's voice was hoarse, nearly a whisper now, as he kept pleading with no one in particular. "Please… please, just give them back. I can't… I can't do this without them… I can't…"

He pressed his face into his hands, his fingers digging into his scalp as sobs wracked his body, his breaths coming in short, painful gasps. The pain in his heart felt unbearable, an ache so deep he feared it might destroy him.

"N-no… I was supposed to protect you… I promised… I promised…" His voice broke, and he looked up, his tear-streaked face twisted in grief, his red-rimmed eyes unfocused as he stared into the distance, barely aware of the room around him.

The nurse who finally entered the room had to steady herself, her own hands trembling as she approached. "Mr. Quintin," she whispered gently, but her voice wavered, thick with emotion. She wanted to comfort him, to say something that would ease the unbearable weight pressing down on him, but the words wouldn't come.

Theon didn't even seem to hear her. His hands were pressed against his chest now, as though trying to keep his heart from breaking apart. He rocked back and forth, his body convulsing with each fresh wave of grief.

In the hall, a young patient stopped, unable to keep walking. "What happened to him?" he whispered, feeling a deep, unfamiliar sadness settle in his chest.

"Life happened," the nurse replied, barely managing to hold back her own tears. "And life can be cruel."

Back in the room, Theon's voice had quieted to a choked whisper, his cries no longer loud but haunting, piercing through the silence like a knife. "I'm sorry," he whimpered, barely able to breathe between the words. "I'm so… so sorry… I didn't protect you. I didn't…"

He collapsed forward, his forehead pressing against his trembling hands, his whole body spent from the agony coursing through him. Theon's cries filled the room once more, each sob a testament to his broken heart, a sound so powerful it seemed to etch itself into the walls, to linger long after he was gone.