A Wedding Without You, Alpha

Alice’s POV

When I opened the door, moonlight spilled across the porch, catching the delicate crystal in Tessa’s hands and making it gleam like frozen starlight.

It was stunning—almost unbearably beautiful.

The award shimmered as though it had trapped the moon itself, carved into the elegant silhouette of a hawthorn tree. Its branches appeared to sway faintly under the gentle glow, and at the base, my name was etched with flawless precision. The faint magic sealed into the crystal flickered softly like distant stars. I knew exactly how much it had cost the pack to commission something of this caliber.

And yet… not a single word of congratulations crossed Tessa’s lips.

She stood there, biting her lower lip, her usual wide-eyed innocence betraying vulnerability, as though climbing the porch steps had exhausted her. The picture of delicacy, fragile and perfect.

“Alli,” she said quietly, almost hesitant, “Alpha Kael asked me to deliver this. You… you’re incredible. To earn something so rare and beautiful.”

Her eyes flickered to the crystal as if it were already hers, then returned to mine, feigning a modest shyness.

“I…” she faltered, shifting from foot to foot, clutching the award closer to her chest. “I have a tiny favor. I’ve never seen anything like this before, and you know how much I… love beautiful things. Could I… maybe borrow it for a few days? Just to keep me motivated? I mean…” Her laugh was weak, forced. “…maybe someday I could even become Alpha Kael’s strategist in your place?”

She looked up at me through her lashes, hopeful. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but… please. Just think about it? I really want to feel inspired.”

For a heartbeat, I didn’t know how to respond. The audacity of her words left me momentarily speechless.

Then a faint smile curved my lips—not kind, not warm, but cold and cutting. “You do realize how bold that is, don’t you?” I said, voice low and sharp. “Don’t ask. If you want one, earn it on your own.” My gaze swept over her small frame, trembling hands clutching the crystal. “But let’s be honest—you don’t have my skill, do you?”

Her face flushed instantly, pale skin blooming into pink embarrassment, yet she didn’t release the crystal. Instead, she tightened her grip, whispering, “Why are you saying that like it’s wrong? I wasn’t going to keep it forever… just for a few days. Are you really so selfish you won’t even lend it to me? Am I asking too much?”

I said nothing. My hand extended just enough to convey my intent.

Give it back.

But she refused. Her fingers clung to the award, lip trembling.

I tightened my grip on the base of the hawthorn tree, pulling it toward me.

“Hand it over!” I snapped, frustration flaring.

“Why can’t you just lend it?!” she protested, desperation in her voice.

The fragile crystal wobbled, slipped between our hands, and time seemed to pause. It spun once, twice—and shattered against the hardwood floor.

Fragments scattered like fallen stars, moonlight caught in jagged edges before fading to dull glass.

Tessa gasped sharply, dropping to her knees, hands clutching at her shin as though the shards had wounded her.

The gate slammed open.

Rylan and Weston entered, the scent of wolf fur and the crisp night air clinging to them.

The instant their eyes found Tessa—kneeling, blood staining her pale leg, broken crystal littering the floor—they surged forward.

“Tessa!” they shouted together, collapsing to her side.

Rylan’s hands shook as he lifted her skirt to examine the cut, jaw tightening at the sight of the shallow wound.

“You’re bleeding,” he murmured, voice taut with concern. “We need to get you patched up immediately.”

“No, I—” she started weakly, but Rylan scooped her into his arms anyway, eyes dark with worry.

Weston stayed just long enough to spin on me, fury radiating from him like heat.

“Alli,” he growled, fangs gleaming, “you have everything already! Why do you have to hurt her too?!”

I froze for a heartbeat before letting a bitter laugh escape.

“That was mine,” I said, voice cold and precise. “I earned it, worked for years to get it. My name is on it. She held it, and now it’s shattered—and you think I’m at fault?”

I jabbed a finger toward the broken shards, each glinting in the moonlight. “She owes me an apology.”

But Weston’s fury only intensified.

“It’s just a statue!” he shouted. “You can win or buy a hundred more! How does that compare to her getting hurt?!”

He jabbed a finger at me, wolf barely restrained beneath the surface of his skin.

“You need to apologize to her!”

Without waiting for a word, he shifted—his dark gray wolf tearing free of human form—and bolted out, racing to join Rylan and Tessa.

The house sank into silence again. I stayed motionless, staring at the glimmering shards at my feet. Weston’s voice lingered in my mind: I should apologize.

A bitter, dry laugh slipped past my lips.

Then the pain hit me.

Looking down, I saw a deep gash along my own shin, blood spilling freely past my ankle—worse than Tessa’s cut.

I bit my lip, swallowed the sting, crouched, and began picking up the shards one by one.

No one offered a hand. No one even noticed.

When I finished, I cleaned the wound, wrapped it carefully, and sank onto the couch, silent.

Later that night, my phone buzzed.

It was my mother, her inbox flooded with dozens of pictures of wedding rings.

“Choose whichever you like, my sweet moonflower,” she wrote.

I scrolled through them absently, then called her. Her warm voice greeted me, though after a moment, she hesitated.

“Alice,” she said softly, “is everything alright? You sound… tired.”

I blinked against the tears threatening to fall.

“I’m fine,” I lied, voice calm and even. “I’ll be done here in four days. How’s the wedding planning going?”

The words felt strange leaving my mouth, but I said them anyway.

I didn’t notice them arrive—but I heard the front door click a moment later. Rylan and Weston’s scents hit me: wild, unmistakable, familiar.

They froze as my last words lingered in the air.

From the corner of my eye, I saw their expressions harden. Eyes narrowed, claws ready, each glance snapping toward me and then toward the other.

They spoke at once, low and dangerous:

“Wedding? What wedding?”