Abandoned by My Alpha, Reclaimed by My Power

I woke before the first light brushed the treetops.

Before the ravens began their harsh cries. Before the wolves in the outer dens stirred from sleep.

No mindlink call summoned me. No pack howl demanded my presence.

Just instinct.

The instinct of a woman who had spent decades rising before everyone else, serving a family that had long since forgotten she was once their Luna.

No tears came.

No ache twisted in my chest.

Only breath.

In. Out. Empty.

I washed my face with cold water from the basin, tied my hair into a low knot, and rubbed a small amount of balm over my cracked lips. Nothing elaborate. Nothing beautiful.

Just enough to look presentable.

Enough to endure another day.

When I bent to retrieve the cleaning cloth beneath the bed, my hand brushed against something hidden beneath the wooden frame.

The red satchel.

I pulled it out slowly.

The leather was worn from years of secrecy.

Inside were the things I had hidden away from the pack: small silver coins earned from trading pastries with nearby villages, a moonstone ring from my maiden pack, and a faded photograph taken when I was eighteen—before I became Scott’s mate.

Before the erosion began.

In that photo, my smile was fearless.

My eyes were bright.

My shoulders carried the confidence of a young she-wolf who believed love meant partnership.

I closed the satchel and carried it downstairs like a quiet promise.

The kitchen was dark and cold.

I lit the hearth and began preparing breakfast for the pack.

Eggs cracked into the pan. Bread sliced. Meat placed over the fire.

The movements came automatically—seasoning, stirring, flipping—like some ritual I had repeated for half my life.

I fed the pack before I ever fed myself.

The kettle was just beginning to whistle when I heard them.

Bare feet against the wooden floor upstairs.

A soft laugh.

Then another.

Low. Satisfied.

They entered the kitchen moments later.

Liora walked in first, wrapped loosely in one of Scott’s tunics. The fabric hung open at the collar, revealing bare legs and tangled hair that still carried the scent of him.

Scott followed beside her, freshly washed and relaxed, as if the night had purified him.

“Coffee, Evelyn,” Liora said lazily, leaning against the counter like she had lived there all her life. “Mine with cream. His strong.”

I handed them the mugs without speaking.

Scott didn’t even glance at me.

He drank and then said flatly, “Make bacon and omelets. Lizzy likes them cooked properly. None of that over-salted nonsense you used to make.”

Liora smirked.

“She’s careful about my figure,” Scott added with a chuckle. “Though I don’t think it matters much.”

Liora tilted her head, smiling sweetly.

“Well, not everyone wants to look like a dried twig.”

I smiled politely.

Not because it amused me.

Because survival sometimes required smiling.

I cracked the eggs into the pan and listened to the oil hiss.

They talked freely behind me.

About the Luciana Den gathering.

About the luxurious guest chambers.

About the soft sheets and the wine.

Their laughter filled the room while I cooked for them like a servant.

Then the front door burst open.

“Everyone’s here!” Kael’s booming voice echoed through the den. “Let the celebration continue!”

Lyra followed him inside, excitement glowing on her face.

“Mom, look!” she squealed, holding up a beautiful leather bag. “Liora gifted this to me last night! Can you believe it?”

She twirled happily.

“And these earrings too! She’s so generous.”

Behind them, the twins burst in like a storm.

Fenrir wore dark glasses despite the dim morning light. Orion carried something enormous wrapped in parchment.

Lyra laughed brightly.

“Liora gave us the entire penthouse suite at the Luciana Den. We slept like royalty!”

“And the bathing room,” Kael added while pouring wine into a goblet. “Huge marble basin. You could swim in it.”

It was barely morning.

Orion and Fenrir tore away the parchment covering their surprise.

A giant portrait emerged.

The image showed the family gathered at the Luciana Den feast.

Liora stood proudly in the center.

Scott’s arm rested around her waist.

My sons stood beside her.

The twins were in front, smiling brightly.

I wasn’t there.

“Look, Grandma,” Orion said with a smug grin. “Don’t we look like a real family?”

Fenrir shrugged.

“Too bad you weren’t invited. You looked more like the house servant anyway.”

Laughter erupted around the room.

Scott chuckled.

Lyra nearly doubled over.

Liora sipped her coffee calmly.

“Don’t worry, Evelyn,” she said sweetly. “I’ll leave some of my dresses in your wardrobe. Perhaps some perfume too.”

Her eyes glimmered with cruelty.

“They’ll be tight, but I’m sure you’ll manage.”

Scott studied the portrait with satisfaction.

“Dress a corpse in silk,” he muttered, “and it’s still a corpse.”

“Disappointment still clings to her scent.”

More laughter.

Orion and Fenrir slapped each other’s hands triumphantly.

And me?

I gathered their empty plates.

One by one.

I washed them quietly while staring through the window at the blooming lemon tree outside.

They believed this humiliation was the end of me.

They had no idea what happens when a Luna finally stops begging to belong.

---

That night, when the pack finally quieted and the laughter faded into drunken sleep, I returned to the main hall.

The portrait hung above the hearth.

Large.

Impossible to ignore.

Kael had positioned it perfectly so every visitor would admire it.

A flawless family.

A perfect pack.

A lie.

I hadn’t heard Scott enter behind me.

“Jealous again?” he said with bored contempt. “You stare at that portrait like it’s supposed to give you meaning.”

I didn’t answer.

He scoffed.

“If I could turn back time, Evelyn, I would have left you in your provincial pack.”

His voice hardened.

“I should have taken Liora as my Luna from the beginning. She’s superior in every way.”

He stepped closer.

“Class. Intelligence. Knows how to run a pack.”

Then he kicked me.

Hard.

Pain exploded through my knee and I collapsed onto the stone floor.

The cold surface pressed against my palms.

Familiar.

Almost comforting.

Tears slid down my face without permission.

Not from the pain.

But from the sound of his footsteps leaving me behind again.

“Enough dramatics,” he muttered.

“You’re too old for them.”

He walked away.

Moments later I heard his voice through the faint pack mindlink.

His tone changed completely.

Warm.

Playful.

“Hey, love,” he murmured to Liora through their private link. “Already missing you.”

I wiped my face slowly.

His voice carried excitement I had not heard in years.

“I’m packing now. Soon we’ll be sailing again. Just you and me beneath the moon.”

He laughed softly.

“This voyage is going to be unforgettable.”