After My Alpha Chose Another Luna, I Reclaimed My Music

I sat alone in my quarters, staring at the silver flute in my hands—the last connection to my grandmother, to my past, to who I once was. Three days had passed since the Inter-Pack Gathering, three days of suffocating silence from the pack that had once celebrated my music. No one looked me in the eye anymore. No one spoke to me. It was as if I had become a ghost haunting the halls of the Shadowcrest mansion.

My phone buzzed with a notification. I flinched, then slowly reached for it, hoping against hope it might be Alexander with an explanation, an apology—anything to make sense of how quickly my world had shattered.

Instead, it was a pack-wide announcement through our mind-link system.

*Attention all Shadowcrest members. Training sessions for the next full moon run will begin tomorrow at dawn. All pack members are required to attend.*

*All except Victoria Sterling. For her own safety and the safety of others, she is to remain in her quarters until further notice.*

The message hit me like a physical blow. I pressed my hand against my mouth to stifle a sob. My own safety? What was Alexander implying?

More notifications followed, flooding the pack's communication channels.

*Has anyone noticed Victoria's strange behavior lately?* wrote one of Alexander's loyal Deltas.

*I always thought there was something unstable about her wolf,* added another.

*Such a shame. I heard her inner wolf is rejecting her after the humiliation at the Gathering.*

The lies spread like poison, and I could feel Alexander's influence behind every word. He was systematically destroying my reputation, isolating me from any potential allies. My fingers trembled against the cool metal of my flute as I realized what he was doing—creating a narrative where I was dangerous, unstable, someone to be avoided.

I tried to respond, to defend myself, but found my access to the pack's mind-link had been restricted. The silence in my head where the connection should have been felt like another wound, raw and bleeding.

A sharp knock at my door made me jump. I hastily wiped away my tears and tucked my flute into its case.

"Come in," I called, surprised at how steady my voice sounded despite the chaos inside me.

A stone-faced Delta entered—one of Alexander's personal guards. "Alpha Blackwood requests your presence in the grand hall. Immediately."

My heart lurched painfully in my chest. "Did he say why?"

"It is not my place to question the Alpha's orders," the guard replied coldly. "Only to ensure they are followed."

I nodded, rising on shaky legs. My grandmother's flute felt heavy in my hands, but I couldn't bear to leave it behind. It was my talisman, my strength.

The walk to the grand hall felt like marching to an execution. Pack members we passed in the corridor averted their eyes or whispered behind their hands. The rumors had clearly taken root.

Alexander stood alone in the center of the grand hall, his back to me as I entered. The massive room with its vaulted ceilings had once been where I performed for special pack celebrations. Now it felt like an arena.

"You wanted to see me," I said quietly, stopping several feet behind him.

He turned slowly, and the cold detachment in his eyes made my wolf whimper. This was not the man who had once looked at me with desire, with something I'd foolishly mistaken for love.

"Victoria," he said, my name sounding foreign on his lips. "I see you still carry that flute everywhere. Like a child with a security blanket."

I clutched the instrument tighter. "It's my grandmother's. You know what it means to me."

"What I know," he said, taking a step closer, "is that you've become a liability to this pack."

"Alexander, please," I whispered. "What happened? What did I do?"

"The Moon Goddess made her choice clear," he said flatly. "Madison is my true mate. You were... a placeholder."

The casual cruelty of his words stole my breath. "Three years," I managed. "Three years of my life, and I was just a placeholder?"

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. "Watch your tone. You may no longer be my chosen mate, but I am still your Alpha."

"And what about my position in the pack? My music?"

A smile curved his lips, but it never reached his eyes. "Your music," he echoed. "That's the problem, isn't it? Your so-called gift."

He moved so fast I barely saw him. One moment he was several feet away, the next he was directly in front of me, his hand gripping my wrist painfully.

"Shift," he commanded, his Alpha tone crashing into me like a physical force.

"What? No—" I tried to resist, but his power was overwhelming.

"I said SHIFT!" he roared, and I felt my body begin to change against my will.

Panic flooded me as my bones started to crack and reshape. An Alpha-forced shift was dangerous, painful—and I was still clutching my flute. "Alexander, stop! Let me put my flute down first!"

But his eyes were merciless as he maintained the command, watching with cold satisfaction as my fingers began to elongate into claws, still wrapped around the delicate instrument.

"Alexander, please!" I begged, feeling the metal bending in my involuntarily tightening grip.

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "A wolf with no pack, no mate, and no music is nothing at all."

Then he pressed his hand against mine and squeezed.