After My Alpha Chose His Mistress Over Me

The scent of lavender and expensive champagne hit me the moment I stepped through the heavy oak doors of the Silver Moon Pack house. Streamers in obnoxiously bright pink draped from the chandeliers, and servants scurried back and forth carrying trays of hors d'oeuvres. It was chaos. It was loud. It was exactly the kind of spectacle Jonas hated—unless, of course, it was for Lacey.

I set my suitcase down by the stairs, my shoulders aching from the three-hour drive back from the border negotiations. As the Luna, I had spent the last week smoothing over trade agreements with the neighboring pack, a job Jonas found “too tedious” for an Alpha. I expected a greeting, perhaps a nod of acknowledgment. Instead, I got silence.

No one looked at me. In fact, the Omegas seemed to be actively avoiding my gaze, their heads bowed low, shoulders tense.

"Welcome home, Luna Hannah," a small voice squeaked. It was Maya, a young Omega who usually tended to the gardens. She was wringing her hands, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Thank you, Maya," I said, offering a tired smile. "Is Alpha Jonas in his office?"

Maya flinched. Actually flinched. "He... he is busy, Luna. With Miss Lacey. For her birthday preparations."

I sighed, the familiar weight of disappointment settling in my chest. "Right. Of course." I didn't have the energy to fight for my husband's attention today. All I wanted was to change out of these stiff business clothes and go see the one creature in this house who actually liked me.

I headed straight for the sunroom at the back of the house. It was my sanctuary, the only place Lacey’s cloying perfume hadn’t invaded. My steps quickened as I approached the glass enclosure in the corner.

"Barnaby?" I called out softly. "I brought you some strawberries. The organic ones you like."

Silence answered me.

The enclosure was open. The heat lamp was off. My heart gave a strange, violent thud against my ribs. I moved closer, peering over the edge. The sand was disturbed, churned up in a chaotic mess. And there, near the water dish, was a smear of dark, metallic red.

Blood.

My breath hitched. "Maya!" I screamed, my voice cracking. "Maya!"

The young Omega appeared in the doorway seconds later, shaking like a leaf. "Luna, I... I tried to stop them..."

"Where is he?" My hands gripped the edge of the glass tank so hard my knuckles turned white. "Where is Barnaby? Did a fox get in? Did—"

"It wasn't a fox," Maya whispered, tears spilling over her cheeks. "Miss Lacey... she was in here this morning. She told the Alpha she admired the pattern on his shell. She said it would make such a lovely centerpiece for her party."

The world stopped. The air left the room.

"What did you say?" My voice was barely a whisper, but it carried a vibration that made the glass rattle.

"Alpha Jonas took him," Maya sobbed. "Hours ago."

I didn't run. Running was for prey. I walked. I walked with a precision and coldness that felt foreign to the woman who had spent three years trying to be the perfect, submissive Luna. I marched through the hallway, ignoring the startled gasps of the pack members as I shoved past them.

I didn't knock on the office door. I threw it open.

Laughter died instantly. Jonas was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Lacey was perched on the edge of the desk, her legs crossed, giggling at something he had just said.

And there, resting on a velvet cushion between them, was a shell.

It was polished to a high shine, the beautiful, ancient patterns of gold and black catching the light. It was empty. It was clean.

It was Barnaby.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. That tortoise had been a gift from my grandmother. He was three hundred years old. He had been my silent confidant when I was hidden away from the world, my only friend in this lonely, miserable marriage.

"Hannah?" Jonas frowned, setting his glass down. He looked annoyed, not guilty. "You're back early. Don't you know how to knock?"

Lacey hopped off the desk, smoothing her skirt. She offered me a wide, innocent smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, Hannah! Look what Jonas made for me. Isn't it exquisite? The texture is just divine."

I stared at the shell. My vision blurred, hot tears pricking my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "You killed him," I said. My voice was flat. Dead.

Jonas rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, for Goddess's sake, Hannah. Don't start this drama. It was a reptile. A slow, useless reptile."

"He was my family," I choked out, taking a step forward. "He was a gift from my grandmother."

"He was a pet," Jonas snapped, his Alpha tone bleeding into his voice, expecting me to submit. "Lacey wanted something unique for her decor. A Luna should be generous. Honestly, your attachment to that thing was embarrassing. It’s weak, human sentimentality. You should be thanking me for getting rid of the clutter."

Lacey pouted, clinging to Jonas’s arm. "I didn't know it meant so much to her, Jonas. Maybe we should give it back? Although... it does match the curtains perfectly."

"Keep it," Jonas said firmly, glaring at me. "Hannah, get out. Go wash up. You look like a mess, and we have guests arriving in an hour. Stop embarrassing me."

Something inside me snapped.

It wasn't a loud snap. It was the sound of a heavy chain finally breaking under too much tension.

I looked at Jonas—really looked at him. I saw the weakness in his jaw, the cruelty in his eyes, the pathetic way he preened under Lacey's false adoration. I had dimmed my light for this man. I had hidden my heritage, my power, and my truth just to keep the peace in a marriage that was nothing but a sham.

"Embarrassing you?" I repeated softly.

I closed my eyes. Deep inside, the wolf I had kept sedated for years stirred. She didn't growl; she roared. It was a soundless, psychic explosion that tore through the room.

When I opened my eyes, the office changed. The air grew heavy, static electricity crackling along the bookshelves.

Jonas frowned, sitting up straighter. "Hannah? What are you—"

My eyes burned. I knew they were no longer their usual soft brown. I could feel the heat of them shifting, glowing a vibrant, piercing violet. The color of royalty. The color of the Lycan King.

*Crack.*

The mirror behind Lacey shattered.

Lacey shrieked, ducking as shards of glass rained down onto the carpet. Jonas jumped to his feet, his face draining of color. The Alpha aura I released wasn't a wave; it was a tsunami. It slammed into Jonas, forcing him back against his chair, his knees buckling under the sheer weight of a power he couldn't comprehend.

"You wanted a unique decoration, Jonas?" My voice wasn't mine anymore. It was layered, echoing with the authority of generations of Lycan blood. "You just made the biggest mistake of your miserable life."

I didn't wait for his response. I turned on my heel and walked out. As I passed the threshold, the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind me with such force that the frame splintered.

I marched to my room, the servants scattering like terrified mice as I passed. I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I pulled my grandmother’s silver pendant from my jewelry box and clasped it around my neck. It felt heavy, cold, and right.

I packed one bag. Just the essentials.

As I zipped it shut, I looked at myself in the vanity mirror. The violet faded from my eyes, but the steel remained. Hannah the submissive Luna was dead. She died in that office with Barnaby.

The Silver Moon Pack wouldn't just lose a Luna today. They were about to gain a war.