After My Alpha Left Me, I Became a White Wolf

I woke up screaming.

Not the first time. Wouldn't be the last.

Hands pressed against my shoulders—firm but gentle. "Wren. You're safe. You're in the Capital."

Rhett's voice cut through the nightmare, anchoring me back to reality. I blinked hard, forcing my eyes to focus on the sterile white ceiling of the medical wing instead of the collapsing hallway that still haunted my sleep.

Three years. Three years since that night, and my body still remembered the weight of the beam crushing my spine, the smell of gas, the sound of Sebastian's footsteps walking away.

"Your vitals spiked," Rhett said quietly, releasing my shoulders once I'd stopped thrashing. "Same nightmare?"

I didn't answer. Didn't need to.

He moved to the window, giving me space to collect myself. That was Rhett—always knowing exactly how much distance I needed. The High Healer who'd spent three years putting me back together, piece by broken piece.

"Get dressed," he said, his back still turned. "Your father wants to see you."

Twenty minutes later, I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my quarters, barely recognizing the woman staring back.

The scars were gone. Rhett's healing magic had erased every physical mark Sebastian and Arielle had left on my body. My face was the same, but sharper somehow. Harder. My dark hair fell in sleek waves instead of the tangled mess it used to be. The tailored black suit I wore cost more than a year's wages in the Omega quarters.

I looked like I belonged in the Lycan Capital. Like I'd been born to wear power instead of scrub floors.

The Omega was dead. Good riddance.

A knock at the door. Rhett entered without waiting for permission, carrying a manila folder that looked too thin to contain anything important.

It contained everything.

"Medical clearance," he said, handing me a signed form. "You're officially fit for active duty." His amber eyes searched my face. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"I've been ready for three years."

"That's not what I asked."

I took the folder from him, our fingers brushing. Even that small contact sent warmth through me—not the burning intensity of a mate bond, but something steadier. Safer. Rhett had never pushed, never demanded. He'd just been there, patient as stone, waiting for me to heal enough to let someone in again.

I wasn't there yet. Might never be.

I opened the folder. The Silverclaw Pack's financial records stared back at me, page after page of discrepancies and suspicious transactions. But it was the summary on top that made my pulse quicken.

*Pack stability: Critical. Birth rate: Zero in thirty-six months. Warrior strength: Declining. Alpha Sebastian Stone's mate bond status: Severed. Recommendation: Full Council investigation.*

The pack was dying. Without a true Luna, without the mate bond that should have anchored Sebastian's power, the Silverclaw Pack was collapsing from the inside out.

And the Council had appointed me—Wren Russell, daughter of Judge Russell, formerly known as the wolfless Omega—as Special Prosecutor.

"When do I leave?" I asked.

Rhett's jaw tightened. "Tomorrow morning. I'm coming with you."

"You don't have to—"

"I'm coming." His tone left no room for argument. "As your assigned Healer and protective detail."

I should have protested. Should have insisted I could handle this alone. But the truth was, I didn't want to face Sebastian without someone at my back. Someone who wouldn't abandon me when things got hard.

Someone who'd already proven he'd pull me from the rubble instead of walking away.

"Fine," I said. "But I'm driving."

The convoy of black SUVs rolled through the Silverclaw territory gates at exactly nine a.m.

I sat in the back of the lead vehicle, watching familiar streets pass by through tinted windows. The pack house loomed ahead, rebuilt after the attack but somehow smaller than I remembered. Less impressive. Just a building, not the palace I'd once thought it was.

The SUVs stopped in perfect formation. Rhett exited first, scanning the area with a Beta's tactical precision before opening my door.

I stepped out into the morning sun.

The effect was immediate. Pack members who'd been going about their business froze. Heads turned. Conversations died mid-sentence.

I let my aura unfurl—just a fraction of it, just enough to remind them what real power felt like. The air around me shimmered with suppressed energy, the kind that came from Lycan royalty, from bloodlines that predated their little territorial pack by centuries.

An older wolf I recognized—he used to laugh when I slipped in the kitchen—dropped his gaze immediately, his shoulders hunching in instinctive submission.

Good.

I didn't acknowledge any of them. Just walked straight toward the pack house entrance, my heels clicking against the pavement with the rhythm of a countdown.

Rhett fell into step beside me, his presence a solid wall of protection at my back.

The guards at the door moved to block our path, then saw the Council insignia on my jacket and practically tripped over themselves getting out of the way.

The Alpha's office was on the third floor. I knew the way by heart—had walked it a hundred times in the dark, sneaking up the back stairs like a guilty secret.

Not anymore.

I took the main staircase, letting everyone see me. Letting them wonder. Letting the whispers spread like wildfire: *The dead Omega isn't dead. And she's coming for the Alpha.*

Outside Sebastian's office, I paused. My hand hovered over the door handle.

Three years ago, I'd stood in this same spot, pregnant and desperate, believing love could save me.

Now I stood here with the full weight of the Lycan Council behind me, carrying nothing but cold purpose.

I pushed open the door without knocking.

Sebastian sat behind his desk, head bent over paperwork. He looked up, irritation flashing across his face at the interruption.

Then he saw me.

The color drained from his face. Papers slipped from his fingers, scattering across the desk. He stood so fast his chair crashed backward.

"Hello, Sebastian," I said, my voice steady as steel. "We need to talk about your pack's future."

Or lack thereof.