After My Alpha Scented Another, I Walked Away

The moon was high and bright, casting long silver shadows across the neutral woods. I stood at the edge of the tree line with Denver. A few wolves from the neighboring Oak Creek pack were stretching and laughing nearby. They didn't care about Ironveil politics. They didn't care about missing Lunas or angry Alphas. They just wanted to run.

I let my clothes drop to the damp grass. I closed my eyes and let my inner wolf push forward. The shift was smooth and fast. Bones cracked and reformed, muscles shifted, but it didn't hurt. It felt like waking up from a very long nap.

My wolf shook out her russet fur. She let out a soft huff of breath into the cool night air. For seven years, my runs had been scheduled and polite. I always stayed at the back of the Ironveil pack, making sure the omegas and the elders kept up, while Atticus led the charge at the front. I was the caretaker. The placeholder. Not tonight.

I took off. The cold autumn wind whipped past my ears. I pushed my paws hard into the dirt, running faster than I had in years. Denver ran right beside me, her sleek gray wolf snapping playfully at my heels. We tore through the thick trees, dodging branches and leaping over fallen logs. My lungs burned in the best possible way. There was no hierarchy out here. There was only the dirt, the wind, and the speed.

When we reached the top of the ridge overlooking the valley, I stopped. I looked down at the silver river cutting through the landscape below. My chest heaved. For the first time since I was sixteen years old, I wasn't waiting for anyone. I was just me.

Then, the air changed.

It got heavy. The casual, yipping chatter of the Oak Creek wolves died instantly. My wolf's ears pinned flat against her skull. The scent hit me a second before I saw him. Pine and storm. It was so thick and furious it tasted bitter on my tongue.

He didn't even slow down to warn us. Atticus burst through the tree line like a freight train. He shifted mid-stride, his human clothes tearing to shreds as his massive midnight-black wolf hit the ground. He was huge. Two meters of pure, terrifying muscle and dominance.

The Oak Creek wolves whimpered. A few of them immediately dropped to their bellies in the dirt, exposing their necks to his overwhelming Alpha aura.

I didn't submit. I didn't even lower my head.

I shifted back to my human form right there on the ridge. I stood bare-legged in the cold grass, quickly pulling on the oversized flannel shirt Denver had left on a rock for me. I buttoned it slowly, keeping my hands perfectly steady.

Atticus stalked toward me. His glowing yellow eyes were locked entirely on my face. He let out a low, rumbling growl that vibrated deep in my chest. He was projecting his aura, pushing that heavy, crushing psychic weight onto my shoulders to make me kneel. My knees trembled under the pressure, but I locked them tight.

He stepped closer, backing me up until my spine hit the rough bark of an oak tree. He planted his massive front paws on either side of my head, trapping me against the wood. His hot breath fanned over my face. Through the brick wall in my mind, his wolf was screaming at mine. *Mine. Submit. Come home.*

But my wolf just sat down behind that mental wall and stared at him. She didn't care about his size anymore. She only cared about the jasmine and cedar she had smelled woven into his jacket three days ago.

I looked up into his wild, furious eyes. I didn't drop my gaze.

"You're going to want to back up," I said. My voice wasn't loud, but it carried perfectly in the dead silent woods.

He snapped his jaws, a sharp, angry sound. He leaned in closer, his wet nose brushing my collarbone. He wanted me to cower. He wanted me to remember who he was and who I was supposed to be.

I just stared at him. "Do it," I whispered, my voice dripping with ice. "Bite me. Drag me back by my hair in front of half of Oak Creek. Let them all see the great Alpha King lose his mind over a woman he never even marked."

He froze. His ears twitched. His eyes flicked to the side for a fraction of a second. The neighboring wolves were watching us, wide-eyed and completely silent. He was a politician as much as he was an Alpha. He couldn't attack an unranked woman in neutral territory without starting an inter-pack war or ruining his flawless reputation.

I placed one flat hand against his massive, furry chest. I pushed. He didn't budge, but he didn't bite me either. I ducked under his heavy shoulder and stepped out of his trap.

"Let's go, Denver," I called out.

I didn't look back. I just walked away, leaving the most powerful Alpha in the region standing frozen in the dirt, trapped by his own pride.

An hour later, I was back in my cramped apartment, toweling off my damp hair. My phone buzzed loudly on the kitchen counter. It was Denver. Then it buzzed again. And again.

I picked it up and hit dial. She answered on the first ring.

"Are you okay?" I asked immediately.

"I'm fine," Denver breathed. Her voice was tight, and I could hear the adrenaline shaking in her words. "I just left the pack house. Atticus called me into his office the second he got back."

I gripped the phone tighter. "What did he do?"

"He tried to Alpha-command me," she scoffed, though her breath hitched a little. "He was still in his torn pants from the shift. He was pacing behind his desk like a feral dog. He used the tone, Lyra. The full Alpha register. It was so heavy the glass on his office windows was actually rattling. He demanded to know exactly where you were staying and who you've been talking to."

My stomach dropped. "Denver, you didn't have to—"

"I didn't tell him shit," she interrupted fiercely. "I stood right there, looked him in his bloodshot eyes, and told him I don't answer to him when it comes to you. I'm a Gamma's daughter, Lyra. I know how to brace for an aura. I wasn't going to roll over for him."

"He could punish you," I whispered, guilt gnawing at my edges.

"He dismissed me," she said quickly. "He just waved his hand and told me to get out. He looked... sick, Lyra. Like he's actually losing his mind. But I wanted you to know right away. He's not just going to wait for you to come back anymore. He's actively hunting."

I looked at the locked apartment door. The three cheap deadbolts suddenly looked very flimsy.

"Let him hunt," I said quietly into the phone. "He doesn't know what he's looking for anymore."

We hung up. I set the phone down and walked over to the window. The rain was starting to fall, slicking the dark streets below. The bond in my head was no longer just scratching at the wall. It was slamming against it, furious and desperate, bleeding panic into my mind.

I pulled the blinds shut, turned off the lights, and let him bang on the door in my head all night long.