After My Alpha’s Betrayal, The Lycan King Claimed Me

"Pull tighter!" Jayla shrieked, her reflection glaring at me from the vanity mirror.

My fingers were raw, the silk laces of her corset digging into my skin like wire. "Jayla, the dress is already straining. If I pull any tighter, it might restrict your breathing."

"I didn't ask for your medical opinion, Omega," she snapped, turning to face me. Her stomach, round and heavy with Adrian's heir, pressed against the fabric. "I said pull. I refuse to look like a whale in front of the visiting Alphas. This is the Winter Solstice Ball. I need to look like a Luna."

I gritted my teeth and yanked the laces. The fabric groaned.

Jayla gasped, her hands flying to her belly. A wicked, calculated spark lit up her eyes before she let out a bloodcurdling scream. "My baby! You're crushing him!"

The door to the dressing room flew open so hard it cracked against the wall. Adrian stood there, his chest heaving, his eyes already darkening with the wolf's influence.

"What is happening?" he roared, the Alpha command in his voice making the air vibrate.

"She's trying to hurt him, Adrian!" Jayla sobbed, collapsing onto the plush ottoman, clutching her stomach theatrically. "She pulled the laces so tight I felt him kick in distress. She's jealous! She wants to hurt our son!"

Panic and fury flooded Adrian's scent. He didn't ask me for my side. He didn't look at the loose laces dangling from my hands. He crossed the room in two strides, grabbing my arm and flinging me away from her. I stumbled, catching myself on the edge of the wardrobe.

"You dare?" he snarled, looming over me. The pressure in the room spiked, a heavy, invisible weight that forced the air from my lungs.

"I was doing what she asked, Alpha," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I would never—"

"Silence!" The word hit me like a physical blow. He pointed a shaking finger at the floor. "Kneel."

My body betrayed me. The Alpha command bypassed my brain and seized my muscles. My knees hit the hardwood floor with a sickening crack. Tears stung my eyes, not from pain, but from the sheer humiliation of my own body obeying the man who was supposed to be my partner.

"Apologize," Adrian hissed, stepping closer until his expensive dress shoes were inches from my face. "Apologize to my mate and my heir for your incompetence."

I looked up at Jayla. She was smirking behind her hand, her eyes dancing with triumph. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat.

"I am sorry, Luna Jayla," I choked out, the words tasting like ash. "I am sorry, little one."

"Get out," Adrian spat, turning his back on me to comfort her. "And get changed. You’re working the floor tonight. If you can't be useful as a stylist, you can be useful as a servant."

***

The Grand Hall was a sea of velvet, diamonds, and power. Chandeliers dripped crystal light onto the gathered Alphas from neighboring packs, the air thick with the scent of pine, musk, and expensive cologne. I moved through the crowd like a ghost in my plain grey dress, balancing a heavy tray of champagne flutes.

Every laugh felt like it was directed at me. Every glance felt like a judgment. I was Haisley Price, the girl who was supposed to be Luna, now reducing herself to a waitress at her own betrothed's celebration.

"Oh, look, Adrian," Jayla’s voice cut through the hum of conversation. She was holding court near the center of the room, wearing the dress I had laced, looking radiant and cruel. " Ideally, the staff would be faster with the refills."

Adrian stood beside her, his hand resting possessively on her lower back. He looked every inch the King of the Silver Moon Pack. He didn't look at me as I approached.

"Champagne, Alpha? Luna?" I asked, keeping my head bowed.

Jayla reached for a glass, her fingers brushing mine. Then, with a flick of her wrist that was too precise to be an accident, she knocked the goblet from my hand.

*Crash.*

The sound of shattering crystal silenced the room instantly. Red wine exploded across the pristine white fur rug Jayla was standing on, splashing onto the hem of her gown.

"You clumsy idiot!" Jayla shrieked, jumping back. "Look what you've done! This rug is an antique!"

The music stopped. Dozens of eyes burned into me. I stood frozen, my hands empty, the tray trembling against my hip.

"Haisley," Adrian said, his voice dangerously calm. "You are ruining the evening."

"I... it slipped," I lied, because the truth didn't matter here.

Adrian snapped his fingers, pointing at the spreading crimson stain. "Clean it up."

I looked around for a member of the cleaning staff, but Adrian’s gaze snapped back to me. "Now, Haisley. On your knees. Show our guests how dedicated you are to correcting your mistakes."

A murmur went through the crowd. This was beyond discipline; this was a public execution of my dignity. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Slowly, I lowered myself to the floor, the glass shards biting into my skin through the fabric of my dress. I took the rag from my apron pocket and began to dab at the wine.

I was scrubbing the floor at the feet of the woman who stole my life, while the man I loved watched with cold indifference.

Suddenly, the heavy oak doors at the far end of the hall groaned open. The temperature in the room plummeted.

"Announcing," the herald’s voice wavered, trembling with genuine fear, "His Royal Majesty, King Jax Grant."

A collective gasp sucked the air out of the room. Every Alpha, every Luna, every warrior stiffened. The Lycan King wasn't just a ruler; he was a myth, a monster of justice who rarely left his citadel.

I froze, the wine-soaked rag in my hand. I looked up from the floor.

Walking through the doors was the stranger from the woods.

He wasn't wearing tactical gear tonight. He was dressed in a tailored black tuxedo that strained against his broad shoulders, a silver pin in the shape of a howling wolf on his lapel. His presence was a physical force, a tidal wave of power that made Adrian’s Alpha aura feel like a candle in a hurricane.

The room parted for him like the Red Sea. He didn't look at the visiting dignitaries. He didn't look at Adrian, who had gone pale.

He looked at me.

His amber eyes locked onto mine, burning with a golden fire that made my dormant wolf stir in her sleep. He took in the scene—the broken glass, the wine, me on my knees in front of Jayla.

His jaw tightened, a muscle feathering in his cheek. The air around him crackled with lethal intent, a low growl vibrating in the silence of the hall. He didn't speak out loud, but his voice echoed in my mind, clear as a bell and heavy with a promise of violence.

*"Endure one more night, my Queen."*