The Alpha Went Insane When He Found out I Pretended to Love Him

The soft rustling of fabric accompanied Amelia as she folded yet another blouse and placed it into her suitcase.

The dresser held no keepsakes from her. The closet, half-empty, was filled with garments she’d bought herself. Not once had Adam thought to gift her something as simple as a scarf or a dress. Even her side of the nightstand was barren, save for the divorce papers tucked into the drawer.

She sighed, reaching under the bed for a small, dusty box. Inside were the thoughtful gifts she’d given Adam over the years: a leather-bound journal she had engraved with his initials, an expensive watch she saved months for, and a sleek pen she thought he’d use in pack meetings. All of them were untouched, forgotten.

“Let someone else appreciate these,” she muttered, setting the box aside for sale. Amelia thought that selling those things would be better than letting them all rot in the corner.

The sound of an engine outside drew her attention. She glanced out the window to see the sleek, black Maybach pulling up to the pack house driveway. Her stomach turned.

Asher. Asher, Adam’s younger brother, had been nothing but mean to Amelia from the day she married into the family. He was sharp-tongued and unapologetically hostile, his every word and action laced with disdain.

Having grown up alongside Bridgette, the woman he believed was destined to be Adam’s mate, Asher had built an image of what his sister-in-law should have been. Bridgette was familiar, kind, and deeply rooted in their world—a perfect match for his brother. But when she left, everything changed.

In her place came Amelia, a stranger in every sense of the word. To Asher, she was an intruder, someone who didn’t belong in their family. His bitterness toward her wasn’t subtle. He challenged her decisions, dismissed her efforts, and made it clear he saw her as an outsider.

She didn’t need to wait long. The door slammed, and heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. Within moments, her brother-in-law appeared at the doorway, his smirk as sharp as a blade.

“Well, well,” Asher drawled, leaning against the frame with mock casualness. “If it isn’t the Alpha’s charity case.”

Amelia stiffened but didn’t stop folding her clothes. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Selling things now?” He continued, nodding toward the box. “What’s next? A roadside stall? Or are you finally leaving this place for good?”

She calmly folded another blouse, her hands steady. “I don’t see how it concerns you, Asher.”

“It concerns me because I’ve spent the last three years watching you embarrass this pack,” he snapped, his tone turning cold. "Now that Bridgette is back, why don't you go back to where you truly belong?"

Amelia paused, her hands gripping the fabric in her lap. For years, she’d swallowed every insult Asher threw her way just to honor the deal she had with Aunt Camille, but now she didn't need to endure any of it anymore. The contract was done and she was leaving soon.

“You’re right,” she said quietly, meeting his gaze for the first time. “I don’t belong here." She smirked, making Asher's eyes widen in shock. He didn't anticipate her response to be like that. Usually, Amelia would just bow her head and receive insults.

Her calmness seemed to unnerve him. Asher’s smirk faltered before he recovered. “Good riddance,” he muttered. Then, as if on cue, another car pulled up, this one far too familiar.

Amelia didn’t need to know who stepped out. She could feel the shift in the air, the way the energy around the house seemed to change.

“Looks like someone’s back where she belongs,” Asher said, his smirk returning.

Amelia turned her head as Bridgette emerged from the car. The woman was stunning, with flowing auburn hair and delicate, poised air. She carried herself like a Luna returning to her throne, her every movement graceful and deliberate.

Bridgette smiled warmly as she approached the house, her soft voice carrying up the steps. “Asher, it’s so good to see you again.”

“Bridgette,” Asher greeted, his tone dripping with affection. “It’s about time you came back. Things haven’t been the same without you.”

Amelia stepped aside as they exchanged pleasantries, feeling more invisible than ever. But then, Asher turned his attention back to her, his eyes gleaming with malice.

“Amelia,” he said with mock sweetness, “why don’t you help Bridgette with her luggage? It’s the least you can do.”

For a moment, the room felt still, as if the very house was holding its breath. Amelia met Asher’s gaze, her expression unreadable. Slowly, she straightened, her eyes flicking to Bridgette, who stood awkwardly by the door.

“No,” Amelia uttered, firm and composed.

Asher’s jaw tightened, but before he could respond, Amelia picked up her suitcase and walked past them without another word.

It wasn’t long before Adam arrived. The familiar growl of his engine made Amelia pause at the top of the stairs, her suitcase in hand. She descended slowly, her steps measured as she watched him step into the pack house.

Adam’s face lit up when he saw Bridgette, his smile wider than it had been in years. “You’re here,” he said warmly, pulling her into a brief hug.

Bridgette smiled shyly, glancing at Amelia as though hesitant. “I hope I’m not imposing,” she said softly.

“Not at all,” Adam reassured her quickly. “You can stay here as long as you need while the renovations are done. Amelia won’t mind, will you?”

He turned to Amelia, his expression expectant.

In the past, this moment would have set her heart racing with fury and jealousy. She had mastered the art of playing the part—acting heartbroken, pained, and possessive—just as everyone expected a devoted Luna to be. It was how she fooled them into believing she truly loved him.

But now, she didn’t need to pretend anymore. Not for him, not for anyone.

“Of course not,” she said, a small, composed smile playing on her lips. “I’m happy to help.”

Adam blinked, caught off guard. Asher, standing nearby, shifted uncomfortably, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. In the past, even the mere mention of Bridgette’s name would have triggered Amelia’s anger or jealousy. Yet here Bridgette was, standing right in front of her, and Amelia looked entirely unaffected.

For a moment, the room felt heavy with unspoken questions. Adam’s gaze lingered on her, puzzled, while Asher frowned, as though trying to decipher the shift in her demeanor.

Amelia caught their reactions and felt a quiet amusement bubbling within her. She almost laughed at their stunned expressions, their inability to comprehend the calm in her voice, and the indifference in her gaze.

It was funny, really—how she had once played this part so convincingly, bending herself into someone she wasn’t for the sake of appearances. But now, none of it mattered. She would be leaving soon, free from this charade.