Alpha's Betrayal Unveiled

I gathered the few possessions that truly mattered to me from our—no, Alexander's—bedroom. My hands trembled as I folded the silk nightgown my mother had given me before she died. Seven years of my life in this pack, and everything I owned filled barely half a suitcase. The rest had been gifts from Alexander—things that now felt tainted by his betrayal.

Aria paced restlessly within me. *Take the silver hairbrush. It was your grandmother's before it was yours.*

I reached for the antique brush on the vanity, my fingers brushing against the cool silver. A memory flashed—Alexander brushing my hair on our third anniversary, his touch gentle as he counted each stroke. I blinked back tears and tucked the brush into my bag.

The door swung open without warning. Sarah stood there, wearing a dress I recognized as one Alexander had commissioned for me last winter solstice. It hung awkwardly on her frame—too long, too loose in places, too tight in others. The sight would have been almost comical if not for the cruel gleam in her eyes.

"Still here? I thought you'd have slunk away by now," she said, sauntering into the room as if she owned it. Which, I supposed, she now did.

I straightened my spine, refusing to cower. "I'm gathering my things. I'll be gone within the hour."

"Oh, take your time," she said with false sweetness. "It's not like you have anywhere important to go."

That's when I noticed what dangled from her fingers—the sacred moonstone Alexander had brought back from his pilgrimage to the ancient shrines. The stone he'd carried up treacherous mountain paths when I was ill, praying to the Moon Goddess for my recovery. The physical manifestation of what I'd thought was his undying love.

"That's not yours," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah examined the moonstone, turning it in the light. "No? Alexander gave it to me this morning. Said he had no use for old trinkets."

"You're lying." But even as the words left my mouth, doubt crept in. The Alexander I thought I knew would never have parted with that stone. But the Alexander who had rejected me in front of the entire council? Who had watched me nearly die from wolfsbane exposure without lifting a finger? I didn't know what that man was capable of anymore.

"Am I?" Sarah's lips curled into that now-familiar smirk. "Poor, pathetic Victoria. Still clinging to the fantasy that he ever truly loved you."

She held the moonstone up between us, its pale blue surface catching the afternoon light. "This? This was just a pretty rock he used to keep you docile. Just like these rooms, these clothes, this life—it was all just a convenient arrangement until someone better came along."

Aria snarled, pushing against my control. *Let me tear her throat out.*

I fought to keep my composure, to not give Sarah the satisfaction of seeing me break. "If it means so little, why do you want it?"

"I don't," she said simply. Then, maintaining eye contact with me, she dropped the moonstone to the hardwood floor.

The sound it made—a delicate, crystalline ping—seemed to echo in the sudden silence.

Before I could move, Sarah brought her heel down on the sacred stone. The crack was sickening, like bones breaking. She ground her foot, twisting until the moonstone splintered into dozens of glittering fragments.

"Oops," she said with exaggerated innocence.

Something in me snapped. With a strangled cry, I lunged forward, dropping to my knees to gather the shattered pieces. Each fragment felt like a piece of my heart, jagged and sharp against my palms.

"You're insane," I whispered, clutching the broken pieces. "The Moon Goddess will make you pay for this."

Sarah laughed, the sound like broken glass. "The Moon Goddess? Where was she when Alexander was marking me as his? Where was she when he was whispering how he'd never truly wanted you?"

She leaned down, her voice dropping to a vicious whisper. "Face it, Victoria. You were just keeping his bed warm until I was ready to take my rightful place."

She straightened, smoothing down the stolen dress. "Be gone by sunset. Anything left behind gets burned."

As the door closed behind her, I remained kneeling, blood from my cut palms mingling with the shattered remnants of the moonstone. Each piece reflected my broken future back at me, a kaleidoscope of pain and betrayal.

Aria's rage had gone quiet, replaced by a cold, calculating fury that mirrored my own. *We will not forget this,* she promised. *We will not forgive.*

I carefully wrapped the moonstone fragments in my handkerchief and placed them in my bag. Not as a memento of Alexander's false love, but as a reminder of what I had survived—and what I would never allow to happen again.