Alpha's Betrayed Luna

Leonel Powell, the Alpha of the Blue Moon Pack, was once the heir to a powerful family that had fallen from grace. For five years, I’d worked tirelessly—taking on every role the pack could offer, from cleaning the Alpha’s quarters to assisting the Healers—just to support him. I was an Omega, the lowest rank in the pack, and my resources were limited. But I did it all without complaint, believing in him, in us.

The day Dr. Gardner, the pack’s Healer, diagnosed me with a rare and fatal illness, I sent Leonel a message.

“Alpha, I’ve run into a problem. Could you lend me $7,000?”

The moment I hit send, I regretted it. I hated asking for help, especially from him. But he replied almost instantly.

“Emilia, if that’s not enough, let me know,” he said, attaching a screenshot of a $7,000 transaction from his account.

Tears filled my eyes. For a brief moment, I thought my sacrifices might finally be recognized. That was until I overheard his conversation with Amaris Marshall, the Lycan Princess and his childhood friend. His tone was laced with disdain.

“Amaris, you were right. Emilia is just after my resources. She probably knew all along that my family wasn’t actually powerless.”

“She’s been playing quite the game. It took five years, but she finally slipped.”

“I can’t stand opportunists. I wouldn’t give her $7, let alone $7,000. I had someone fake that transaction record.”

“I’m not losing out. Where else would I find an Omega who pays for my meals, my board, and even shares my bed?”

In his eyes, my sacrifices were nothing but a delusion. If that’s how it is, I hope we never cross paths in any lifetime.

===

As Leonel ended the call, a message from the pack’s Healer appeared.

“Emilia, you’re short $7,000 on your prepaid treatment fees. Please settle the balance promptly.”

The light from my phone cast a pale glow on my already sickly face. I turned it off and walked to the living room. On the table were rare moon berries I’d gathered from the forest—Leonel’s favorite delicacy. They were difficult to find and dangerous to harvest, but I’d risked it countless times over the years. They were a luxury I could seldom afford, yet I always made sure they were available for him.

It’s ironic—though I gathered them, I’d never tasted a single one. Knowing my time was limited, I opened the container for the first time. These berries had always been reserved for Leonel.

He was picky about his food and wouldn’t touch anything he disliked. Worried he might lack essential nutrients, I made sure these berries were always on hand, no matter how scarce resources were. I sank into the couch, savoring the berries one by one. They were sweet, tart, and bursting with flavor, worth every effort. Much like Leonel, they were a luxury I seldom allowed myself.

Leonel emerged from his study after his call, momentarily surprised to see me enjoying the berries.

“Emilia, I thought you said you didn’t like moon berries?”

I shrugged with a faint smile. “Today, I just felt like trying them.”

In truth, I’d never tasted them before, so I couldn’t say if I liked or disliked them. My concern for Leonel always prompted me to save them for him. But now, glancing at the marks on my arm from the Healer’s treatments, I thought it was time to care for myself.

I looked at his commanding presence and spoke softly.

“Alpha, aren’t you curious why I need $7,000?”

I studied him closely, noting the hint of mockery at the corner of his mouth. My heart turned to ashes then, realizing he never trusted me. He thought it was all a ploy to exploit his resources.

“Emilia, I trust that you need it for something important. You don’t have to pay it back.”

His words crushed my last bit of hope. Of course, how could I pay back money that was never really sent? Five years couldn’t even earn me $7,000, and I felt incredibly foolish.

It was three days ago that I was diagnosed—a terminal illness with no cure. Dr. Gardner suggested immediate treatment, which required a significant amount of pack resources. In theory, after working for five years, I should have been able to come up with that amount easily. But supporting Leonel left me living from one meager allowance to the next.

It took me three days to gather the courage to ask him for help. Treatment might not even save me, but I couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from Leonel by life and death. I hadn’t marked him, hadn’t stood by his side as Luna, hadn’t grown old together. But now, looking back, it was all just a fantasy on my part.

My diagnosis report sat plainly on the table, yet Leonel hadn’t so much as glanced at it—just like he hadn’t noticed my love over the past five years.