Alpha's Craving For My Love

As I pondered how Ethan treated his assistant, Fiona, compared to how he treated me, my hand trembled, knocking my fork to the floor. My thoughts were a mess, and when I bent down to pick it up, I saw Ethan standing by the doorway, dressed and ready to leave.

Without even turning back, he tossed his words over his shoulder. "Something urgent came up at the office. I'll give you a ride next time," he muttered before hurrying out. Just like that—no concern, no care. I stood there in silence, wondering when exactly I became invisible to him.

When I limped into my cubicle, the pain in my leg from the rogue attack throbbed, but I pushed through. Something was off today, though. My colleagues kept casting me sympathetic glances. It was as if they knew something I didn’t.

Later, as I filled my water bottle in the break room, I overheard two colleagues whispering behind me.

“So, it’s true? Alpha really ditched our Luna for that assistant of his?” one said.

“Yeah! You should’ve seen it this morning. Fiona showed up with a stain on her dress, and he picked her up in front of everyone in the meeting room,” the other replied.

My grip on the bottle slipped, and it crashed to the floor, spilling water everywhere. The room went silent. I crouched down, cleaning up the mess without a word, my hands shaking as I threw the pieces of my pride into the trash along with the broken glass.

The day dragged on, and I ended up working late into the night. It was past ten when I suddenly felt something warm on my shoulders.

"Skylar," Ethan's voice muttered, draping his coat over me. Why didn’t you respond to my messages?"

I didn’t turn around. Instead, I pulled out my phone and saw his text: What flavor of milk tea do you usually like?

I hadn’t asked him for a milkshake in three years, not since that one summer. I’d begged him for one back then, and he’d looked at me with disdain. “Milk? Really, Skylar? You’re nearly 30. Don’t make me sick with this childish crap.”

But now, here he was, holding out a milk as if that would erase everything.

“I won’t be able to sleep if I drink it now,” I said, not even bothering to look at him.

There was a pause. “You used to beg me for this,” he said, sounding genuinely confused.

I didn’t respond. He muttered something about going to the bathroom and said we’d leave together after, but I hardly heard him. His phone buzzed, lighting up the desk beside me. A message from Fiona flashed across the screen:

You silly! Sending me a lot of milk teas at once! Trying to make me fat, huh?

I stared at the screen for a moment, then turned my attention back to my computer, my heart ice cold.

When we got home, I went straight to the bedroom and started packing. I wasn’t staying here any longer. Ethan came in, freshly showered, and noticed the changes immediately—my things missing from their usual places.

He frowned but didn’t ask. “Hey, I’m going to Paris for a business trip next month. If you want anything, just make a list.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Nah, I don’t need anything.”

He dropped his towel onto the bed, a chill entering his voice. "What’s wrong? You mad because I bought you the wrong ?"

I blinked at him, confused, but before I could respond, he scoffed. “You know I can’t stand women being dramatic. Skylar, you’re being ridiculous. It's just a milk tea.”

That old, familiar disgust was in his eyes. The same look he gave me when I showed the slightest hint of emotion. Without waiting for an answer, he stormed out, slamming the door to his study behind him.

Seven years. Seven years of silent treatments, of me always apologizing, groveling to make things right. But this time, I wasn’t going to do that. I cocked an eyebrow, switched off the bedside lamp, and didn’t knock on the study door.

The next morning, I made breakfast as usual, ate alone, and got ready to leave for work. Ethan came out of his study, still on his phone, barely sparing me a glance.

“Take the day off,” he ordered, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “I need you to make me an identical fondant cake by 5 p.m.”

I stared at him, the absurdity of it almost making me laugh. There I was, trying to hold my world together, and he was focused on some cake.

I lost my child, the future Alpha of this pack, and yet, he didn't care that much.

So, I gave a noncommittal nod, but my mind was already elsewhere.

Ethan was still lost in his phone as he turned away, probably messaging Fiona.

I was leaving. Soon. I wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.