Alpha's Craving For My Love

Ever since Ethan and I started dating, I’d been making him a birthday cake every single year—by hand, from scratch. But this time, when he asked me to make a cake, I knew it wasn’t for him. I didn’t need to check his phone to know who the cake was really for; I’d seen that little cartoon avatar on his screen before. It was Fiona’s.

The silence in the room was unnerving, but Ethan seemed oblivious to the weight of his request. His expectant gaze lingered on me, waiting for my usual compliance.

“Send me the picture,” I said, keeping my voice neutral as I stood up. “I’ll head out now to buy the ingredients.”

As I walked out, my mind drifted back to the time Ethan had helped me land my first job, seven years ago. I had been so grateful then, thinking I owed him everything. But now, all I wanted was to be free. ‘Once I finish this cake, I’ll be done with him,’ I thought, my steps feeling heavier as I left the apartment.

“Skylar,” Ethan’s voice broke through the silence just as I reached the door. His tone was unsure, as though he had more to say.

“Anything else?” I asked flatly, without turning around.

There was a pause. “…I’ll Venmo you for the ingredients,” he added weakly.

I continued walking, not bothering to reply. In the elevator, I pulled out my phone and opened our chat history. 5,363 messages. That’s how many I had sent him over the years. He had only replied to 25. The numbers stung, but I could only smirk at the absurdity of it all.

Later that night, around 8 p.m., my phone rang. Ethan’s name flashed on the screen.

“Where are you?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

I sat in a diner, picking at my food. “What’s up?” I sidestepped his question.

“Nothing much,” he said softly, almost awkwardly. “The cake you made was delicious, as always. Thanks. I know it was a lot of effort.”

Before I could respond, I heard Fiona’s overly sweet voice in the background.

“Skylar! I heard from Ethan that you made my birthday cake today. Wow, you’re so talented!” she gushed. “I wish I could bake like you, but I’m so clumsy. Ethan always calls me his little dummy.”

Her voice dripped with fake innocence, and before I could even process what she said, she invited me to the party.

But Ethan cut her off, his tone firmer now. “You don’t need to come,” he said, before hanging up. A few minutes later, another message from him buzzed on my phone: [If you stop by, grab a bag of tomato-flavored chips for Fiona from the store.]

I sighed, the sarcasm bubbling up in me as I smiled faintly.

Now, I am the topic of a funny gossip. The pack's Luna was just someone's errand woman.

When I pushed the door open to the private room where the party was being held, I spotted Ethan immediately. He was feeding Fiona a slice of cake, her eyes wide as she looked up at him adoringly.

The moment Ethan saw me, his expression darkened with irritation. I could see it in his eyes—he hadn’t expected me to show up.

“Skylar!” Fiona greeted me with a saccharine smile, her voice like syrup.

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “Didn’t I tell you not to come?” he snapped, his irritation clear.

Before I could respond, Fiona jumped in, pouting dramatically. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I just really wanted those chips, so I tricked her into coming,” she said, feigning innocence.

Ethan’s hard expression softened as he reached out to ruffle her hair. “You little munchkin,” he muttered with a fond smile.

I watched the exchange, my resolve hardening. This was my moment.

I reached into my bag and pulled out a resignation letter, stepping forward. “Ethan, one of my colleagues has a family emergency and needs to leave. I need you to approve this.”

He barely glanced at the letter before scribbling his signature, his attention still focused on Fiona. But as he handed the letter back to me, his fingers brushed against the burn marks on my palm, a reminder of the cake I’d made. His brow furrowed, his eyes lingering on my hand.

“You came here just for this?” he asked, his voice low and unreadable.

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral.

His face darkened, and for a second, I thought he was going to say something more. But then he flinched, pulling his hand back like he’d been burned. Disgust flashed across his face, and I knew it wasn’t just about the cake.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Fiona’s eyes light up. “Oh! Skylar! That red bracelet you’re wearing... it looks familiar,” she said, leaning in with a sly smile. “I just remembered—I saw something just like it in Ethan’s trash can the other day.”

I saw Ethan subtly move his hand to cover his wrist, but I pretended not to notice.

“These bracelets are common,” I replied calmly. “If you like it, I can give you this one.”

There is no sense in wearing this bracelet anymore. I am my own person, my pack, and a mateless Luna.

Fiona didn’t respond, her eyes narrowing slightly. The tension in the room thickened, but I felt nothing but a sense of finality. This was the last time I’d let them both play their little games.