Burned by the Alpha Who Chose Another

The day before Isaiah and I were supposed to have our marking ceremony, I spotted him through the window, caught in a passionate embrace with Laney, his assistant and an Omega from the Crimson Fang Pack. I didn’t cry or make a scene; I just tossed aside the ring I had in my hand.

His first words when he walked in were, “The marking ceremony tomorrow is off.”

“I know.”

This time, I didn’t bother asking why.

To my surprise, he offered an explanation, “The pack is facing some issues, and I have to go oversee a dispute with a neighboring pack.”

He squeezed my hand slightly, “Araceli, I’ll make it up to you next time.”

His assistant chimed in appropriately, “Ms. Hansen, where can I find Beta Foster’s luggage? I’ll take it downstairs. I don’t want to intrude.”

She glanced at Isaiah with an intense look, as if her eyes were glued to him.

“It’s in the bedroom; take your time packing. I need to go home and pick up a few things.”

Isaiah didn’t try to stop me, only urging me to come back soon.

The next day, as he left for his duty, I booked a flight out of the country.

---

Isaiah still thought I’d wait for him unconditionally like before. This was the third time he promised to reschedule our marking ceremony. We’d been together for eight years, from our first shift to our roles within the pack. He always said he’d mark me after he became Beta, but every time he used pack responsibilities as an excuse to postpone it.

“Araceli, I’ll only mark you in this lifetime; you won’t escape.”

The first time, while I was preparing for the ceremony in the pack’s grand hall, he suddenly told me there was an emergency: a rogue had attacked our borders, and he had to lead the warriors to handle it.

“The marking ceremony will be postponed.”

The second time, he claimed a dispute had arisen with the neighboring pack, and he had to negotiate, or the pack’s safety would be compromised.

Pack duty was his perpetual excuse.

And now, just the night before our marking, he said it again, “Ceremony canceled.”

Isaiah, I longed to mark you, but I won’t mark only you.

That morning, we were supposed to go together to prepare for the ceremony. I stood ready, but he was nowhere to be seen in the hall.

After searching around, I found him on the balcony, on a call.

“Are you really planning to mark her?”

I leaned against the wall; the voice on the phone was crystal clear and all too unsettling.

Isaiah rubbed his temples. “Who? Araceli?

“Of course not.”

The person on the other end chuckled lightly, “You were crazy about her when she first shifted, insisting she was your destined mate. Why are you so hesitant now?

“Were you just pretending all along?”

Isaiah sighed, “Who knows? Back then, she seemed beautiful, a bright young Omega.

“But.” He paused, “Now I’m tired of her; even seeing her once makes me feel sick.”

My excited heartbeat immediately halted, as if a bucket of icy water from the dead of winter was dumped over my head, freezing my blood flow.

All my affection turned into a joke.

The person laughed a few more times, raising their voice, “Why don’t you just reject her already? Your assistant is young, pretty, and soft as a feather. Don’t tell me you haven’t tried her yet.”

Isaiah paused for a few seconds, gazing into the distance, “Keeping her around to kill boredom isn’t bad.”

“Don’t blame me for not reminding you; this is the third time. What excuse can you find this time?”

“Excuses don’t matter; she’ll believe whatever I say.”

They bantered a bit more before someone called them away, and they ended the call, taunting all the while.

Isaiah finished the call and was about to leave; I slipped away to the restroom.

Standing by the sink, the woman in the mirror had a flawlessly made-up face, but her eyes were vacant, like a flower battered by hail.

It turned out everyone knew Isaiah’s proposal was a sham, the excuses were made up, and his assistant was his close confidante.

Yet every time they saw me, they warmly called me “Beta’s mate.”

I thought it was acceptance; behind my back, it was endless mockery.

Like a puppet on stage, they watched as I was toyed with and ridiculed.