Cast the Alpha away

The door creaked open in the middle of the night, rousing me from restless sleep. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Cassian.

The bed dipped beside me as he settled in, his presence filling the space that once felt warm but now only suffocated me. A hand reached out, fingers grazing my hair with practiced gentleness.

“What did the healer say today?” His voice was soft, careful.

A scent clung to him—subtle but unmistakable. A she-wolf’s fragrance. Not mine.

The pang in my chest was immediate, but I ignored it. I had gotten too good at doing that.

“Oh, nothing important,” I murmured, shifting just enough to avoid his touch. I forced a smile, though I knew it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Everything’s fine.”

Cassian hesitated. “My position as Alpha has been giving me a hectic schedule lately,” he offered, the words too rehearsed, too smooth.

Right.

The lies were piling up again.

Rolling onto my side, I faced away from him. “Maybe you should take a shower before going to bed.”

For a second, silence stretched between us. Then, without another word, he rose, and the sound of running water filled the air. I lay still, listening, waiting. Not for him. Not for an explanation. Just waiting for the feeling in my chest to disappear.

Because I no longer cared.

...

The realization hadn’t come all at once. It was gradual, creeping in like a slow-burning fire that eventually consumed everything.

Two months had passed since my abortion. It had been an accident—I had slipped, the impact causing too much stress on my stomach. The miscarriage that followed had been inevitable.

Cassian had agreed to accompany me to my checkup today. But, as always, when the time came, he found an excuse to leave.

I no longer felt the need to chase after him.

Instead, I sat quietly in the sterile infirmary, listening to the distant sounds of the pack outside. The healers handed me my test results and medication. I swallowed the pills without much thought and left.

The old me would have been heartbroken. The old me would have waited, clinging to the hope that Cassian would come back, that maybe—just maybe—this time would be different.

But that girl was gone.

The final push had come not long after I stepped outside the infirmary.

“Selene, you can go home on your own, right? I still have things to do.”

Cassian’s voice in my mind link was casual, indifferent.

Once upon a time, I would have begged. But I need you, Alpha. Please, just this once.

Instead, I replied, “Fine.”

I took a cab back to the pack house, my mind blank. As I settled into my seat, I found myself glancing back at the infirmary’s entrance. Cassian’s car was still parked outside.

So why had he left me?

The answer came not long after.

Scrolling through Twitter on autopilot, I saw a notification. A post tagging Cassian.

[Just had a small scratch, but he insisted on dragging me to the pack's infirmary and has been accompanying me since! After all this time, you're still the best!]

The words didn’t sting. They should have, but they didn’t.

I had expected it.

Sienna Vaughn.

I knew her well. Who wouldn’t? She was Cassian’s childhood sweetheart. Years ago, she had left with her Alpha mate, only to return recently, a fallen Luna with a child in tow after her mate’s death.

The moment she set foot back in Moonvale Town, it had been clear where Cassian’s heart truly lay.

I had just been a placeholder during her absence.

And I had been foolish enough to believe that was enough.

...

Later that evening, Cassian returned home. He didn’t come alone.

I stood in the dimly lit hall of the pack house, watching as he entered, Sienna at his side. In his arms, he carried her child, holding them as though they belonged there.

From behind, they looked like a family.

A dry chuckle escaped me before I could stop it. “The child needs a father figure, huh?” My voice was steady, empty. “Then spend more time with them, Alpha.”

Cassian stopped in his tracks. His grip on my arm was immediate, almost desperate. His eyes bore into mine, searching for something—anything.

“Selene,” he murmured, his voice raw, uncertain. “Why don’t you care anymore?”

Why don’t I care anymore?

Because caring had become exhausting. Because loving him had drained me until there was nothing left.

The first real crack had appeared long ago. I just hadn’t wanted to see it.

The Alpha Gala photos that had landed in my inbox a few weeks ago should have been my breaking point. The images of Cassian and Sienna, standing too close, his hand lingering at the small of her back.

But I hadn’t confronted him.

I hadn’t said anything at all.

That night, when Cassian finally came to bed, I had simply turned away.

That was the moment I knew.

I didn’t need to leave Cassian.

Because I had already let him go.