Choose Between Two Alphas

“Natasha, I’ll be away for a few days. There’s an Alpha council with the Northern Packs,” Jonathan said gently, placing a lingering kiss on my forehead as though he were the devoted mate he pretended to be. “I’ll think about you the whole time.”

I gave him a tight, practiced smile. “Safe travels… my Alpha.”

His laugh was soft but knowing. He recognized the rare formality in my tone. I never called him “Alpha” unless we were fighting—he always used to tease me about that. But maybe he didn’t mind this time. Maybe he thought I’d finally softened.

As soon as his SUV disappeared between the dense evergreens, I turned away and began my real mission.

I had spent the last few days carefully studying his habits, identifying where he kept the things he didn’t want anyone to see. Alpha Jonathan Marsh was a master of secrets—and the biggest ones were locked away in the vault beneath the Packhouse. A place only he frequented. The code? Janine’s birthday. A name that had haunted my past and poisoned my present.

I typed it in with a steady hand. A soft click rewarded my guess.

Inside lay neat, damning piles—proof that would rip open everything he had built.

The first file was the worst: medical contracts. Official documents outlining the sacrifice of my mother’s heart… for Janine’s sister. Signed forms approving a forbidden organ ritual—none of which bore my signature. I wasn’t consulted. I was robbed.

My claws nearly pierced through the paper, my vision darkening. Jonathan had arranged this. He had condemned my mother and gifted her very heart to another woman. Then he had marked me, masked himself as my mate, and stood by me during the grief he orchestrated.

Pushing the medical documents aside, I picked up another bundle: financial records. At first glance, they seemed like standard expenses—pack-related costs—but I saw through them now. They weren’t investments. They were offerings.

Exquisite jewelry. High-end gowns. Lavish resort bills.

All of it... for Janine.

Then came a folder filled with receipts tied to me—simple things: a charm bracelet, a modest ring, a bouquet here and there. I'd once clung to them as tokens of love. But now they looked like hush gifts. Cheap covers for a bigger lie.

A bitter laugh clawed its way up my throat. I had been the stand-in. The convenient mate. The political pawn.

But I didn’t crumble. My fingers shook with fury, not fear. I pulled out my phone and took photos—evidence of every betrayal, every lie he hoped would stay buried.

One final folder lay at the bottom—heavy and thick, labeled “Future Assets.” Inside were deeds, financial plans, and insurance policies... all aligned to ensure Janine’s future was secure. Not mine. Not ours.

I snapped pictures of that too, then quietly closed the vault, ensuring everything looked untouched. I didn’t even glance back at the place I once believed was my home. I was already gone in spirit.

The moon hung low in the sky when I arrived at the home of the Gamma—the oldest, most respected member of our pack.

“Luna Natasha?” he said, clearly surprised. “This is… unexpected.”

“I need your help with something rare,” I said. “A severance ritual.”

His expression turned grave. “Severance? That ritual hasn’t been performed in decades. It’s strictly—”

“I know it’s forbidden,” I interrupted, my tone unwavering. “But I want my bond with Alpha Jonathan severed. I know you store the Alpha’s blood for healing rites. I need it—for this.”

He stared at me for a moment, searching my eyes. Then he nodded. “If you’re sure, then all I need is your blood mixed with his. It’s a powerful ritual—permanent.”

He brought the vials, and I let my blood drip into the vessel. The mixture shimmered briefly, then darkened. The bond—what was once the tie between our souls—was being broken.

When it was done, I thanked him and left, my resolve colder than ever.

My next stop was a little-known structure hidden near rogue territory. It had no sign, barely any lighting, and looked abandoned. But I knew better.

Inside, the air smelled like damp stone and burnt sage. A man sat behind a desk, his features hidden beneath a hood. His scent was peculiar—muted and hard to place.

“I need a clean break,” I told him. “A full disappearance.”

His lips curved into a slow, intrigued grin. “You’re not the first to come here with that request. Why should I help you?”

I dropped a bundle of cash onto the table. Thick, unmarked bills.

He chuckled. “Now we’re speaking the same language.”

He beckoned for me to follow him. Behind a curtain, a room full of glowing screens showed identities wiped clean, faces blurred beyond recognition.

“This is how it works,” he explained. “We fake a death—yours. Rogue attack, drowning, your call. After that, we issue you a new identity and place you somewhere even the strongest trackers can’t find.”

My wolf stirred inside me, agitated and fierce.

Natasha, this isn't right. I don’t want to hide. I want retribution.

I didn’t answer her. Not yet.