Goodbye, Alpha!

Three days passed in a haze of whispered conversations and pitying glances. I hadn't left my parents' small cottage since the rejection ceremony, couldn't bear to face the pack members who had witnessed my humiliation. My wolf remained silent, buried so deep within me that I wondered if she'd ever surface again.

The knock on our door came at precisely noon, sharp and authoritative. My mother answered, her face paling when she saw who stood on our threshold.

"Aria Winters is summoned to the Alpha's study immediately," the Beta announced, his tone leaving no room for argument.

My father's jaw tightened. "She's still recovering from—"

"Now," the Beta interrupted, his eyes cold. "Former Alpha Elias is waiting."

The walk to the pack house felt like a death march. Pack members stopped their conversations to stare as I passed, some with curiosity, others with barely concealed contempt. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground, my hands clenched so tightly my nails drew blood from my palms.

Elias Blackwood's study was a monument to power—dark wood paneling, hunting trophies mounted on the walls, and shelves lined with ancient pack histories. The former Alpha sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his steel-gray eyes—so much like his son's—appraising me with calculating coldness.

"Sit," he commanded without preamble.

I perched on the edge of the leather chair across from him, my spine rigid. The silence stretched between us like a taut wire, and I forced myself not to fidget under his scrutiny.

"The pack is talking," he finally said, his voice carrying the same authoritative rumble that had commanded respect for decades. "About my son's... display three nights ago."

Heat flooded my cheeks. "I'm sorry for any embarrassment I may have caused—"

"You misunderstand." His tone cut through my apology like a blade. "I don't care about your feelings, girl. I care about political stability."

He stood and moved to the window, his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out at the pack grounds. "Damien may be Alpha now, but he's young, impulsive. The neighboring packs are watching, waiting for any sign of weakness. An unmated Alpha is a vulnerable Alpha."

My stomach clenched with dread. "What does this have to do with me?"

Elias turned back to me, and the smile that crossed his face was devoid of warmth. "Everything, my dear. You see, despite my son's theatrical rejection, the Moon Goddess has still marked you as his mate. That bond, broken or not, carries weight in the supernatural community."

He returned to his desk and pulled out a thick document, sliding it across the polished surface toward me. "This is a contract marriage proposal. You will become Luna in name, providing the political stability our pack requires. In return, you'll receive a comfortable living arrangement and protection under pack law."

I stared at the papers as if they might burst into flames. "You want me to marry Damien? After what he did?"

"Want has nothing to do with it," Elias replied, settling back into his chair. "This is about necessity. Read the terms."

With trembling hands, I picked up the contract. Each clause felt like a slap to the face:

*The Luna-in-name shall not interfere with the Alpha's personal relationships or romantic entanglements.*

*The Luna-in-name shall not claim conjugal rights or expect marital intimacy.*

*The Luna-in-name shall perform ceremonial duties only and shall not exercise actual Luna authority over pack matters.*

*This arrangement may be dissolved at the Alpha's discretion with thirty days' notice.*

The words blurred as tears I refused to shed burned my eyes. "This is humiliating. You're asking me to be a puppet, a placeholder while your son continues his affair with that human."

"I'm offering you a chance to serve your pack," Elias corrected, his voice hardening. "Something your parents have done faithfully for years, despite their... lowly status."

I set the contract down with shaking hands. "No. I won't do this. I won't be degraded any further for your political games."

Elias's expression didn't change, but something dangerous flickered in his eyes. "That's unfortunate. I was hoping you'd be reasonable." He opened a desk drawer and pulled out another file. "Your brother Leo is quite ill, isn't he? Leukemia, if I recall correctly."

The blood drained from my face. "What does Leo have to do with anything?"

"The pack's medical fund has been covering his treatments at the specialized facility in the city. Quite expensive, I'm told. Without pack support..." He shrugged, the gesture casual and devastating. "Well, I'm sure your parents' savings from their kitchen work will be sufficient."

The room spun around me. Leo was only fourteen, had been fighting this disease for two years. The treatments were the only thing keeping him alive, and they cost more than my parents made in a decade.

"You're threatening my brother's life," I whispered, the words barely audible.

"I'm simply explaining the realities of pack membership," Elias replied smoothly. "Members in good standing receive full benefits. Those who... fall out of favor... well, resources are limited."

I thought of Leo's pale face the last time I'd visited him, how he'd tried to smile despite the pain, how he'd whispered that he was scared. My parents had already sacrificed everything for his care, working double shifts, selling our few possessions.

"If I sign this," I said slowly, "Leo's treatments continue?"

"Of course. As Luna, even a ceremonial one, your family's status would be secure."

I stared at the contract, each word a chain that would bind me to a life of humiliation and loneliness. But Leo's face swam before my eyes—his trusting smile, his quiet courage in the face of an illness that should never touch someone so young.

"I need a pen," I said, my voice hollow.

Elias smiled and slid an expensive fountain pen across the desk. My hand trembled as I signed my name at the bottom of each page, sealing my fate with black ink.

"Excellent," Elias said, gathering the papers. "The ceremony will be held tomorrow evening. Nothing elaborate—we wouldn't want to overshadow the... practical nature of this arrangement."

I stood on unsteady legs, feeling like I'd just sold my soul. "Will Damien even agree to this?"

"My son will do his duty," Elias replied with cold certainty. "As will you."

The next evening arrived with unseasonable rain, as if the sky itself wept for what was about to unfold. I stood in the pack house's small ceremonial room, wearing the same white dress from my eighteenth birthday—my parents couldn't afford another. The irony wasn't lost on me.

Damien entered wearing a black suit, his face a mask of barely controlled disgust. He wouldn't meet my eyes as Elder Marcus began the abbreviated ceremony, his words rushing through the sacred vows as if he couldn't wait to be done with this farce.

"Do you, Damien Blackwood, take Aria Winters as your contracted Luna?" Elder Marcus asked, his voice heavy with reluctance.

"I do," Damien replied, the words clipped and cold.

"Do you, Aria Winters, take Damien Blackwood as your contracted Alpha?"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came. Leo's face flashed before my eyes, and I forced the words out. "I do."

The rings were simple bands, nothing like the elaborate ceremony I'd dreamed of as a little girl. Damien's touch was brief and impersonal as he slipped the ring onto my finger, his skin cold against mine.

"You may kiss the bride," Elder Marcus said reluctantly.

Damien's jaw tightened. Instead of a kiss, he merely pressed his lips to my forehead for the briefest moment, the gesture so perfunctory it felt more like a dismissal than a wedding kiss.

"It's done," he said, stepping back immediately.

The small gathering of witnesses—mostly pack officials required for legal purposes—offered polite but hollow congratulations. Through the crowd, I caught sight of Serena standing in the doorway, her blue eyes bright with satisfaction. She wore a knowing smile that made my stomach churn.

Damien moved toward her the moment the ceremony concluded, not sparing me another glance. I watched as he took her hand and led her from the room, leaving me standing alone in my wedding dress, surrounded by people who couldn't wait to escape the awkwardness of the situation.

That night, I sat in the Luna suite wearing the white silk nightgown my mother had given me with tears in her eyes. The room was beautiful—cream-colored walls, antique furniture, a four-poster bed that could have come from a fairy tale. But it felt like a gilded cage.

I waited, listening for footsteps in the hallway, for the sound of the door opening. Midnight came and went. Then one o'clock. Two.

Damien never came home.

Through the window, I could see lights on in the building across the courtyard—Serena's apartment, provided by the pack for their "honored guest." I knew without being told that's where my husband had gone, where he would spend our wedding night and likely every night after.

I finally understood the true nature of my new life: I would be Luna in name only, a ghost haunting the edges of someone else's love story, forever bound to a man who saw me as nothing more than a political necessity.

The white nightgown felt like a mockery as I finally gave up waiting and crawled into the enormous bed alone, the silk cold against my skin and the silence of the room echoing with all the dreams I'd just buried.