Make the Alpha Regret

The Bloodmoon Packhouse radiated opulence, a reflection of Marguerite’s careful planning for her son’s engagement celebration. The grand ballroom was alive with pack members and allies, all adorned in their most elegant attire. Damien’s mother had spared no expense, intent on securing Selene’s place as the future Luna.

Amid the lively festivities, Lillith remained unnoticed, concealed in the shadows. Her headscarf obscured her identity, while Mira’s specially crafted potions masked her scent. She lingered at the edge of the crowd, her sharp gaze sweeping across the room, her heart burdened by the betrayal she had suffered.

“Lillith, if anyone recognizes you…” Mira whispered anxiously, gripping her arm. “They won’t hesitate to tear you apart. Everyone believes Damien sent you away on vacation.”

A bitter smile played on Lillith’s lips. “Vacation?” she echoed mockingly. “Funny how betrayal comes with its own perks now.”

As she observed the guests laughing and mingling, fragments of conversation drifted to her ears.

“Have you heard about the royal family’s bounty?” a woman murmured to her companion.

“Yes,” a man responded, lowering his voice. “They’re desperate to track down the prince’s murderer. Victor may have been a disgrace, but his death humiliated the kingdom.”

“Calling him a disgrace is putting it lightly,” another voice interjected. “He squandered fortunes on gambling and left a trail of broken hearts. Honestly, his death feels like poetic justice.”

The mention of the prince’s name sent a chill down Lillith’s spine. Even here, she couldn’t escape the memory of her eldest brother’s tragic fate. Though Victor had treated her cruelly in the past and had indeed lived scandalously, she couldn't decide whether he truly deserved to be murdered.

She clenched her fists, forcing herself to focus on the present.

“Selene is everything a Luna should be—strong, elegant, and from a noble bloodline. Lillith was always… so ordinary.”

Lillith’s hands tightened into fists, their words slicing through the fragile remnants of her dignity. Even Marguerite, Damien’s mother, joined in the ridicule, her voice carrying effortlessly over the murmurs.

“I never approved of Lillith,” Marguerite declared, sipping her champagne. “She was never worthy of our family. Selene, on the other hand, will give us the Alpha heir we rightfully deserve.”

As if to emphasize her words, the older woman turned to Selene, who stood gracefully beside Damien. “Selene, my dear,” she said, affectionately resting a hand on her future daughter-in-law’s arm, “I look forward to my grandchild. I trust you’ll conceive the Alpha heir soon.”

Selene smiled demurely, but for Lillith, the words cut deep. A wave of grief and fury washed over her as memories of her own lost child resurfaced—an unbearable reminder of what had been stolen from her. She clutched her stomach, nails digging into her palms in a desperate attempt to steady herself.

“Lillith,” Mira whispered urgently, her grip tightening in alarm.

She tugged at Lillith’s arm. “Please, let’s go. You don’t have to do this.”

But Lillith pulled away. “No,” she said, her voice low but brimming with resolve. “I’ve had enough. If they wish to celebrate, I’ll give them something unforgettable.”

At that moment, something inside her snapped. Her vision blurred, not with tears, but with unrelenting fury.

She stepped forward, and as her scarf slipped slightly, a hush fell over the crowd. Murmurs and gasps replaced the chatter as recognition dawned on them.

“Lillith?”

“I thought she was on vacation!”

“What is she doing here?”

"Way to ruin the celebration..."

Damien was at her side in an instant, his expression a volatile mix of disbelief and anger.

“Lillith,” he hissed. “Why are you here? You told me you were leaving today.”

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Did I? I must have changed my mind.” Her eyes swept across the ballroom. “What’s this gathering for, Alpha? You never mentioned it when you so kindly suggested I take a vacation.”

Before Damien could respond, Marguerite stepped forward, her expression twisting into a sneer.

“Yes, Lillith, you’re not welcome here,” she snapped. “Can’t you see this event isn’t meant for a lowly omega like you?”

Lillith straightened her shoulders, her voice steady and cutting. “I wasn’t aware that an omega—who also happened to be the Alpha’s longtime partner—needed permission to attend her own pack’s celebration. Or does that rule apply only to me?”

The tension in the ballroom thickened as the two women locked gazes.

“You’ve always been insolent,” Marguerite spat. “What else can we expect from a she-wolf of such lowly origins? Are you truly so desperate for my son’s wealth and status?”

“Don’t project your greed onto me, old hag,” Lillith retorted, her voice laced with sarcasm.

A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd as Marguerite’s face darkened with fury.

“How dare you speak to me that way?” she seethed before raising her hand and striking Lillith across the face.

Lillith staggered but refused to fall. She straightened, her eyes locking onto Marguerite’s with icy determination.

“You can hit me all you want, Marguerite,” she said, her tone cold and unwavering, “but that won’t change the fact that you’re nothing more than a greedy old hag.”

Marguerite’s rage was palpable, her voice trembling as she turned to Damien. “I want her banished, Damien! Banish her this instant! Guards, remove this insolent omega from my sight!”

The guards moved swiftly, gripping Lillith’s arms, ready to drag her away. But before they could take another step, an elderly man in the corner let out a startled gasp.

“By the Moon Goddess!” he exclaimed, his voice ringing through the silence. “The princess with the ice bloodline has been revealed!”

All eyes snapped toward him as he held up a newspaper, his hands trembling. On the front page was a portrait of a regal-looking woman—her features bearing an unmistakable resemblance to Lillith’s.

The ballroom erupted into chaos, whispers flying as the guests turned to compare the image to the defiant woman standing in their midst.

“Oh my goddess! Doesn’t this look exactly like Lillith?”