My Alpha Chose His Mistress Over His Wolfless Luna

The attic felt smaller after Samson left. I sat by the window, phone hidden in my palm, watching the taillights disappear down the drive. Julien and Mya, off to play Alpha and Luna at the Regional Summit while I rotted in their silver cage.

Except I wasn't rotting. I was waiting.

The phone buzzed against my skin. Elena's message was brief: *In position. Awaiting your signal.*

I pulled up the security footage one more time. Watched Mya's hands rifle through my jewelry box, her fingers closing around the Lycan necklace like she had any right to touch it. The timestamp glowed in the corner—clear, undeniable proof.

My wolf stirred despite the silver's drain. Not long now.

I sent the command: *Go.*

---

I couldn't see the summit hall, but I didn't need to. I could picture it perfectly—the grand ballroom at the Riverside Hotel, crystal chandeliers throwing light across polished marble, Alphas and Lunas in their finest. Mya would be there, preening in her stolen dress and my stolen necklace, playing the role she'd been rehearsing for months.

The phone buzzed again. Elena's update came through in fragments:

*Footage playing now.*

*Multiple screens.*

*She's trying to leave the stage.*

*Someone's blocking her path.*

I pressed my forehead against the cold window glass. Wished I could see Mya's face when the entire regional pack leadership watched her commit theft in high definition.

Then: *Blood Moon Alpha's daughter just stood up. She's demanding the necklace back. Says she recognizes the royal insignias.*

Colette. I'd met her once, years ago, at a border negotiation. Sharp eyes, sharper tongue, zero tolerance for weakness or dishonesty. If she'd recognized the Lycan symbols, she'd know exactly what that necklace represented. And exactly how far beneath Mya it was.

*Julien's trying to smooth it over,* Elena sent. *Not working. Colette just announced Blood Moon is severing their alliance with Silverfang.*

I closed my eyes. Felt the satisfaction roll through me like heat.

The Blood Moon alliance had been Silverfang's strongest tie. Warrior training programs, shared border patrols, trade agreements worth millions. Julien had spent three years building that relationship.

Gone in three minutes.

*They're leaving,* Elena's message continued. *Julien looks—*

The phone went dark. Battery dead.

I stared at the blank screen, then tucked it under the mattress. Didn't matter. I'd seen enough.

Now I just had to wait for Julien to come home.

---

The packhouse exploded with noise around eleven.

Car doors slamming. Voices raised, sharp with panic and anger. Footsteps thundering through the main hall. I moved to the attic door, pressed my ear against the wood despite the silver's burn.

"—complete disaster—"

"—Blood Moon pulled everything—"

"—how did that footage even get there—"

Then Julien's voice, cutting through the chaos like a blade: "Get Marcus. Get all the Elders. Emergency meeting. Now."

My wolf rose, pushing against the silver's weight. This was it. The moment he'd been planning, just accelerated by desperation and humiliation.

He was going to reject me tonight.

Footsteps on the attic stairs. Heavy, fast, furious. The door flew open and Julien filled the frame, still in his summit suit, tie loosened, face flushed with rage.

"You," he snarled. "You did this."

I stayed by the window. Didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

"Did what?"

"Don't play innocent." He crossed the room in three strides, and I felt the mate bond twist, corrupted and sick. "That footage. The security breach. You sabotaged us."

"I've been locked in an attic for three days," I said. Kept my voice level. "How exactly would I manage that?"

"You're more cunning than you look." His hand shot out, gripping my arm hard enough to bruise. "But it doesn't matter anymore. I'm done with you. Done with your poison, your bad luck, your pathetic weakness."

The silver burned where his fingers pressed into my skin, but I met his eyes. Saw the fear beneath the anger. He was terrified. His pack was crumbling and he had no idea why.

"The Elders are gathering," he said. "We're making this official. I'm rejecting you. Stripping your title. You'll leave Silverfang territory tonight as an Omega, or you can stay and serve in the kitchens. Your choice."

He released me, stepped back. The mate bond pulsed between us, sick and dying.

"Mya will be Luna by morning," he continued. "She's what this pack needs. Strong. Loyal. Not some wolfless liability who can't even—"

"I'll come to the meeting," I said.

He stopped. Stared at me.

"What?"

"You want to reject me in front of the Elders? Fine." I touched the base of my throat, felt my wolf stir beneath the silver's weight. "I'll be there."

Something flickered in his eyes. Uncertainty, maybe. Or suspicion.

But his pride wouldn't let him back down. Not now.

"Good," he said. "Makes it cleaner. Ten minutes. Main hall."

He turned and left, the door slamming behind him. The lock didn't click this time. He wanted me to come down on my own. Wanted me to walk into my own execution.

I moved to the window one last time. Looked out over the pack grounds, the forest beyond, the road leading away from Silverfang territory.

Then I straightened my shoulders. Let my wolf rise, silver be damned.

Time to show them what a wolfless liability could do.