My Alpha Husband Gave My Inheritance to His Foster Sister

I woke before the sun came up. That was normal now. The pack house was quiet, and the silence felt safer than anything that came after dawn.

I slipped out of bed without waking Chandler. He was on his side, one arm flung across the pillow where I used to sleep close to him. I didn't sleep close anymore. I told myself it was because he ran hot at night. The truth was harder to name.

Downstairs, I started the coffee and pulled out the oatmeal for Wells. He liked it with sliced bananas and a drizzle of honey. I cut the fruit thin and arranged it in a little spiral on top. It was silly, maybe, but he always smiled when he saw it. That smile was worth the extra two minutes.

While the oatmeal cooled, I opened the pack's shared financial app on my phone. I did this every morning now. It was the only way to know what was happening with our money. Chandler controlled the accounts. He said it was simpler that way. Cleaner. One person managing everything meant no confusion.

But I kept a notebook. I tracked every expense down to the last dollar. It was the only record I had.

This morning, a new charge sat at the top of the list. Nine hundred dollars. Posted yesterday. The merchant name was a luxury outerwear retailer I recognized from the ads in the magazines Shay always left on our coffee table. The shipping address was hers.

I stared at the screen. My hand tightened around the phone.

That nine hundred dollars came out of the $800 monthly stipend I'd earmarked for Wells. School supplies. Winter boots. Activity fees. The boots he had now were splitting at the sole. I'd been waiting for the stipend to clear so I could take him to get new ones before the snow came.

I set the phone down on the counter. My fingers found the dish towel hanging by the sink. I smoothed it once. Twice. Three times.

My wolf stirred faintly in the back of my mind. She was always so quiet now. She used to be louder. I remembered that. But the years had worn her down, and she barely surfaced anymore.

"Mom?"

I turned. Wells stood in the doorway in his pajamas, rubbing his eyes. His hair stuck up on one side. He was six years old and small for his age. Chandler said he'd grow into his wolf. I wasn't sure Chandler had noticed how small Wells still was.

"Morning, sweetheart," I said. I smiled. It came easier with him. "Your oatmeal's ready."

He climbed into his chair and looked at the bowl. The banana spiral made him grin. "It's a snail."

"It is," I agreed. I poured myself coffee and sat across from him. I didn't make myself breakfast. I wasn't hungry.

I heard Chandler's footsteps on the stairs a few minutes later. He came into the kitchen already dressed, his phone in one hand. He was a big man. Broad shoulders. Strong jaw. The kind of presence that filled a room. When we first met, I thought that presence was confidence. Now I knew it was something else.

He poured himself coffee without looking at me. "I've got a meeting with the Beta at nine," he said. "I'll be back this afternoon."

"Chandler," I said quietly. I kept my voice even. Calm. "Can we talk about the stipend?"

He paused mid-sip. His eyes flicked to me. "What about it?"

I pulled my notebook from the drawer and opened it to the page where I'd written down Wells's expenses. "There was a charge yesterday. Nine hundred dollars. It went to Shay's address. But that money was for Wells. His school fees are overdue, and his boots are falling apart."

Chandler set his mug down. Slowly. His shoulders widened. I saw him draw a breath through his nose. That breath. I knew what it meant.

"Elodie." His voice dropped into that tone. The Alpha tone. It pressed against my chest like a hand. My wolf whimpered and curled inward. "Shay needed a coat. It's October. It's cold. She's family. Family is supported. Do you understand that?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The tone held me in place.

"You spent a hundred dollars on boots for yourself last month," he continued. His voice was rising now. "A hundred dollars. And now you're complaining about supporting someone who's been part of this pack longer than you have? That's selfish, Elodie. That's materialistic."

Wells's spoon clinked against his bowl. He wasn't eating anymore. He was staring at his oatmeal.

I smoothed the dish towel in my lap. Once. Twice. Three times.

"I just thought—" I started.

"End of discussion," Chandler said. He picked up his mug and walked out.

I sat there for a long time after he left. Wells finished his oatmeal in silence. I walked him to the bus stop and watched him climb on. He didn't wave. He used to wave.

That evening, Shay came by.

She let herself in through the side door. She always did that. Chandler had given her a key years ago. She said it was easier than knocking. I was in the dining room, adjusting the centerpiece I'd spent two hours making for the Thanksgiving gathering next week. Fresh pine branches, white candles, tiny gourds I'd painted by hand. It looked warm. Homey.

Shay walked in wearing the coat. It was beautiful. Long and tailored, a soft charcoal gray with silver buttons. She saw me looking and smiled brightly.

"Do you like it?" she asked. She did a little spin. "Chandler surprised me. He's so thoughtful."

I didn't answer. I turned back to the centerpiece and moved one of the candles half an inch to the left.

Shay leaned against the doorway and tilted her head. "That's really pretty, Elodie. Very homemade. It's so sweet that you do it all yourself."

Chandler appeared behind her. He smiled at Shay. "It looks great," he said. Then he looked at me. "Can you bring Shay some tea?"

I nodded. I went to the kitchen. I made the tea. I brought it out on a tray with honey and lemon, the way Shay liked it. She thanked me without looking up from her phone.

After she left, I sat alone at the kitchen table. I opened my notebook to the page where I tracked Wells's diverted funds. I added the $900 coat to the list. Then I flipped back through the months. June. July. August. September. October.

Three thousand, two hundred dollars. Redirected. Spent on someone else.

I circled the number. My hand was steady.

My wolf was silent.

I closed the notebook and sat in the dark.