My Alpha Planned to Reject Me at the Gala

The leather folder in my hands felt heavier than it looked, but the weight was a comfort. Inside lay the signed trade agreement with the Northern Timber Pack—a deal my father, Alpha Marcus of Stone Creek, had said was impossible. I had spent three months negotiating tariffs, soothing egos, and leveraging my family’s reputation to secure it. This wasn’t just paper; it was prosperity for the Silverclaw Pack. It was proof that I, Aria Stone, was more than just a political ornament.

I smoothed the front of my silk dress, my heart fluttering with a naive, pathetic hope. Maybe this would be enough. Maybe today, when I placed this victory on Alpha Damian’s desk, he would finally look at me with something other than indifference. Maybe he would see his Luna.

I reached for the heavy oak handle of his office door, but my hand froze mid-air.

A low, guttural groan vibrated through the wood, followed by a high-pitched, breathy giggle. The sound was like a serrated knife dragging across my skin.

“Damian, stop… someone might hear,” a female voice whispered, though she didn’t sound like she wanted him to stop at all.

“Let them hear,” Damian’s voice rumbled, dripping with an arrogance that used to make my knees weak. Now, it just made my stomach turn. “I’m the Alpha. I do what I want. And what I want is you, Callie.”

Callie. The name tasted like bile. She was a Gamma’s daughter—young, ambitious, and possessing a kind of desperate hunger that men like Damian mistook for passion. I knew he had been spending time with her, claiming it was for "pack morale," but I had forced myself to look away. I had trusted the bond. The Moon Goddess didn’t make mistakes.

I leaned closer to the crack in the door, holding my breath.

Through the sliver of space, I saw them. Callie was perched on the edge of his mahogany desk—the same desk where I handled the pack’s finances every morning. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her fingers tangled in his dark hair. The scent of them—arousal, musk, and cheap vanilla perfume—assaulted my nose, overpowering my own scent of rain and jasmine.

“But Aria…” Callie pouted, tracing a finger down his chest. “She’s your fated mate. The Elders say—”

“The Elders are old fools, and Aria is a frigid statue,” Damian interrupted, his voice harsh. “She’s a political asset, nothing more. A bridge to her father’s territory. Do you know what it’s like to be bedded by a spreadsheet, Callie? There is no fire.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, hot and humiliating. I bit my lip until I tasted iron.

“I’m going to end it,” Damian continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial growl. “At the Winter Solstice Gala. I’ll reject her publicly. Once the bond is severed, I’ll mark you. You’ll be the Luna this pack deserves.”

The folder slipped from my numb fingers, hitting the carpet with a soft thud. Inside the room, the movement went unnoticed, drowned out by the sound of their lips meeting again.

I didn’t burst in. I didn’t scream. I didn’t shift into my wolf and tear Callie’s throat out, though my inner wolf, usually so quiet, was howling in agony, scratching at the walls of my mind. Instead, I bent down, picked up the trade agreement, and walked away.

With every step down the long, portrait-lined hallway, something inside me fractured. But as the pieces settled, they didn’t dissolve. They hardened. Cold, sharp, and dangerous.

***

Three hours later, I sat in the darkness of the guest bedroom, the blue light of my laptop illuminating my dry eyes. I hadn’t shed a tear since the hallway. Cryng was for wives. I was no longer a wife; I was a casualty of war.

I logged into the encrypted network known as "She-Wolf Confidential." It was a digital underground—a place where Omegas vented about their Alphas, where Rogues traded secrets, and where ambitious social climbers looked for shortcuts.

My fingers hovered over the search bar. I didn’t have to look hard. The post was trending near the top, tagged with #AlphaProblems and #FutureLuna.

**User: FutureLuna_C**

*"Urgent help needed!! My Alpha is going to reject his fated mate for me (I know, true love wins!) but I’m scared. I’m not high-ranked, and I don’t have the mate bond to help me handle his aura. Sometimes when he uses his Alpha Voice, I feel like peeing myself. How do I make him obsessed with me so he never looks back at her? I need to secure the bag before the Solstice!"*

It was pathetic. It was transparent. It was perfect.

Callie wasn’t just ambitious; she was terrified. She knew she was punching above her weight class. She knew that without the fated bond, Damian’s dominance would eventually crush her human spirit. She was looking for a lifeline.

I cracked my knuckles. The trade agreement sat on the nightstand, useless. Diplomacy was dead. It was time for espionage.

I created a new account. No profile picture. Just a silhouette.

**Username: The Matriarch**

**Bio:** *I have tamed Alphas who make yours look like a puppy. I know the secrets the Moon Goddess tries to hide.*

I opened a private chat with FutureLuna_C.

*"My dear child,"* I typed, my fingers flying across the keys. *"You are right to be afraid. The bond is powerful. Even if he rejects her, his wolf will always pine for his true mate... unless you break his wolf first."*

The reply came instantly.

*"Break his wolf? That sounds dangerous. Who are you?"*

*"I am someone who sees your potential,"* I lied smoothly. *"The Alpha aura is just energy. You feel weak because you are submitting to it. If you want to be his Luna, you cannot just be his lover. You must be his master in the one place he allows himself to be vulnerable."*

*"The bedroom?"* Callie asked.

*"Precisely. I can teach you the Old Ways. Techniques that will make him dependent on you, that will make him forget he ever had a fated mate. But you must do exactly as I say. Total obedience. Can you handle that?"*

I watched the three dots of her typing bubble dance on the screen. I could almost see her biting her lip, her greed warring with her fear. Greed won.

*"Teach me,"* she wrote. *"I'll do anything to keep him."*

A dark, humorless smile touched my lips. "Anything," I whispered to the empty room.

Damian wanted a fire? I would burn his entire world to ash, and I would use his own little spark to light the match.