My Alpha Replaced Me Until His Rival Claimed Me

Scarlet moved into the Luna quarters like a queen taking a throne.

Logan told me about it over the phone, his voice tired. She had my old curtains torn down on the first day. The cream linen I chose went out. Gold velvet came in. She hung a crystal chandelier over the bed, so big the ceiling cracked.

"She hosts brunch every morning," he said. "Champagne towers. Pack wives in hats. It's like a wedding that never ends."

"And the patrol meetings?"

He was quiet for a moment. "She skipped them. When Captain Reyes introduced himself, she called him Ryan. Twice."

I almost smiled. Reyes had three kids. His youngest had asthma. I used to send a humidifier to his house every winter.

It got worse. The Redwater envoy came to talk about fishing rights on the river. Scarlet served him shellfish. His whole pack is allergic. I had that written on a card in my desk drawer, in the second folder, under R.

She went to watch warrior training once. One sparring wolf bled on the mat, and she screamed and ran inside.

Then there were the Omegas.

"She made Marisol scrub the foyer floor on her knees," Logan said. "Marisol's daughter has a fever. When Marisol asked to leave early, Scarlet threw a cup of coffee at the wall beside her head."

My grip tightened on the phone. I had set up the daycare room for the Omega pups. I had fought Hudson for the heating money in their cabins. He had signed the check without reading it, like he signed everything I put in front of him.

"People are talking," Logan said. "They say, 'Daniella would never.' They say it a lot."

"And Hudson?"

"He says the bond will fix it. He says fated mates settle in time." Logan sighed. "He says it like a prayer, Dani. He still isn't sleeping."

I hung up. It wasn't my house anymore. It wasn't my problem.

But I still thought of Marisol's daughter, and I hated that I did.

***

At Silverfang, the day started before the sun.

Alpha Reese Carter ran the mountain trails himself. Every morning at five, he was waiting at the tree line in a gray T-shirt, breath steaming in the cold.

"You're late," he said on the first day.

"It's four fifty-nine."

"Then you're early. I'll adjust my expectations."

The first week nearly killed me. Five years of suppressants had left my body weak and slow. My lungs burned on the climbs. In combat drills, his warriors knocked me flat over and over. A Delta named Jonah pinned me so hard my ribs creaked.

Reese never helped me up. He just waited until I stood on my own.

I liked that more than I expected.

By the second week, I stopped falling. By the third, I put Jonah on the mat.

And my wolf was waking up.

I felt her every morning, pacing under my skin. She stretched. She tested the air. Without the perfume, without the pills, my own scent came back slowly. It was like a song I used to know.

Wild lavender. Warm valerian. Mine.

The first time Reese caught it, we were in his study at midnight. Maps covered the table. I was pointing out a weak spot on the Ironveil ridge, my thumb rubbing the bare skin on the side of my neck like it always did when I was thinking.

He leaned closer to look. Then he went still.

His eyes flickered gold. Just for a second.

And I heard it. It was a low, soft whine, coming from deep in his chest.

He stepped back fast. He cleared his throat and rubbed his jaw.

"Sorry," he said. "Long day. We've been working too close."

"Is your wolf all right?"

"He's fine." He wouldn't look at me. "Show me the ridge again."

I showed him. But I noticed he stayed on the far side of the table after that. And I noticed his hand was clenched tight on the edge of it, knuckles white.

***

The letter from his mother came on a Thursday.

Reese read it standing by the window. Then he crumpled it and threw it in the fire.

"Victoria Carter wants a date," he said flatly. "For my mating ceremony. With Chloe Whitmore."

I had met Chloe once, years ago, at a gala. She spent ten minutes telling me which packs had "dirty blood."

"You don't want her."

"I'd rather mate a cactus." He dropped into his chair. "But Whitmore guards our southern border. If I reject his daughter outright, it's an insult. My mother knows that. She's had me boxed in for a year."

I looked at the map. Then at him.

"The council meets next week," I said. "Pack law says an Alpha's own choice comes first. If you present a chosen companion, the arranged mating dissolves. No insult. Whitmore can blame fate, not you."

He stared at me. "You'd need someone to play that part."

"I've had practice."

The words came out sharper than I meant. He heard it. His face changed, something soft and angry at the same time.

"I'm not him," he said quietly.

"I know. That's why I'm offering." I folded my arms. "It's strategy. You get your freedom. I get a real place in this pack, not a borrowed one. No marking. No sharing a bed. We end it when it stops being useful."

"And you keep your own scent," he said. "No perfume. Nobody's ghost."

My throat went tight. I hadn't expected that.

"Deal," I said.

He held out his hand. I took it.

His palm was warm. Too warm. Something sparked under my skin, small and bright, right where our hands met. My wolf pushed forward so suddenly I almost gasped.

Neither of us let go right away.

Neither of us said a word about it.

Outside, the moon was almost full.