My Alpha Stole My Wolf to Control Me Forever

I should've known something was wrong when the chandeliers started swaying.

The Alpha Summit hall was packed—hundreds of wolves from a dozen territories, all dressed in their finest, all watching me. Me. Halle Snyder, former warrior prodigy, current Head Trainer of the Silver Moon Pack. Well, about to be official, anyway.

My wheelchair gleamed under the stage lights. I'd polished it myself this morning, wanting everything perfect. Jonah had kissed my forehead before we left our quarters, told me how proud he was. Seven years together, and he still made my heart flutter with those little gestures.

Stupid. So incredibly stupid.

"Thank you all for this honor," I began, my voice steady despite my nerves. The microphone picked up every word, broadcasting through the mind-link network that connected every wolf in the room. "When I lost my legs seven years ago, I thought my warrior days were—"

Then the world exploded.

Not literally. Worse.

The mind-link—that sacred connection between pack members—suddenly flooded with sensations that weren't mine. A woman's moan, breathy and desperate. The slick sound of skin on skin. And a scent, thick and unmistakable, that hit my nose like a physical blow.

Arousal. Sex. Raw and animalistic.

The assembly erupted in chaos. Wolves covered their ears as if that would help, but you can't block a mind-link. It's in your head, in your bones. Some of the younger wolves looked confused. The mated pairs looked horrified.

I knew that scent.

Vanilla and pine. Jonah's scent, but twisted with something floral I recognized from my training sessions.

Briana.

The visual flash came next—just a split second, but enough. Jonah's hands gripping familiar hips. Briana's dark hair spilling across silk sheets. The VIP suite. Our VIP suite.

Someone killed the mind-link connection. The sudden silence felt like a slap.

Every eye in that hall turned to me. Pity. Disgust. Schadenfreude. I saw it all in those faces, and something inside me cracked.

My hands shook on the wheelchair controls. I didn't remember leaving the stage, but suddenly I was moving through the crowd, and they parted like I carried a disease. Maybe I did. Maybe humiliation was contagious.

The pack house hallways blurred past. My chair's motor whined as I pushed it faster than I should've. I didn't care. I needed to see him. Needed him to explain, to tell me it was some kind of mistake, some horrible technical glitch that had nothing to do with—

I stopped outside the Alpha's quarters. Our quarters. The door was cracked open.

Voices drifted out.

"You said you loved me." Briana's voice, thick with tears. "You said—"

"I said what I needed to say." Jonah's voice was cold. Clinical. Nothing like the warm tone he used with me. "Don't be naive, Briana. You're a means to an end. Strong bloodline, decent genetics. You'll give me healthy pups."

"What about Halle?"

A pause. Then a laugh. Sharp and cruel.

"My crippled prize? Please. I've kept her around for seven years waiting for her wolf to resurface. That bloodline is too valuable to waste, even if she's broken. But I'm done waiting. Tonight, she'll finally serve her purpose, legs or no legs."

The world tilted.

Seven years. Seven years of his gentle touches, his patient smiles, his promises that we'd get through this together. Seven years of believing I was lucky he stayed, that he loved me despite everything I'd lost.

All lies.

I slammed my chair into the door. It flew open, crashing against the wall.

Jonah stood by the window, still adjusting his shirt. Briana sat on the bed, mascara streaking her face. They both froze.

"Halle." Jonah's expression shifted, but not to guilt. To annoyance. Like I was a child interrupting adult conversation. "You should be resting."

"Resting." The word tasted like ash. "I just heard you call me your crippled prize."

"You weren't supposed to hear that." He moved toward me, and I saw it then—the calculation in his eyes. The same look he got when planning battle strategies. "But since you did, let's be honest. You're weak, Halle. You can't satisfy me. You should be grateful I've given you a home, a purpose. How many packs would take in a wolfless cripple?"

Each word was a knife.

He reached past me and locked the door. The click echoed in the sudden silence.

"Tonight, you're going to do what you should've done years ago." His hand gripped my shoulder, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "You're going to give me an heir. Whether you want to or not."

Briana made a small sound. Jonah's eyes flicked to her, cold and dismissive.

"Leave."

She scrambled off the bed and fled, not meeting my gaze.

The door locked again behind her.

Jonah smiled down at me, and I finally saw the monster that had been hiding behind seven years of gentle lies.