My Alpha's Retribution

Chapter 1 – The Breaking Point

Initially, when my Alpha husband, Dylan Wade, brought his secretary to our packhouse in the middle of the night, I thought nothing of it.

Now looking back, I was such a fool.

One blinded by love and emotions.

Dylan was not just my husband. He was the Alpha of the SilverClaw Pack. A man everyone bowed to. His word was law. His gaze alone could make warriors lower their heads. But to me, he was simply Dylan. The man I once believed would walk through fire just to protect me.

He would bring her home mostly when I wasn’t around. At least, that was what I thought.

It had been almost three years since he started working closely with her — Maya. She was his personal assistant at the company, but lately, she had become his shadow even within the pack territory.

That night, I wasn’t supposed to be home.

The girls and I had planned a small night out to relieve stress, but everything fell apart when one of them cancelled and the rest backed out. So, I had to turn back home, feeling tired and disappointed, hoping to just crawl into bed.

The packhouse was dark when I arrived, except for a faint glow from the kitchen. I remember thinking Dylan was probably working late again. He always said he was working. He had stopped sharing his thoughts with me months ago.

I stepped in quietly, trying not to startle him. But the moment I turned the corner and entered the kitchen, the world froze.

Maya was sitting on the kitchen island, our kitchen island, with her legs wrapped around Dylan’s waist, her fingers tangled in his hair. His hand moved slowly over her back, the pad of his thumb brushing along her jaw in a way that made her sigh. The light from the counter lamp fell softly across his face, and for one second, I saw his wedding ring gleam — my ring — pressing against her bare skin as he held her close.

My breath caught before my mind could even process what I was seeing. My knees weakened, a sharp, sick feeling twisting in my stomach. The floor felt like it was shifting beneath me.

I couldn’t breathe.

The sound of my own heartbeat thundered in my ears, drowning out everything else.

He was touching her in a way he hadn’t touched me in months. The way his thumb traced small circles at the base of her neck, the same spot where he once liked to kiss me.

My mouth went dry. My fingers trembled against the wall I was gripping for balance.

Then I heard it.

Maya rested her head on his chest, her voice soft, sweet, too comfortable.

“Dylan, when are you going to make me your legal Luna? I’ve waited for so long. It’s been over three years now and I can’t wait anymore,” she whined, sounding like a spoiled pup.

I waited for him to tell her to stop. To remind her that I was his mate. His wife. His Luna.

But he didn’t.

He chuckled — low and cold. The sound didn’t even sound like him.

“Don’t worry,” he said carelessly. “It’s not as if I touch her anymore. She’s become too old for me anyway. For a long time, I’ve been wanting to get rid of her.”

Those words hit me like claws across my heart.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring. Then the world started to tilt again. My vision blurred. The sound of their laughter became muffled, distant, like it was coming from underwater.

My knees buckled, and I pressed my hand hard against the wall to stop myself from falling.

“Get rid of her.”

The words echoed again and again in my head until I thought I might scream.

I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t move.

The air felt thick, heavy. I could taste the salt of my own tears before I even realized they were falling.

That sentence. Those words. They tore me open in ways claws never could.

I had never felt pain like that before. Not even when his mother had stood before the whole pack and said I wasn’t worthy of being Luna. Not even when she would nitpick about every little thing I did — how I spoke, how I walked, how I wasn’t from a strong bloodline.

None of that compared to hearing my husband say those words.

Like I was some broken thing that had outlived its use.

My wolf stirred painfully inside me, restless and hurt. She whimpered softly, echoing my own pain.

“Mate,” she whispered in my head. “Our mate doesn’t want us.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and slowly stepped back before they could sense me. I didn’t shift. I didn’t scream. I just walked quietly up the stairs, numb from head to toe.

My hands trembled as I closed the door behind me.

Inside the room that used to be ours — now only his — I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.

I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t even breathe properly. Everything inside me was heavy, frozen.

I remembered how I had given up everything for him. My small pack. My freedom. My family, who never wanted me to marry him in the first place. They warned me. They said Dylan was too cold, too ambitious, too used to getting what he wanted.

But I thought I could change him. I thought love could make him soft.

What a fool I was.

I took in a shaky breath, glancing at the wall clock. It was almost midnight. Outside, I could hear faint laughter drifting from downstairs — Maya’s laughter.

I gripped the bedsheet so hard my knuckles turned white.

Three years.

Three years of lies.

Three years of me trying to please a man who had already replaced me.

I stood up and looked into the mirror. My reflection looked hollow. My hair was messy, my eyes red and swollen.

I turned off the light, crawled into bed, and lay beside the empty space that once belonged to him. My voice came out in a whisper.

“Three days,” I said softly. “Three days, Dylan Wade. That’s all you have left of me.”

My wolf stirred again, her voice calm but tired.

“We leave?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “We leave.”

The next morning, he acted like nothing happened. He even greeted me with a lazy smile, pressing a kiss to my forehead like he always did when he was pretending to care.

“Maya and I have a few reports to finish,” he said while buttoning his shirt.

Of course, Maya.

I smiled faintly. “I’m sure you do.”

He didn’t notice the sarcasm. He never did.

When he left, the house fell silent. I walked to the kitchen and stood where I had seen them the night before. My knees almost gave out at the memory. The counter still smelled faintly of his cologne.

I touched the spot gently, my fingers trembling. I thought of all the meals I had made here. How I had stayed up late waiting for him. How I had believed every single excuse.

All of it was gone.

The thought of leaving terrified me. I had nowhere to go. But staying here, living as the joke of the pack, was worse.

I had seen how some of the she-wolves looked at me lately — pity in their eyes. Maybe they already knew. Maybe the rumors had spread faster than I realized.