No Mate for My Ex Alpha

I clenched my jaw, forcing the bile back down. My heart pounded, but my body felt strangely detached—numb, frozen in place as the laughter in the study continued.

My fiancé and my mate. The man I loved. Laughing about me like I was some joke.

I should have barged in. I should have thrown the door open and screamed at him, demanded answers. But I didn’t.

Instead, I turned on my heel and walked away.

My fingers dug into my palm, nails biting into my skin. The hallway felt suffocating, the weight of what I’d just overheard pressing down on my chest. I needed air, space—anything but this crushing realization.

Alpha Damon never loved me.

He never wanted me.

He was using me.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to keep walking. I wouldn’t break down here. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

I barely made it to my room before the emotions came crashing down on me.

I slammed the door shut, resting my forehead against the cool wood. My entire body trembled. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the words away, wishing I could unhear them.

"She’s just a safety net."

"If she had given it up, maybe I’d keep her around longer."

"She’s delusional."

A choked sound escaped my lips. The pain was unbearable, twisting and gnawing at my insides like a beast that refused to be caged.

How had I been so blind?

How had I convinced myself that Damon and I were destined, that his growing coldness was just stress, that the late nights and hushed conversations meant nothing?

"He’s just busy," I had told myself. "He loves me. He’s just distracted. The wedding planning is overwhelming him."

I had excused every red flag.

And the worst part? I had been warned.

––––––

A few weeks ago…

“Sienna, wake up.”

I groaned as warm hands shook my shoulders. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled my nose before I forced my heavy eyelids open. Across from me, my best friend, Eva, stood with her arms crossed, an unimpressed look on her face.

“It’s six in the morning,” I muttered, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow.

“Exactly,” she shot back. “Six in the morning, and your loving mate hasn’t come home from his ‘meeting.’”

I stiffened.

Eva sighed. “Sienna, come on. I’m not trying to ruin your day, but I know what I saw.”

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. “Eva, we’ve talked about this. Damon has important pack responsibilities. He—”

“He was at a club last night,” she interrupted. “I saw him with my own eyes, and he wasn’t alone.”

My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to scoff. “That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it was a business thing.”

Eva’s jaw clenched. “Sienna, he had a woman on his lap.”

The room suddenly felt too small, too hot. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, shaking my head.

“You’re mistaken,” I said, voice tight.

Eva exhaled sharply. “I know you love him. I know you want to believe in him. But, Sienna—”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” I threw the blankets off me and stood, walking to the window, desperate to breathe. “Damon loves me. We’re getting mated in a week. I am gonna to be his Luna. Everything is fine.”

A heavy silence followed before Eva finally spoke. “Okay.” Her voice was soft, understanding. “Just… if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

––––––

Now, standing alone in my bedroom, her words haunted me.

Eva had tried to warn me, and I had brushed her off like a fool.

I should have listened.

But I had been too caught up in the fantasy of what I wanted my life to be.

I turned to the vanity mirror, staring at my reflection. My eyes were red, my lips trembling, my skin pale. I looked broken.

I took a shaky breath and wiped my face, erasing every trace of my pain. I forced my lips into a neutral line, training my expression into calm indifference. No one could know.

I would go through with the wedding.

I would smile, play the perfect fiancée, let him believe I was the same foolish woman who adored him.

––––––

The next day, I made my way to the small ticketing office on the outskirts of the pack’s territory. It was the only place that handled long-distance travel, including flights to the Werewolf Council.

The old attendant at the desk barely looked up as I approached.

“I need a ticket,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “To the Council.”

She hummed, clicking a few keys on her old computer before nodding. “Next available flight is in a week.”

My heart stopped.

“In a week?” I repeated.

The woman barely spared me a glance. “Yes. Earliest available departure.”

I almost laughed. The universe was cruel.

A week.

The same day as my wedding.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

“Perfect,” I said, smiling coldly. “That’s even better.”