Rejecting the Cheating Alpha

The pack archives smelled of old paper and cedar wood, dust motes dancing in the narrow shafts of morning light. I pulled the burial contract from its protective sleeve with careful fingers, my heart hammering against my ribs as I photographed each page. There it was—my mother's elegant signature, dated eighteen years ago, reserving plot seven in the Luna section for Evangeline Marie Thomas. No mentions of Eleanor Griffin. No amended documents. Just clear, indisputable proof that someone had forged their way into my family's sacred ground.

Dr. Cross had given her statement without hesitation, her healer's oath compelling her toward truth. I tucked her written testimony into my growing file, each piece of evidence a stone I was building into a wall Owen couldn't climb over.

By the third day, my uncle's office had become our war room. Marcus spread financial documents across every available surface, his jaw tight as he walked me through the money trail.

"Fifty-three thousand dollars," he said, tapping a highlighted column. "All from pack emergency funds. The account we're supposed to use for rogue attacks or natural disasters." His finger moved to another sheet. "Here—twenty-five hundred to a black market jewelry dealer in the northern territories. Date matches exactly one week before your bracelet went missing."

My mother stood by the window, her silhouette rigid against the afternoon light. "He stole from the pack to buy my daughter's heirloom for his mistress."

"It gets worse." Marcus pulled out another folder, this one stamped with official Lycan Council seals. "I called in favors with the registry office. Nyomi Ray's identity papers? Completely fabricated. The scent signature was altered using illegal alchemical compounds—banned substances that cost a fortune on the black market. Someone paid very well to make her disappear and become 'Evangeline Griffin.'"

The name tasted like poison in my mouth. She'd stolen more than my burial plot. She'd stolen my identity, my mate, my future.

"We present this to the Pack Council tomorrow," Marcus said. "Owen won't be able to dismiss this as dramatics."

But tomorrow came with its own devastation.

The communal dining hall buzzed with the usual evening energy—pack members gathering after the day's work, the air thick with cooking smells and easy conversation. I sat at the Beta table with Sarah and Thomas, pushing food around my plate while they carefully avoided mentioning Owen's name.

Then the murmurs started, rippling outward from the Alpha table like stones dropped in still water.

I looked up.

Nyomi stood beside Owen's chair, one hand pressed dramatically against her stomach, her face glowing with manufactured joy. The dining hall fell silent, hundreds of eyes turning toward the spectacle.

"I have wonderful news to share with our pack," she announced, her voice carrying that breathy quality she used when performing innocence. "I'm carrying Alpha Owen's pup. The future heir of Silverveil."

The world tilted sideways. My fork clattered against my plate, the sound impossibly loud in the stunned silence. Around me, pack members exchanged confused glances—many still believed Owen and I were mated, our bond intact if strained.

Owen rose from his seat, and the pride on his face carved something vital out of my chest. He placed his hand over Nyomi's, covering her stomach with a possessiveness I remembered from our early days together.

"It's true," he said, his Alpha voice resonating through the hall. "Nyomi carries the future of our pack. I expect everyone to show her the respect and protection due to the mother of my heir."

The dining hall erupted in whispers. I felt Sarah's hand on my arm, heard Thomas's sharp intake of breath, but I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The pack members seated nearest me looked away, their embarrassment at witnessing my humiliation almost as sharp as the humiliation itself.

Across the hall, Nyomi's eyes found mine. For just a moment, her sweet expression slipped, revealing the triumph underneath. Then she leaned into Owen's embrace, playing the devoted mother-to-be for her captive audience.

My wolf howled inside me, a sound of such pure anguish that I had to press my hand against my mouth to keep it from escaping. The mate bond—already fractured and bleeding—felt like shattered glass in my chest, each breath driving the shards deeper.

I stood on shaking legs, the Beta table falling silent around me. Every eye in the dining hall tracked my movement as I walked toward the exit, my spine straight despite the earthquake inside me. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. Not here. Not now.

But as I pushed through the heavy wooden doors into the cool evening air, I heard Owen's voice carrying through the hall: "Let's toast to new beginnings and the future of Silverveil!"

The sound of glasses clinking followed me into the darkness, each cheerful note another nail in the coffin of what we'd once been.

My mother was waiting at her cottage, as if she'd known I would need her. She took one look at my face and pulled me into her arms, holding me while I finally shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces.

"He has a pup with her," I whispered against her shoulder. "After everything we lost, after our—" I couldn't say it. Couldn't speak of the baby we'd mourned together, the miscarriage that had started the distance between us.

"I know, daughter." Her hand smoothed my hair with the same gentle touch from childhood. "I know."

When my tears finally stopped, she pulled back and cupped my face in her hands. "Tomorrow, we take everything from him. His position. His reputation. His stolen happiness. All of it."

I nodded, feeling something cold and final settling where my heart used to be. Owen had made his choice. Now the Pack Council would help me make mine.