The Alpha Longed for My Love When I Rejected Him

As I sat across from Cameron, thinking about how he treated his Beta better than his own mate, I accidentally knocked my fork to the floor. My fingers trembled as I bent to pick it up, sensing the unease growing in my chest.

When I straightened, Cameron was already at the door. Without so much as a glance my way, he threw a casual “Something urgent came up. I’ll cook for you next time,” over his shoulder before he left.

Half an hour later, I limped into my office for my Luna duties, the weight of his indifference pressing on me. I felt the sympathetic stares of my pack members but shrugged them off, pretending not to notice. As I refilled my mug in the break room, two voices whispered nearby.

“So it’s true then? Alpha Cameron’s spending all his time with Beta Kennedy?”

“Yes! I saw them together just this morning. He even picked her up in front of everyone,” replied the other voice.

My hand slipped, sending the mug shattering to the floor. I bent down, carefully picking up the shards, my heart heavy with unspoken pain.

It was past ten that night when I finally finished my work. A familiar presence settled beside me, and Cameron draped a coat over my shoulders. "Why didn’t you answer my messages?” he muttered, sounding annoyed.

I glanced at my phone and found his single message: What flavor of juice do you like?

Three years ago, I’d asked him for an orange juice to celebrate the start of summer. He’d turned to me then with disgust, sneering, “Orange juice? Grow up, Ariane.”

And now he was bringing me one. My wolf, Ciara, stirred uneasily within me, sensing the strange, hollow gesture. I ignored the drink, keeping my focus on my screen.

His confusion was palpable. “You used to beg me for this,” he said, sounding almost baffled.

I kept my voice steady, barely glancing his way. “It’s late. If I drink it now, I won’t sleep.”

Silence. Then, in a cold voice, he muttered, “I’m going to the restroom. Let’s head home after.”

The moment he left, his phone buzzed on my desk. Kennedy’s name lit up the screen with a message, “You silly! Who sends dozens of juices with different flavors all at once? Trying to make me a little piggy, huh? Shivering here!”

I looked away, ignoring the surge of irritation from Ciara. She growled softly in my mind, her trust in Gavin, Cameron’s wolf, weakening with every passing moment.

When we got home after eleven, I walked straight to the bedroom and started packing my things. Cameron walked in a while later, towel drying his hair, his gaze catching on the half-empty vanity.

He frowned but brushed it off casually. “I’ve got a business trip to another continent next month. Let me know if you want anything.”

I didn’t bother looking up. “No need. Thanks.”

Ciara, always patient and loyal, was growling within me, a low, steady sound that spoke of her own heartache and loss of faith in him.

Suddenly, Cameron threw the towel onto the bed, his eyes narrowing. “What, all this because I got you the wrong breakfast? Just for a damn bread...”

I opened my mouth to explain, but he scoffed, cutting me off. “I can’t stand you being dramatic, Ariane. You’re out of line.”

With that, he stormed into his study, slamming the door behind him.

In the seven years we’d been together, he’d always been the one to give me the cold shoulder first, and I’d always been the one to break the silence, to humble myself. But tonight, I simply turned off the bedside lamp, Ciara silent and hurt within me, and let him stew alone in his study.

The next morning, I made breakfast as usual. I’d just finished eating my portion when he came out of his study, still on the phone.

“Take the day off,” he ordered. “By 6 p.m., I need you to make me an identical fondant cake.”