The Alpha Proposed to My Sister While I Was Dying

I woke to the sound of my own breathing—ragged, shallow, unfamiliar.

For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. The ceiling above me swam in and out of focus, white and cracked like old bone. My head felt split open from the inside, pain radiating behind my eyes in slow, merciless pulses. Every breath tasted wrong, metallic and dry.

I turned my head slightly and winced.

The healer’s room.

I recognized it by the faint scent of crushed herbs and antiseptic, by the soft glow of warding runes etched into the walls. Someone had laid me on a narrow cot and covered me with a thin blanket. My dress had been changed. My hair loosened.

I had collapsed.

Again.

The thought came with no shame left in it—only exhaustion.

A shadow moved near the doorway. My mother stood there, arms crossed, her expression tight with impatience rather than concern.

“You finally woke up,” she said.

I swallowed, my throat raw. “Where is my daughter?”

She sighed, as if I’d asked something unreasonable. “Still with the Alpha.”

My heart clenched painfully. “Bring her to me.”

“No,” she replied without hesitation.

I stared at her. “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” she said coolly. “You’re in no state to see her. The healers confirmed it—you collapsed from weakness and stress. Do you know how that looks?”

I pushed myself upright despite the way the room tilted. “I don’t care how it looks. She’s my child.”

“And she’s the Alpha’s heir,” my mother shot back. “Which means the pack comes first.”

The words landed like a blow.

“So that’s it,” I whispered. “I stop being her mother the moment I stop being useful.”

My mother’s jaw tightened. “Don’t dramatize this.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I said hoarsely. “You were there last night. You saw what he did. What they all did.”

She didn’t deny it.

Instead, she looked away. “Virelya is pregnant. The pack needs stability. You should be thinking about what’s best for Sable.”

I laughed weakly. “And you think what’s best is taking her away from me?”

“I think,” she said slowly, “that Sable deserves a Luna who can stand beside the Alpha without collapsing.”

The healer at the far end of the room shifted uncomfortably but said nothing.

I felt something inside me finally give—not shatter, not explode. Just… go quiet.

“Leave,” I said.

My mother frowned. “Aurelian—”

“Leave,” I repeated, firmer this time. “Or I swear I’ll make a scene that even you won’t be able to smooth over.”

She studied me for a long moment, then turned and walked out without another word.

The door closed softly behind her.

I lay back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling as tears slid silently into my hair. My wolf didn’t stir. Didn’t protest. Didn’t rage.

She was too tired.

---

They released me near dusk.

No apology. No concern. Just a reminder to rest and avoid emotional stress—as if my life hadn’t already been reduced to a series of things I was no longer allowed to feel.

I walked back to the pack house alone.

The halls felt colder than they had that morning. Empty. Stripped. My steps echoed too loudly, as if the house itself was announcing that I no longer belonged.

I found her in the common room.

Sable sat on the floor, surrounded by new toys—expensive ones. Hand-carved figures. Enchanted stones that glowed faintly when touched. Gifts meant to impress, not comfort.

And beside her sat Virelya.

She looked up when I entered, surprise flashing across her face before smoothing into something gentle and composed.

“Auri,” she said softly. “You’re awake.”

Sable turned.

Her eyes lit up for half a second. “Auri!”

I barely had time to breathe before she continued, her voice bright with innocent excitement.

“Luna Virelya got me all these!” she said, gesturing wildly. “She played with me all afternoon and told me stories about the moon!”

The word hit me late.

Luna.

Not Aunt.

Not Virelya.

Luna.

I felt it like a blade sliding between my ribs.

I forced myself to kneel in front of her, my movements slow and careful. “Baby,” I said gently, “you don’t have to call her that.”

Sable frowned, confused. “But Alpha Father said she’s going to be our Luna now.”

I looked up.

Virelya’s gaze met mine—calm, almost apologetic. “I didn’t tell her to,” she said quietly. “She heard it from the elders.”

Of course she had.

I swallowed hard. “Sable, look at me.”

She did, obedient as always.

“I’m your Luna,” I said softly. “I always have been.”

She hesitated.

Just for a second.

Then she glanced back at Virelya, who smiled encouragingly and opened her arms slightly.

Sable shifted closer to her without realizing it.

My chest caved in.

“But Luna Virelya makes Alpha Father happy,” she said slowly, like she was working through a problem. “And everyone says she’s strong. They said the pack needs her.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“So I should call her Luna too,” Sable finished. “Right?”

I felt my wolf finally stir—not in anger, not in jealousy, but in pain so deep it was almost reverent.

“No,” I whispered. “You should call people what feels right to you.”

She studied my face, searching for something I could no longer give her.

Then she said, quietly, “Luna Virelya feels… safer.”

That was the moment something in me truly died.

Vaelor entered the room then, his presence filling the space like a storm cloud. He glanced between us, assessing, calculating.

“This isn’t helping,” he said.

I stood slowly, my knees shaking. “You did this.”

“I did what was necessary,” he replied flatly.

“She’s seven,” I said. “And you’re already teaching her how to replace me.”

“She needs stability,” he said again, like it was a spell that excused everything.

Virelya rose gracefully, resting a hand on her stomach. “Auri,” she said gently, “please don’t make this harder. Sable needs peace.”

I laughed—a raw, broken sound. “Peace? You took her from my arms while I was unconscious.”

Vaelor’s eyes darkened. “Watch your tone.”

“I’m her mother,” I said, my voice shaking now. “And you’re acting like I’m already dead.”

Silence fell.

Sable looked between us, fear creeping into her expression. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” I said immediately, turning back to her. “Never.”

I reached out, brushing her hair back one last time, memorizing the feel of it. “I love you,” I whispered.

She nodded, uncertain. “I love you too… Auri.”

Not Luna.

Not Mother.

Just Auri.

I straightened and stepped back.

Vaelor didn’t stop me.

Virelya didn’t follow.

And Sable didn’t call after me.

As I walked out of the room, my legs trembling, one thought echoed endlessly in my mind:

They won’t need to kill me.

They’re already teaching my daughter how to live as if I’m gone.