Two Alphas Begging For My Love

“Lucy, I’ll leave for an Alpha meeting with the Northern Packs. It’ll just be a couple of days,” he murmured, brushing his lips against my forehead like the devoted mate he pretended to be. “I’ll miss you.”

I forced a smile, pretending to care. “Safe travels, my Alpha.”

Trent laughed when I called him Alpha. He knew I never called him that unless we were arguing over something, but he didn’t care because I said it in a loving tone, or he didn’t care.

When his black SUV disappeared beyond the tree line, I turned on my heel and got to work.

I had observed his routines for days, watching where he kept his most guarded possessions. Alpha always had secrets. And his? They were locked inside the packhouse vault with an easy code—Monica’s birthday.

When I tried it, it worked. The lock clicked open on my first try. Inside, everything I needed lay in neat, damning stacks.

The first set of documents were medical records—agreements for a ritualistic organ transfer—signed approvals for my mother’s heart to be sacrificed to save Monica’s sister.

I gripped the paper so tightly that my claws nearly shredded it. I never even signed any documents regarding my mother’s life.

Trent had done this. He had stolen my mother’s life, torn out her heart, and gifted it to the woman he truly loved. And then Trent had marked me, claimed me, and pretended I was his destined mate so that I wouldn’t ask questions. He was there when I was drowning in the same sorrows he caused.

I shoved the medical files aside and reached for another pile—financial transactions. At first glance, they appeared to be standard pack business, but I knew better now.

These weren’t simple payments. They were gifts.

Glistening jewelry. Lavish dresses. Luxurious vacations. All these are for Monica.

Then, I found my receipts for the gifts Trent had given me over the years—a necklace here, a ring there—things I had once cherished, thinking they were symbols of his love. But compared to what he had showered Monica with, they were scraps.

A bitter laugh bubbled up in my throat. I had been a convenient mate and a tool for his ambition. My hands trembled as I gathered the evidence, but they refused to break. Not now.

Instead, I pulled out my phone and began photographing everything—the hospital agreements, the transactions, the receipts—every piece of betrayal.

At the bottom of the vault, a thick leather folder labeled ‘Future Assets’ caught my eye. I saw investment plans, property deeds, and insurance policies when I opened it. Trent had mapped out his empire, ensuring Monica always had the best of everything.

I clenched my jaw and snapped pictures of those, too. When I was done, I carefully locked the vault, leaving everything exactly as it had been. Then, without glancing at the home I once believed was mine, I walked out of the packhouse.

The moon was high when I arrived at my first destination: the pack’s Gamma, the wisest and oldest in our pack.

“Luna Lucy,” he greeted, startled by my sudden appearance. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I need a severance ritual,” I said smoothly.

He frowned. “A severance ritual? You do know it is forbidden-”

“Yes! But I need a formal dissolution of my bond to Alpha Trent,” I clarified. “I know you have all the Alpha’s blood stored here for summoning and healing purposes.”

His brows lifted. “Does the Alpha—”

“No,” I cut in, my voice firm. “And I’d like to keep it that way. Now, what do I do?”

He hesitated but then nodded. “Understood. I just need your blood to drop off this vial. Then, I’ll mix it with Alpha Trent’s blood.” He brought the blood, and we started mixing it to perform the severance ritual.

After the ritual, I walked out and headed to my next destination.

The building was small, tucked away on the outskirts of rogue territory. Its sign was faded, nearly unreadable, but I knew what it was—a sanctuary for those who wished to vanish.

I stepped inside, the scent of damp wood and old parchment filling my nose. A man sat behind a desk, his face shadowed beneath a hood. His scent was strange—neutral, untraceable.

“I need your services.”

His eyes gleamed. “What kind of services?”

“I want to disappear,” I said. “Completely.”

A slow smirk spread across his face. “And what makes you think I can help you?”

I reached into my satchel and pulled out a stack of unmarked bills. “Because you’ve done it before.”

His smirk widened. “Now we’re talking.”

He gestured for me to follow him into a back room. Screens lined the walls, displaying blurred faces and falsified identities.

“Here’s how it works,” he said. “We fake your death. A rogue attack, a drowning, whatever you want. Once it’s done, you’ll get new papers and a new pack history. No one will ever find you.”

Lucy, I don’t like this. I want revenge! My wolf said.