My Alpha Gave Me to the Rogue King

The Continental Luna Tribunal was supposed to be my night.

I'd spent three years representing the Obsidian Fang Pack at diplomatic missions across allied territories. Three years of mediating border disputes, negotiating trade agreements, and sitting through endless council meetings where rival Alphas tested my composure with thinly veiled insults. I'd done it all without complaint, because that's what a Luna does. That's what I thought love required.

The silver gown hanging in my closet had taken weeks to choose. Simple, elegant, with just enough shimmer to catch the light when I moved. I'd imagined Drake's face when he saw me accept the Tribunal's recognition. I'd imagined, just once, seeing pride in his eyes instead of that distant calculation he wore like armor.

I was fixing my hair when the summons came through the mind-link. Cold. Clipped. "My study. Now."

My wolf stirred uneasily beneath my skin, but I pushed down the instinct and made my way through the pack house corridors. Pack members I passed didn't meet my eyes. That should have been my first warning.

Drake stood behind his desk when I entered, backlit by the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Nevada territory. He didn't look up from the papers he was reviewing.

"You're not attending tonight," he said. His tone was the same one he used to discuss supply chain logistics.

I blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"The Continental Luna Tribunal." He finally looked at me, and his expression was utterly neutral. "Celine will represent the Obsidian Fang Pack."

The words didn't make sense. I heard them individually, but strung together they formed something impossible. "Drake, that's... I earned that recognition. Three years of—"

"I'm aware of your service." He set down his pen with deliberate precision. "This is a strategic decision. Celine's presence will strengthen our alliance with Eric's connections to the eastern packs. Your attendance is no longer necessary."

No longer necessary. Like I was a meeting he'd decided to cancel.

"This is my honor," I said quietly, fighting to keep my voice steady. "You can't just give it to someone else."

His jaw tightened—that tell he had when he was suppressing something. "I can, and I have. The decision is final."

"Drake—"

The Alpha tone hit me like a physical blow. "You will not attend."

My knees buckled. I caught myself against the doorframe, my wolf whimpering as the command wrapped around my throat like a chain. The mate bond amplified it, made it impossible to resist. I felt my body obeying before my mind could even process the humiliation.

When I could finally breathe again, Drake had already returned to his papers.

I made it back to my quarters on shaking legs. From my window, I watched Celine descend the pack house steps two hours later. She wore the Obsidian Fang Luna pendant—my pendant—and a gown even more elaborate than mine. The car that was supposed to take me to the ceremony pulled up for her instead.

She smiled and waved to the gathered pack members like she'd earned this. Like she'd spent three years bleeding herself dry for wolves who would never thank her.

I pressed my palm flat against the cold window glass and felt nothing.

Later—much later, when the pack house had gone quiet and most wolves had either attended the ceremony or retired for the night—I found myself walking the corridors like a ghost. I wasn't going anywhere specific. I just couldn't stay in that room anymore, staring at the silver gown I'd never wear.

I was passing Drake's study when I heard his voice. The door was cracked open, and the mind-link was carelessly unshielded. He was talking to Eric.

"You have to admit, it's efficient," Drake said, and there was something almost amused in his tone. "Aria's aura draws attention like a beacon. Every rival pack, every rogue with ambitions, every threat to our bloodline—they all fixate on her. Meanwhile, Celine remains completely off their radar."

Eric laughed. "A living decoy. That's cold, brother."

"It's strategic. Her silver wolf makes her the perfect shield. Mother's blood punishments, the assassination attempts last spring, even the territorial challenges—they all redirect to Aria. Celine stays safe. The pack stays stable. Everyone benefits."

"Does Aria know?"

"Of course not. She thinks the mate bond is sacred." There was no malice in Drake's voice. Just clinical assessment, like he was discussing livestock placement. "She'll endure anything for it. That's what makes this work."

I stopped breathing.

My wolf howled inside my chest—a silent, agonized sound that no one else could hear. The mate bond pulsed between us, that invisible thread that was supposed to mean protection, devotion, forever. I'd felt it every day since he marked me. I'd trusted it more than my own instincts.

It was a leash. It had always been a leash.

I walked back to my quarters in a daze. My legs moved, but I couldn't feel them. The pack house corridors stretched endlessly, and every step echoed too loud in my ears.

When I finally closed my door, I stood in the center of the room and stared at nothing. My fingers found the mate mark scar on my neck—that place I'd touched a thousand times for reassurance, for connection, for proof that I belonged to someone.

Now I felt only scar tissue. Raised. Permanent. A brand that marked me as property, not a partner.

My wolf pressed against my consciousness, still reaching toward Drake's scent somewhere in the pack house. The bond refused to release me even now. Even knowing what I knew.

I sank onto the edge of my bed as the sun began to rise outside my window. I didn't sleep. I couldn't.

But for the first time in three years, I began to count. Every sacrifice I'd made. Every humiliation I'd swallowed. Every time I'd silenced my own wolf's distress because I thought that's what the bond required.

And I began, quietly and precisely, to plan.