They always said an Alpha she-wolf couldn’t be loved—not truly.

I heard it my whole life. “You’re too strong-willed.” “Too dominant.” “No Alpha would ever want someone who challenges them.”

When I chose Daniel as my mate, the whispers grew louder. He wasn’t my moon-given mate, but he was powerful, cunning, and everything I thought I needed. Our union made sense—two Alphas, uniting to strengthen the Crimson Hollow Pack. I thought we’d defy tradition, prove them all wrong.

But the doubts were always there, lurking beneath the surface. They told me it wouldn’t last, that Daniel would resent me, that my strength would become a threat.

And when they weren’t warning me about my bond, they reminded me of my body. “Alpha she-wolves rarely conceive,” they’d say. “Your dominance will make it hard.” “The goddess may have given you leadership, but she won’t give you pups.”

For years, I convinced myself I didn’t care. The pack was my legacy—my family. Until the day I felt the life growing inside me.

For the first time, I allowed myself hope. Daniel and I could have something more than power and duty. We could have a future, a pup to unite us in ways the pack could never understand.

But it didn’t last.

The rogues took that from me. Those wretched, savage wolves who ambushed me on the outskirts of the territory. Their claws and teeth tore at my flesh, but it was the loss of our pup that shattered me.

Daniel had avenged me, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing could fill the void. The whispers came back, cruel and sharp. They didn’t need to say it—I saw it in their eyes. An Alpha she-wolf can’t even keep her pup alive.

Daniel’s coldness only deepened the wound. I’d thought the loss would bring us closer, that he’d understand the pain that consumed me. Instead, it drove us further apart.

Now, five years into this bond, I wasn’t sure what held us together anymore. Certainly not love. Perhaps not even respect.

Then I conceived again, a miracle, and I thought I could guard this one with my life yet the moon goddess allowed my precious pup to be snatched away from me again.

This time Daniel didn’t care, didn’t know, not when he had his little omega advisor snuggled up

With him.

Something inside me broke when I lost my pup again. I was growing tired. Exhausted of all of this.

I didn’t wait for his approval as I stepped out of the cabin into the brisk, pine-scented air.

From behind, Daniel’s deep voice reached me. “You’re walking? Take someone from the patrol unit.”

I ignored him, letting the door slam shut behind me. A low growl escaped the Alpha’s throat, but I dismissed it. He wouldn’t follow; Daniel only offered safety when it benefited him.

We’d been mates for five years, but our bond felt more like a broken pact—a formality upheld for the sake of the pack. Once, we had been equals, but now? Now, I was nothing more than an accessory to the Alpha of the Crimson Hollow Pack.

The Packhouse

The Crimson Hollow Pack’s headquarters wasn’t just a sprawling log mansion; it was the beating heart of our territory. Wolves bustled around, their laughter and chatter filling the air.

I made my way toward the training yard, keeping my head high despite the whispers.

“Did you see Suki and the Alpha earlier?” a young she-wolf murmured to her friend. “She was practically glued to his side.”

“Of course,” the other replied with a smirk. “She’s his ‘advisor,’ isn’t she? And much better suited for him than…” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of me.

I shot her a pointed look. She froze, muttering something to her companion before they both scurried off.

Suki.

The pack’s resident “advisor” and the bane of my existence. She was cunning, beautiful, and knew how to play her cards. She stayed close to Daniel in ways I hadn’t for years—offering him counsel, sharing meals, and whispering in his ear during strategy meetings.

She was everything a Luna was supposed to be, and the pack was beginning to notice.

But I refused to give them a spectacle.

By the time I reached the Alpha’s office, my anger simmered just beneath the surface.

The door was slightly ajar, and I could hear muffled voices—soft murmurs punctuated by low laughter. My steps faltered, a cold dread creeping up my spine. I wasn’t supposed to be here. Daniel had dismissed me earlier, claiming he needed time to strategize alone.

But something about his tone, the way he avoided my gaze, had unsettled me. Against my better judgment, I had followed my instincts. And now, standing here with my hand hovering over the door, I wished I hadn’t.

I pushed the door open slowly, the hinges creaking in protest. At first, the scene didn’t register. The office was dimly lit, a single lamp casting a warm glow across the room. Suki’s back was to me, her hair spilling over her shoulders in perfect waves. She was perched on the edge of Daniel’s desk, but she wasn’t just sitting.

His hands were on her.

My breath hitched as the truth slammed into me like a physical blow. His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her closer. Her dress was hiked up scandalously high, and his shirt was half-unbuttoned, his chest rising and falling with the kind of urgency I hadn’t seen from him in years.

Suki’s melodic voice broke through the pounding in my ears, but this time it wasn’t sweet or firm—it was breathless. Intimate.

“Daniel,” she murmured, her tone a mix of pleading and desire.

He responded, but I couldn’t make out the words. My vision blurred, my stomach twisting into knots.

I didn’t even realize I’d pushed the door fully open until they both froze. Daniel’s head snapped up, his expression a mixture of shock and guilt. Suki turned slowly, her face pale but her eyes defiant, as if daring me to say something.

“Isolde,” Daniel started, his voice hoarse, but I raised a hand to cut him off.

“Don’t,” I said, my voice trembling but firm. “Don’t you dare.”

Suki adjusted her dress, her movements slow and calculated. She didn’t even bother to apologize. Instead, she smirked—a subtle, infuriating curve of her lips that made my blood boil.

“I thought you were busy strategizing alone,” I said, my gaze locking onto Daniel. My voice was eerily calm, even as the rage bubbled beneath the surface.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” he stammered, stepping away from her.

I let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and hollow. “Oh, really? Then by all means, explain it to me.”

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. And in that silence, something inside me broke completely. Not the love I once felt for him—that had been dying for a long time—but the last shred of hope that he could ever redeem himself.

I turned on my heel without another word, slamming the door behind me. The sound echoed through the hallway, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the reality of what I’d just seen—or the realization that I would never forgive him.

The sound of the door slamming behind me still echoed in my ears as I stormed down the corridor, my breath coming in sharp bursts. My mind raced, a whirlwind of anger, humiliation, and despair. By the time I reached the cool night air outside, I was trembling, the weight of what I’d just seen pressing down on me.

I fumbled for my phone, my hands shaking as I scrolled through the contacts. There was only one person I wanted to talk to right now—one person who had always been in my corner. Selene.

Selene and I had been inseparable as pups, growing up in neighboring packs. Where I was quiet and cautious, she was fierce and unyielding—a natural-born leader. It came as no surprise when she became Alpha of her pack after her father’s death. Even now, years later, her name commanded respect.

The line rang twice before her familiar, no-nonsense voice answered.

“Isolde?” she said, her tone immediately shifting to concern. “What’s wrong?”

Hearing her voice was like a dam breaking. My shoulders sagged, and a sob tore from my throat before I could stop it.

“Selene,” I choked out, my voice barely above a whisper. “I—I can’t do this anymore.”

“What happened?” she demanded, her tone sharp now, protective. “Are you hurt? Did someone—”

“It’s Daniel,” I interrupted, the name tasting like ash on my tongue. “I caught him. With Suki.”

For a moment, there was silence on the other end, the kind that felt heavier than words. Then came the growl—a low, dangerous sound that sent a chill down my spine.

“That bastard,” Selene spat. “I should’ve ripped his throat out the first time I met him.”

I let out a weak laugh, though it sounded more like a sob. “You always hated him.”

“And I was right to,” she snapped. “He never deserved you, Isolde. Never.”

I sank onto a bench, the cold metal biting through my jeans. “It’s not just this, Selene. It’s everything. The lies, the betrayal, the way he’s made me feel so…small.” My voice broke, and I pressed a hand to my mouth, trying to keep it together.

“You’re not small,” Selene said fiercely. “He’s the weak one. Only a pathetic excuse for an Alpha would tear down his Luna to make himself feel bigger.”

Her words, while comforting, only made the ache in my chest worse. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. “I feel like I’ve lost everything.”

“You haven’t lost me,” she said firmly. “And you haven’t lost yourself, Isolde. You’re stronger than this. Stronger than him.”

I closed my eyes, letting her words wash over me. For the first time in hours, I felt a flicker of something other than despair.

“Come to me,” Selene said after a pause. “Leave his pack and come to mine. You’ll be safe here, and you’ll have the space to figure out your next steps.”

I hesitated, the thought of leaving everything I’d known both terrifying and liberating.

“You don’t have to decide now,” she added gently. “But whatever you choose, know that I’m here for you. Always.”

A smile appeared across my face as I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Thank you, Selene. For everything.”

“Thank me when you’re here,” she said, her voice softening. “And Isolde? Don’t let him win.”

I ended the call, clutching the phone to my chest.

It was time to leave.