Watching the Alpha Burn with His Mistress

I was out running errands around the pack today when something stopped me dead in my tracks.

My heart skipped a beat as I caught sight of Mira Briar, standing in the middle of a small crowd of women. She was grinning ear to ear, her fingers brushing over something on her neck—a pendant.

She wasn’t just wearing it; she was showing it off. Her voice carried as she bragged about it, soaking up the compliments from everyone around her. Then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, Mira spotted me.

“Aria!” she called out, waving like we were best friends.

I clenched my jaw so tightly it hurt. Just last night, I had been given the sacred Moonstone Pendant by Caden Lennox, my soon-to-be husband and the Alpha of the Moonshadow Pack.

It was an ancient tradition, a deeply significant custom in our pack. The pendant symbolized the Alpha’s loyalty to his Luna—a bond recognized and blessed by the shaman to reinforce its importance.

The pendant itself was stunning: a teardrop-shaped moonstone polished to an opalescent glow, suspended on a chain of woven silver.

Under the right light, it shimmered with shades of blue, lavender, and silver, like moonlight captured in stone. Only the Alpha’s true mate was ever supposed to receive it. It was sacred.

And yet, Mira was wearing what looked like the exact same pendant.

“Look, look!” she squealed as I got closer, grabbing my hands in her excitement. “Alpha Caden gave me this gorgeous necklace this morning! Isn’t it amazing? Now we match!”

I forced myself to look at it—my stomach twisting into knots. It wasn’t just similar; it was identical. Same intricate design. Same shimmer in the moonstone. And to twist the knife even deeper, it had her initial engraved on the back.

I didn’t want to make a scene, not with all those eyes watching me. So, I swallowed my pride, pasted on a tight smile, and nodded along like it didn’t matter. But inside? I was fuming.

Later, I tracked Caden down and brought it up. I tried to stay calm, but my voice wavered. “Caden, what’s going on with Mira’s pendant? I thought the Moonstone Pendant was supposed to be exclusive, to signify our bond.”

He barely even looked up. “Aria, come on,” he said, brushing it off like it was nothing. “The ceremony was just for us. I gave Mira one because we had extra moonstones lying around. It doesn’t mean anything.”

I stared at him, stunned. Extra moonstones? The pendant wasn’t something you just handed out like candy—it was deeply symbolic. But Caden didn’t seem to get it.

I frowned, the knot in my stomach tightening. I wasn’t buying it. The pendant had been carefully crafted, down to the engraved initials. It didn’t feel like something that was just “left over.”

Seeing that I wasn’t budging, Caden sighed and tried again to calm me down. “Come on, Aria. She’s like your little sister. Why are you getting jealous of her?”

“I’m not jealous!” I snapped, my frustration boiling over. “You—you just don’t get it. Is it me or her who’s supposed to be your Luna?”

“Not this again, please,” he groaned, rubbing his temples like I was being unreasonable. “We’ve been together for more than five years, Aria. Of course, it’s you. I just—” He paused, his tone softening. “I just feel sorry for Mira, okay? Her life has been tragic. You know that. And she looks up to you.”

I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. It was the same argument every time Mira came up.

Caden always said the same thing: that I should be more understanding, more considerate, because my life was supposedly so much better than hers. And every time, it made me sick.

Mira wasn’t just some innocent girl to me. She was the one who had come to me a few years ago, begging for a safe place after a rogue attack left her orphaned.

I met her during a visit to another pack, and my heart had gone out to her back then. I welcomed her like a sister, gave her a place in our pack. She had no family, nowhere else to go.

At first, I admired her resilience. She was so cheerful despite everything she had been through. She was sweet, too, but over time, something started to bug me. Mira had this habit of copying me—everything from clothes and hairstyles to accessories and even food.

At first, I thought it was kind of cute. I mean, who wouldn’t like sharing a similar taste with someone? But it got old fast. Every time I bought something, she’d want the exact same thing.

If I didn’t get it for her, she would slap on that sad, puppy-dog look that made everyone around her feel like the worst person alive.

People always brushed it off, saying it was because of her rough childhood. She had never had nice things, so of course she admired me and wanted to be like me. “Just take it as a compliment,” they’d say.

But they didn’t have to live with it. They didn’t know how suffocating it felt.

I’d even tried to talk to her about it once. I thought maybe if I explained how uncomfortable it made me, we could work things out. But as soon as I brought it up, her eyes welled up with tears.

“Aria,” she said in this trembling little voice, “I’m sorry if I’ve been annoying you. I just—I’m so grateful to you, and I like you so much. But if you don’t want me to…”

She didn’t even finish. Her tears spilled over, and she bolted out of the room.

The aftermath was a nightmare. People acted like I had committed some horrible crime. They said I had been too harsh, that I didn’t appreciate her enough. It was infuriating. I couldn’t win.