Betrayed by My Alpha Mate

The jewelry receipt crinkled between my trembling fingers as I stared at the numbers that made my stomach churn. Fifteen thousand dollars. For a diamond necklace. While our pack healer Elena had been begging for basic medical supplies for weeks.

I pushed open Albert's office door without knocking, my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin. He looked up from his desk, annoyance flashing across his features before settling into that familiar mask of indifference.

"Birdie. What do you want? I'm busy."

I placed the receipt on his mahogany desk—the same desk I'd helped him purchase three years ago when we'd first moved into the pack house. "Care to explain this?"

Albert barely glanced at the paper before leaning back in his leather chair. "It's jewelry. What's there to explain?"

"Fifteen thousand dollars, Albert. From the emergency fund." My voice remained steady despite the fire building in my chest. "The same fund you said was depleted when Elena asked for antibiotics last week."

His jaw tightened, and I caught the familiar scent of his agitation—sharp and metallic, like copper pennies. "I don't need to justify my decisions to you, Birdie. I'm the Alpha of this pack."

"With my money." The words escaped before I could stop them, hanging in the air like a challenge.

Albert's eyes darkened, his wolf pressing against the surface. "Your money? Since when do mates keep score? Everything we have belongs to the pack—to us."

"Us?" I laughed, the sound bitter even to my own ears. "When was the last time you consulted me about pack finances? When was the last time you treated any of this as 'ours'?"

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor. "You're being ridiculous. And jealous. It doesn't suit you."

Jealous. The word hit like a physical blow, but not because it was true—because of how easily he dismissed my legitimate concerns. "This isn't about jealousy, Albert. This is about responsibility. About the pack members who are suffering while you—"

"While I what?" His voice carried that Alpha tone he'd been using more frequently lately, the one that used to make me submit instantly. But something had shifted inside me, some protective barrier finally cracking. "While I make decisions that benefit this pack? While I maintain important relationships that could secure our future?"

Important relationships. My wolf snarled at the euphemism.

Two weeks later, Albert stood in my office—the small room I'd converted from a storage closet to manage the pack's books. His presence filled the doorway, but for the first time in four years, it didn't make me feel safe.

"Birdie, we need to discuss the monthly transfer."

I didn't look up from my ledger, where neat columns of numbers told the story of my devotion in dollars and cents. Eight thousand a month for four years. Nearly four hundred thousand dollars, not counting the initial investment that had saved his pack from bankruptcy.

"There won't be a transfer this month."

The silence stretched between us like a taut wire. When I finally raised my eyes, Albert's face had gone pale.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said." I closed the ledger with a soft thud. "All pack accounts are now frozen pending my approval for any expenditures over fifty dollars."

"You can't be serious." His voice cracked slightly, the Alpha facade slipping. "Birdie, the pack depends on that money. We have obligations—"

"Like diamond necklaces?"

His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "That was... that was different. A one-time thing."

"Was it?" I pulled out a manila folder I'd been dreading to compile. "Three thousand for designer shoes. Five hundred for premium steaks—not for pack dinners, but for private meals. Eight hundred for wine that never made it to pack celebrations."

Each number was a small betrayal, a tiny cut that had slowly bled me dry.

"Birdie, please. You're overreacting. Let's discuss this rationally—"

"Rationally?" I stood, my chair rolling back against the wall. "I've been rational for four years, Albert. I've been understanding and supportive and generous. And where has it gotten me?"

The pack dinner three nights later should have been a peaceful affair. Luna Moreno had insisted on preparing a special meal to "bring the pack together," though her pointed glances in my direction suggested other motives. I sat at Albert's right hand, the position that had once filled me with pride but now felt like a gilded cage.

Angelica Phillips served the soup herself, her smile bright as summer sunshine as she placed the bowl before me. "I made this especially for you, Luna Birdie. A family recipe."

The first spoonful tasted normal—rich and savory with hints of herbs I couldn't identify. But by the third, my throat began to burn. By the fifth, my vision blurred at the edges.

The spoon clattered to the table as tremors seized my hands. The room tilted, voices becoming distant echoes as my wolf retreated deep inside me, whimpering in distress.

"Birdie?" Someone's voice, concerned but far away.

I tried to speak, to explain that something was wrong, but my throat had closed to a pinprick. The burning sensation spread through my chest, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged bird.

Then Albert's voice cut through the haze, sharp and accusatory: "Oh, for Moon's sake. Really, Birdie? Now?"

Through my failing vision, I saw him standing over me, his expression not of concern but of disgust. "This is exactly the kind of manipulation I was talking about. Creating drama to get attention."

My body hit the floor as darkness claimed me, but not before I heard Angelica's sweet voice offering to help me to my room, the picture of innocent concern.