I don't come back to my Alpha again

The heavy iron gates of the Red Moon Pack’s forbidden grounds groaned open.

I stepped past the rusted bars, squinting against the harsh afternoon sun. Five years in the dark, damp caves had ruined my vision.

Marcus leaned against the hood of his black SUV. My husband. The Alpha.

"You look like trash, Bella," Marcus said, his voice flat.

I kept my mouth shut.

"I thought the rogues would have finished you off by now," he continued, crossing his muscular arms. "But you always were stubborn."

"Open the car door," I said.

Marcus didn't move. He smirked, stepping closer. "You missed a lot while you were locked away. Rebecca stayed by my side the entire five years. Every single day. Every single night."

I pressed my left hand firmly against my right bicep. Two days ago, a rogue wolf had pinned me against the boundary rocks. I snapped its neck, but not before its jaws tore through my muscle. The wound burned under my ruined shirt.

"She really blossomed," Marcus bragged, his eyes searching my face for a reaction. "Her body is flawless now. And in bed? She is incredible. She knows exactly how to please me. She begs for me in ways you never did."

If this were five years ago, I would have screamed. The proud, spoiled Alpha female inside me would have thrown a punch, summoned my wolf, and torn the parking lot apart.

Instead, I looked at his expensive shoes.

"Got it," I said.

Marcus frowned. His jaw tightened. "What did you say?"

"I said, got it," I repeated, my tone entirely empty. "Can we leave now? My arm is bleeding."

He stared at me, clearly disappointed that I hadn't thrown a tantrum. He yanked the passenger door open. "Get in."

The drive back to the Pack House passed in silence. I stared out the window, carefully guarding my injured arm against the bumps in the road.

When Marcus parked the SUV, he turned off the engine and glared at me. "Kevin is inside. Don't cause a scene."

"He's my son," I muttered.

"He's fifteen now," Marcus snapped. "He knows exactly what you did."

I shoved the door open and climbed out.

The Pack House loomed in front of me. The massive white pillars and double oak doors looked exactly the same. We walked inside. The familiar scent of pine cleaner and lemon polish hit my nose.

I stopped at the base of the grand staircase. My fingers grazed the polished wooden banister.

"Take your shoes off," Marcus ordered from behind me. "Don't track dirt on the rug."

I didn't hear him. The sight of those stairs pulled me violently into the past. The voices from ten years ago echoed in my ears, loud and sharp.

"“Marcus?”" I had called out that afternoon. "“Rebecca?”"

The three of us had been best friends since childhood. We shared everything.

I remembered pushing open the master bedroom door.

"“Oh, Marcus, yes,”" Rebecca moaned.

Naked limbs. Sweaty skin. Tangled together on my marital bed.

"“Get off my husband!”" my memory-self shrieked.

Marcus had jumped up, grabbing a sheet. "“Bella, calm down!”"

"“Calm down? She's my best friend!”"

My bones cracked. Fur sprouted along my arms. I summoned my wolf, ready to rip them both to pieces.

But Marcus shifted instantly. His massive gray Alpha wolf blocked my path, snapping his jaws inches from my face to protect his mistress.

Then, a small voice broke through the growls.

"“Let her attack.”"

I turned my head. Kevin stood in the hallway. He was only five years old, clutching a wooden toy block.

"“Kevin, go to your room!”" Marcus yelled.

"“Mom is a coward,”" Kevin said. His young eyes held zero warmth. "“She wouldn't really risk it all. She won't fight you.”"

The betrayal from my own pup shattered my mind. The fight drained out of me. I shifted back to human form, grabbed my car keys, and ran.

"“Pour another one,”" I slurred to the bartender an hour later. The neon lights of the downtown club blinded me.

"“Luna, you've had enough,”" the bartender replied.

"“Pour it!”" I screamed.

The world spun. The music distorted. Then, total darkness.

I woke up shivering. Wet grass clung to my cheek. The metallic smell of blood filled my nose.

"“Mom?”" I whispered, pushing myself up from the mud.

We were on the outskirts of the territory. My mother lay three feet away. Her eyes stared blankly at the moon. My father slumped over a fallen log, his throat completely shredded.

I looked down at my trembling hands. I gripped the pack's sacred silver artifact. It was coated in thick, red blood.

"“Bella!”" Marcus's voice boomed through the trees. A dozen pack guards surrounded me, their flashlights cutting through the dark.

"“I didn't do this,”" I sobbed, dropping the artifact. "“I swear!”"

"“Take the murderer to the forbidden zone,”" Marcus ordered.

"Are you deaf?"

Marcus's harsh voice yanked me back to the present. I blinked. The grand staircase came back into focus. My heart hammered against my ribs.

"I hear you," I said, my throat dry.

Footsteps sounded from above. I looked up.

A tall, broad-shouldered teenager walked down the steps. Kevin. He wore a dark gray sweater and held a heavy textbook in one hand.

He stopped halfway down. He looked at me like I was a piece of garbage rotting on the floorboards.

"Kevin," I said, taking a small step forward.

"Don't step on the rug," Kevin said, his voice cold and commanding. "Rebecca just vacuumed it. And you smell like a corpse."

Before I could answer, the kitchen door swung open.

A woman stepped into the foyer. She wore my old floral apron over a tight, expensive dress. Her hair was perfectly styled, and a smug smile played on her lips.

"Oh, Bella," Rebecca said, wiping her hands on my apron. "You're finally home. We have so much to catch up on."