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.
