Jillian POV:
The morning sun was too bright. I sat at the kitchen island, staring at the marble. Alex was humming in the kitchen, playing the part of the perfect boyfriend.
"Here we are," Alex said, sliding a plate toward me.
Pancakes. Burnt at the edges.
"I made them myself," he said, leaning against the counter, checking his watch. "Eat up. I have a meeting."
I picked up the fork. My phone buzzed in my pocket. A synced message from "The Omega Prank."
Alex (Alpha): Made the stray eat the burnt ones. I'm saving my appetite for lunch with Charlotte.
I looked at the pancakes. I looked at him. He wasn't trying to poison me—he just didn't care enough to feed me properly. It was a small indignity, but it cut deeper than a knife.
"I'm not hungry," I said quietly.
Alex's eyes narrowed. The charm vanished, replaced by the Alpha's irritation. "I made breakfast. You eat it. Don't be ungrateful, Jillian. It's unbecoming."
He didn't wait for me to argue. He grabbed the plate, walked to the trash can, and scraped the food into the bin.
"Fine. Starve," he said cold. "I have a meeting at the pack house. Don't wait up."
The door clicked shut.
I didn't cry. I didn't throw up. I just sat there in the silence, staring at the trash can.
He treated me like an accessory. A doll to be played with and put on a shelf.
My phone buzzed again.
Charlotte (Beta): Did she cry?
Alex (Alpha): No. She's sulking. It's getting boring.
Boring. That's all I was.
I stood up and walked to the calendar.
You gave me the wrong mate, I told the Moon Goddess. But I will fix your mistake.
The ice in my heart was growing. I didn't need poison to feel dead inside.
