After My Alpha Chose a Wolfless Rogue Over Me

The scent of burnt pine and rain always clung to Preston when he returned from patrol. It was a smell that used to make my wolf, Luna, whimper in gratitude—the scent of the man who pulled me from the ashes of my father’s pack house five years ago. Now, it just smelled like hypocrisy.

I sat at the mahogany desk in the Alpha’s office, the ledger for the Eclipse Pack open in front of me. The numbers didn't lie, even if my mate did. We were over budget on border security again, bleeding funds to protect territories that weren't even ours. Preston loved to play the hero, extending his reach far beyond what was sustainable, just so neighboring packs would owe him favors.

The heavy oak doors banged open, startling me. I didn't flinch, though. I learned long ago that flinching only fed his ego.

"Mariana!" Preston’s voice boomed, breathless and laced with that adrenaline high he got from a crisis. "Get the medical kit. Now!"

He strode into the room, mud tracking across the pristine rugs I had just paid to have cleaned. In his arms was a girl. She was small, frail, and trembling so hard her teeth chattered. She was soaked to the bone, her clothes little more than rags, and she smelled… clean. Not like a rogue who had been living rough for months. She smelled like rain and fear, but underneath, there was nothing. No wolf scent. She was wolfless.

"Preston," I said, standing slowly. "Who is this?"

"A rogue. I found her wandering the northern border," he said, his eyes wild with that savior light I knew too well. He laid her gently on the leather sofa, treating her like fine porcelain. "She’s hurt, Mariana. Don't just stand there."

I looked at the girl. She wasn't bleeding. She was just cold. "She needs a blanket and a hot meal, not a medical kit," I observed dryly.

The girl looked up at me with wide, watery eyes, shrinking back into the cushions. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to cause trouble."

Preston turned on me, a low growl vibrating in his chest. "Look at her, Mariana. She's terrified. Have you forgotten what it's like to have no one? To be pulled from the wreckage?"

The words were a slap in the face. He never let me forget. Every day of the last five years was a reminder that I was the broken thing he had fixed.

"I haven't forgotten," I said, my voice steady. "But bringing a rogue into the Alpha’s office is a security breach. We don't know who she is."

He scoffed, walking over to me. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a crushed bouquet of moon flowers. The white petals were bruised and wilting. He shoved them into my hands.

"For you," he said, patting my head condescendingly. "My good little rescue. Always worrying about the rules. Josie needs us. She needs *me*."

I looked down