After My Alpha Chose My Sister, I Walked Away

The pack documents felt heavy in my hands as I approached the study. Alpha Hayes had requested them urgently, and I'd hurried to deliver them personally, hoping for a rare moment alone with my mate. My heart fluttered with that familiar ache—the mate bond pulling me toward him like a moth to flame.

I pushed open the heavy oak door without knocking. "Alpha, I've brought the territorial reports you—"

The words died in my throat.

A scent hit me first—pine and musk intertwined with something floral and suffocating. Hayes's scent. And Skye's.

My half-sister's perfume had always been too strong, but now it seemed to fill the room, mingling with Hayes's in a way that made my stomach churn.

They were on the leather sofa by the fireplace. His hands tangled in her hair, her legs straddling his lap. Their lips moved against each other with hungry desperation.

"Margot." Hayes broke away, his voice rough. Not with guilt. With irritation.

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The documents slipped from my fingers, scattering across the Persian rug.

"What is she doing here?" Skye's voice dripped with disdain as she slowly unwound herself from Hayes. She didn't even bother to look embarrassed.

"I—I'm sorry," I stammered, backing toward the door. "I didn't mean to—"

"You should have knocked." Hayes straightened his shirt, his eyes avoiding mine.

Tears burned behind my eyes. "You asked for these immediately."

Skye's laugh was sharp and cruel. "Such a good little Omega. Always following orders."

I turned to flee, but Skye's voice stopped me. "Wait."

She crossed the room with predatory grace, her strong wolf's movements fluid and confident—everything I'd never be.

"Margot," she said, her voice suddenly sweet with false concern. "Are you upset? You shouldn't be. We're just... talking."

The lie hung between us, almost visible in the air.

"You know," she continued, stepping closer, "everyone expects Hayes to choose a proper Luna. Someone strong. Someone with a wolf."

"Skye," Hayes warned, but there was no real heat in it.

"He needs me," she whispered, close enough now that I could smell Hayes's scent on her skin. "Not some wolfless freak."

Something inside me cracked. "Don't call me that."

"Oh?" Her smile was vicious. "Then what should I call you? Little sister? Future Luna?" She laughed again. "I think not."

I felt her hands against my chest then—a hard, deliberate shove.

The world tilted. My feet left the ground. For one suspended moment, I hung in the air, eyes wide with shock.

Then I was falling.

The grand staircase rushed up to meet me. Each impact drove the breath from my lungs—shoulder, hip, head. Pain exploded through me as I tumbled down the polished wood, my body helpless to stop the descent.

The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was Skye's face at the top of the stairs, watching with cold satisfaction.

* * *

I woke to sterile white walls and the sharp smell of antiseptic.

"She's awake," someone said.

Blinking against