Betrayed by Alpha Mate

I stumbled back to Silvercrest Pack territory, my mind still reeling from the humiliation at the inter-pack gathering. Luna paced restlessly within me, her rage a tangible force threatening to tear through my skin.

"Control yourself," I whispered, one hand protectively cradling my swollen belly. "We need to think, not react."

The pack grounds were quiet as I entered, most members avoiding my gaze. News traveled fast in wolf packs—they all knew what had happened. I straightened my spine and lifted my chin, refusing to show weakness.

"I am still Luna of this pack," I reminded myself, touching the mark on my neck that bonded me to Dylan.

With newfound resolve, I made my way to the pack administration building. As Luna, I had access to records and communications that might reveal what Dylan was planning.

"I need to review the quarterly territory reports," I told Marcus, who guarded the entrance. "Alpha Dylan requested my input."

Marcus hesitated, his eyes darting to my face. "Luna Grace, I'm not sure—"

"Are you questioning my authority?" I kept my voice level but let a hint of Luna's power seep through.

"No, Luna." He stepped aside, allowing me entry.

Once inside, I made my way to Dylan's private office. The room still smelled of him—pine and earth and power—but underneath lurked another scent. Floral. Sweet. Her.

I pushed the thought away and sat at his desk, accessing the pack's financial records. What I found made my blood run cold.

For months, Dylan had been systematically transferring pack resources—land deeds, financial accounts, even ancient artifacts—to a separate territory at the northern border. A territory registered under one name: Cynthia Green.

"He's building her a kingdom," Luna growled within me.

I dug deeper, my fingers trembling as I uncovered more. Construction permits for a new pack house. Security systems. Even a nursery design.

My hand instinctively moved to my stomach as a wave of nausea hit me. "No," I whispered. "It can't be."

But the medical records confirmed my worst fear. Cynthia Green was pregnant with Dylan's pup. The estimated due date was just three weeks after mine.

Luna's howl of anguish echoed through my mind, clawing at my consciousness with such force that I doubled over.

"Rip her apart!" Luna demanded. "Tear her throat out! Protect our mate and our pup!"

"No," I gasped, forcing myself to breathe through the rage. "We need to be smarter than that."

I closed the files and carefully erased all evidence of my presence. Dylan couldn't know I'd discovered his plans—not yet.

Back in my quarters, I pulled out a small communication device I'd kept hidden since the Hart Pack massacre. It was time to reach out to the one person who might understand what I was going through.

"Mrs. Johnson," I whispered into the device. "I need you."

Three hours later, I sat in a small cabin at the edge of neutral territory, facing the woman who had raised me after my parents' death.

"You look terrible," Mrs. Johnson said bluntly, her weathered hands grasping mine.

"I feel worse," I admitted, the tears finally breaking free.

She listened silently as I recounted everything—the photos, the necklace, the resources being diverted, the pregnancy.

"There's something not right about this Cynthia," Mrs. Johnson said when I finished. "No she-wolf could infiltrate an Alpha's defenses so quickly unless..."

"Unless what?" I prompted.

"Unless she's not what she seems." Mrs. Johnson's eyes narrowed. "I'll investigate her background. In the meantime, you need to stay strong and think strategically."

For the first time since seeing Dylan with Cynthia, I felt a glimmer of hope. I wasn't alone anymore.

Three days later, Dylan returned to the pack. I was in our quarters when he appeared, his expression unreadable.

"We need to talk," he said coldly.

I followed him to his office, my heart pounding. He closed the door behind us and turned to face me.

"I'm keeping both of you," he stated flatly.

"What?" I whispered, though I'd suspected this was coming.

"You as my marked Luna for political stability and pack legitimacy." His eyes were devoid of emotion. "Cynthia as my chosen mate for passion and genuine connection."

The words hit me like physical blows. "You can't do that," I said, my voice shaking. "The Moon Goddess—"

"The Moon Goddess gave me this position," he cut me off. "And as Alpha, I decide what's best for this pack."

He stepped closer, his Alpha aura pressing down on me. "You will not interfere with my relationship with Cynthia. That is an Alpha command."

I felt the weight of his words like chains around my neck. Luna snarled and fought against the command, but even she couldn't resist an Alpha's direct order.

"Do you understand?" he demanded.

I had no choice but to nod, though inside, something hardened into resolve.

"Yes, Alpha," I whispered, hating how easily the words came.

As he turned away, satisfied with my submission, I caught something in his eyes—a flicker of doubt, perhaps even regret.

Too little, too late.