My Alpha Believed Her Lies Over Our Bond

I had spent the entire day preparing for this moment. Our seventh mating anniversary. Seven years since Matthew had claimed me as his Luna, since I'd given up my career as an art restorer to stand by his side as Alpha of the Black Moon Pack. Seven years of sacrifice that I had believed would eventually be recognized, even cherished.

The grand dining hall looked perfect—candles flickering in every corner, casting a warm glow over the white tablecloth and the fine china I'd polished myself. I'd cooked Matthew's favorite meal, the same one I'd prepared on our first anniversary, when hope still bloomed in my chest like a perennial flower that refused to die.

My hands trembled slightly as I adjusted the silverware. The scars on my palms—evidence of countless small cruelties endured in this very packhouse—caught the candlelight. I tucked them under the table, out of sight. Tonight would be different. Tonight Matthew would see me.

'Luna Penelope?' A young Omega server appeared at the doorway, her eyes downcast. 'Alpha Matthew says he'll be delayed. The Omega quarters needed his immediate attention.'

My heart sank, but I maintained my composure. 'Thank you. I'll wait.'

Of course he was with Loretta. Matthew's foster sister, the pack's precious 'disabled' Omega, always seemed to have emergencies that required his presence exactly when I needed him most.

I sipped my wine, watching the candles slowly melt. The longer I waited, the more the familiar ache in my chest intensified—the hollow space where my wolf once roared with pride, now subdued to a whisper from years of neglect and emotional starvation.

The grand doors swung open. Not Matthew, but Loretta, gliding in her wheelchair with that practiced vulnerability that made my teeth clench. Behind her, a procession of pack Omegas carried tureens and platters.

'Oh, Penelope!' Her voice dripped with false concern. 'I saw all this food going to waste. Matthew mentioned you were waiting, but he's so busy with pack business. I thought I'd save you the trouble of eating alone.'

Before I could respond, she wheeled closer, her eyes gleaming with malice beneath her mask of innocence. 'You've gone to so much trouble. It's almost... pathetic.'

The Omegas behind her snickered, their loyalty to Loretta evident in their brazen disrespect for their Luna.

'This is a private dinner for my mate,' I said, my voice steadier than I felt. 'If you'd kindly—'

Loretta's chair suddenly jerked forward. She 'tripped' on nothing, her hands flailing dramatically as the tureen of hot soup in her lap upended, splashing across my chest and arms in a scalding wave of pain.

I gasped, jumping back, my skin instantly blistering under the assault. The burning sensation spread like wildfire through my blouse, searing into flesh that had already endured too many wounds.

'Oh my goddess!' Loretta cried out, her voice pitched perfectly to carry. 'Help! I'm so sorry, I'm so clumsy! Someone help me!' Her wheelchair tipped sideways, and she collapsed onto the floor in a performance