My Alpha Chose Her Instead

I have lived in the Silverpine Pack my entire life. I know the smell of the pine forests after rain, the sound of the pack house settling at night, the exact weight of Kian Mitchell's hand on the small of my back when he guides me through a crowded room. I know all of it the way you know your own heartbeat — without thinking, without questioning, because it has always been there.

Twenty years. That is how long Kian and I have been whatever we are to each other. The pack stopped needing a word for it a long time ago. Everyone simply knew.

I am Jocelyn Williamson. I am twenty-six years old, a mid-rank she-wolf of Silverpine, and for as long as I can remember, my place in this pack has been defined by one thing above all else: I am Kian's.

I believed that completely. Right up until the night of the banquet.

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The welcome feast for the Nighthollow delegation was held in the great hall, long tables draped in deep green and silver, the whole room warm with firelight and the low hum of pack chatter. I wore the dark blue dress Kian once said made my eyes look like the sky before a storm. I sat beside him at the Alpha's table, same as always, close enough that our arms touched.

It was a good night. For a while.

She came in about an hour into the feast. Victoria Alvarez — the transfer she-wolf from Nighthollow, here for the inter-pack Summit training alliance. I had seen her around the pack house for a few days by then. She was pretty in a careful, deliberate way, with dark hair and large eyes that always seemed to be asking for something without quite saying it out loud.

She approached our end of the table holding a folder of documents, her brow slightly creased, her voice soft and apologetic. "Alpha Kian, I'm so sorry to interrupt. I just had a few questions about the Summit formation review — I want to make sure I understand the protocols before tomorrow's drill."

Kian straightened. Something in his posture shifted, the way it does when he feels needed.

"Of course," he said. Then he turned to me. "Joss, can you move down? We need the space to spread these out."

I waited one beat. Just one. Long enough to see if he would catch himself, if he would add something — a sorry, a quick squeeze of my hand, anything that acknowledged what he was asking me to do.

Nothing.

So I stood up. I picked up my plate and my glass and I walked to the lower table, and I felt every pair of eyes in that hall track the movement. No one said a word. The silence was its own kind of noise.

Behind me, I heard Victoria settle into my chair. "Thank you so much," she said to Kian, warm and grateful, like he had just done