Chapter 3
The next morning, I handed in my resignation letter to the pack’s Beta, Winifred. She took it with a sympathetic nod, her eyes lingering on me as if she wanted to say more but held her tongue.
Roger Stewart, the former Alpha of the Stewart Pack, was the first to hear about it. He summoned me to the pack’s estate for lunch, insisting I bring Joseph with me. I wasn’t surprised—Roger had always been one to meddle in pack affairs, even after stepping down as Alpha.
It was well past lunchtime when Joseph finally arrived, his presence as commanding as ever. His dark eyes flicked toward me briefly before he took his seat, a fresh mark on his neck glaringly obvious. He made no effort to hide it, as if daring anyone to comment.
Roger’s gaze hardened as he looked at his son. “You’ve been with Elise again,” he said, his voice low but firm. “I’ve warned you countless times that she’s trouble. Zhuri has done so much for this pack—how can you not appreciate that?”
I kept my eyes on my plate, eating in silence. Joseph shot me a glance, his lips curling into a smirk. “Dad, you claim Elise only wants to destabilize the pack, but she hasn’t done anything to harm us. Meanwhile, Zhuri holds all the authority. Even I, as Alpha, have to consider her every word carefully.”
I clenched my fork tighter, the injustice of his words burning through me.
“Last month,” Joseph continued, his tone dripping with disdain, “I wanted to allocate resources to Elise’s rogue pack for a joint training initiative, but Zhuri shot it down immediately.”
So this was what Joseph thought of me. All my efforts to protect the pack, to uphold our traditions, were reduced to petty jealousy.
Roger eyed me with suspicion, and I finally spoke up. “The Stewart Pack has established alliances. Elise’s pack is competing with our allies. I didn’t see any issue in turning down the proposal.”
Joseph sneered, “Zhuri, you’re quite the strategist. You can’t stand Elise’s success. No matter how hard you work, you’ll never match even a fraction of her strength or cunning.”
Roger glared at him. “Stop talking nonsense! Zhuri isn’t like that!”
But the favoritism in Roger’s tone was clear. He and Joseph always played this game—good cop, bad cop—and I was the one caught in the middle.
Joseph leaned back in his chair, his smirk widening. “Dad, she’s got you fooled. I merely went on a run with Elise once before our bonding ceremony, and she rushed to report it to you. I’m the Alpha; do I need permission to enjoy myself?”
Roger turned to me, his expression softening but his words still laced with disapproval. “Zhuri, resigning over something so trivial doesn’t look good. The Stewart Pack gave you this chance, and you’re letting a quarrel with Joseph ruin it?”
The absurdity of the situation struck me. I had fought for this pack, protected it from rogue threats, and yet it was portrayed as if they had handed me an opportunity out of pity.
I dabbed my lips with a napkin, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “Alpha Roger, I’m not being impulsive. I truly want to resign.”
“Joseph’s right,” I continued, meeting his gaze. “He’s the Alpha of the Stewart Pack, and I have no right to meddle with his decisions. Whatever he wants to do, he’s free to do it. I won’t be involved anymore.”
With that, I stood and walked away, not wanting to glance back at that domineering father-son duo. My wolf stirred within me, a low growl of frustration echoing in my mind, but I pushed it down.
Maybe it was the cold lunch, or perhaps the stress of the day, but my chronic stomach issues flared up again. I curled up on the bed in my room, clutching my abdomen as pain radiated through me.
Joseph just stood there, arms crossed, watching me with indifference. “Zhuri, stop the act,” he said, his tone dismissive. “Don’t think feigning illness will make me forgive your meddling!”
He sat calmly on the couch, typing away on his phone, then smiled smugly and stepped over my trembling body.
My voice quivered as I reached out to him. “Joseph, it really hurts. Could you take me to the healer?”
He leaned down and wiped the sweat from my forehead, his touch cold and clinical. “Good performance, but I’m not buying it.”
He laughed derisively, then sneered, “I know you’re envious of Elise, but our bonding ceremony is happening. Can’t you give me seven days to properly say goodbye to her?”
“Get up; stop the theatrics. I have an appointment with Elise this afternoon to finalize the details.”
I reached out to grab him, but all I saw was his emotionless back walking away.
For seven years, I’ve witnessed this countless times. I once believed I could stand by his side as his Luna, his equal. Now I understand—the place next to him is meant for one person only. Anyone else is just a placeholder.
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