Burned by the Alpha Who Chose Another

I’ve applied for a transfer to the Lunar Crescent Pack, and my flight leaves in three days.

The following day, Freya’s Instagram was brimming with pictures of her and Isaiah being affectionate. They were kissing by the ocean, taking in the view from a Ferris wheel at night, and splurging at high-end stores. Meanwhile, Isaiah’s Facebook was as dull as his excuses, filled only with pack-related photos. Freya responded to one of his posts with a disappointed emoji. To onlookers, it seemed as though Isaiah, the Beta of the Crimson Fang Pack, was just diligently working with his assistant by his side. Little did they know, the young Omega was upset that the man she adored wouldn’t showcase her on his profile like she did with him.

Freya, fresh out of college, wanted the pack to see her romance. That’s why she added me on social media long ago, not bothering to hide her posts from me. Maybe it was supposed to be a show of victory. Numerous comments flooded in, including some playful digs from Isaiah’s close friends.

"Looks like Beta Isaiah’s having a blast with the new girlfriend!"

"Ah, young love!"

I couldn’t help but type a response below: "A perfect pairing of brains and beauty. The scenery’s stunning, and so are the people. Remind Beta Isaiah to take it easy."

Suddenly, the flood of comments came to a standstill, as if splashed with cold water. After a while, Isaiah left a reply: "The young Omega’s never been abroad before. She got a bit too carried away, took a few extra photos."

Isaiah tried calling me, but I didn’t answer. Then a text followed: "Freya was just getting used to the local customs, soaking up some new experiences. Your comment was out of line. She's worried you'll be upset."

"You should delete your comment and explain it to her, or she’ll be stressed all night."

I couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief.

"If your assistant is upset, she’s already being comforted by her Beta, I’m sure. The beauty in your arms should be fine now, Isaiah."

If I guessed right, Freya was probably nestled in Isaiah’s arms right now, crying and seeking reassurance. Just like the night after I left, she had clung to him, sobbing, "Did I upset Araceli?"

Isaiah gently wiped away her tears, lifted her up, and according to the clear surveillance footage I saw, they spent the night cozied up in the honeymoon suite I had booked.

Those words seemed to enrage Isaiah, prompting another call. This time, I answered, and he immediately began scolding.

"Araceli, having a sharp tongue just makes a woman off-putting, even more so."

Even more, huh? He chose his words well, once again showing the underlying contempt he felt for me.

But Isaiah, you disgust me even more.

"Freya is just an innocent young Omega, not like you—older, and much more calculating."

I asked him, "Isaiah, what did I say?"

Isaiah paused, his words faltering. What I said was vague enough. Advising an Omega to be mindful of her Beta’s well-being is perfectly ordinary. Only someone with a guilty conscience would overthink it, get angry, and lash out first.

It seemed the only way for him to seize the upper hand and speak self-righteously.

I continued calmly, "Or is there something you’re hiding that's making you react so strongly?"

Before Isaiah could reply, a soft, tearful voice came from his side, "I’m sorry, Beta, it's all my fault. Please don’t argue with Araceli. I’ll delete the post now and won’t share anything anymore."

Isaiah snapped with a harsh remark: "Smooth talker. Since you still don’t see your mistake, our marking ceremony is indefinitely postponed. Even someone as young as Freya is more sensible than you."

Then, without waiting for my reply, he abruptly hung up.

I gripped my phone tightly, my fingertips turning white from the pressure. Isaiah spoke with such certainty, backed by his own smug sense of security.

Whenever we argued, I would be the first to back down and apologize, feeling sorry for how hard he worked, not wanting him to come home to more trouble. In his mind, as long as he completed whatever he deemed ‘pack duties’ and returned home looking sour, speaking coldly to me, and giving me a pitying look, I would cater to him. I’d even make a spread of his favorite dishes, pleading with him to eat.

Even his packmates believed I couldn’t live without him.

"Araceli will make up with Beta Isaiah within three days of a fight."

"An Omega who acts like that is something else."

"I used to envy Beta Isaiah at first, but after seeing it so much, she’s like a loyal puppy, never getting mad no matter how much you tease her."

"That’s why you don’t have to treat her like a person, hahaha."

I let out a bitter laugh.

The signs had been there all along.

If Isaiah truly respected me, would his packmates dare say such things right in front of him?

It was because he was the one who genuinely saw me as nothing more than a performing puppet, there for his amusement.

I was just caught up in the fantasy of the mate bond, living an absurd life.