My Alpha Rejected Me for the Pack’s Traitor

The stack of budget reports in my arms felt heavier than usual, a physical weight mirroring the dread settling in my stomach. The Silver Moon Pack was hemorrhaging money, and the eastern perimeter wards were failing. As the Beta’s daughter and the unacknowledged Luna, it was my job to fix it. It had always been my job.

I stopped outside the heavy oak doors of the Alpha’s office. It was late, the eve of the Summer Solstice Ball, and the hallway was silent. I didn't bother knocking; Dawson and I had been inseparable since we were five. We were fated. Everyone knew it, even if the official marking ceremony hadn't happened yet.

I pushed the door open. "Dawson, we need to authorize the repair crews for the—"

The words died in my throat. The air in the office was thick, suffocatingly hot, and drenched in a scent that made my inner wolf bristle with hostility. It wasn't just the earthy, pine forest smell of Dawson. It was cloying. Sickeningly sweet. Synthetic vanilla and musk.

*Sasha.*

Dawson was sitting behind his mahogany desk, but his shirt was unbuttoned halfway, his hair messy in a way that didn't come from stress. He looked up, his golden eyes flashing with annoyance rather than guilt.

"Caroline," he sighed, leaning back. "Can't a man get a moment of peace?"

I stepped further into the room, the door clicking shut behind me. The smell was overwhelming now, mingled heavily with the undeniable pheromones of recent intimacy. My stomach churned. "You have someone in here?"

"Don't start," Dawson snapped, waving a dismissive hand. "You're always seeing ghosts, Caroline. It's the cleaning products."

"Cleaning products don't smell like Sasha Perkins' cheap perfume," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "And they certainly don't explain why you smell like sex, Dawson."

He stood up abruptly, slamming his hands on the desk. "I am the Alpha! I don't answer to you yet. You're suffocating me with this constant nagging. 'Sign this, fix that, watch the budget.' You're imagining things because you're jealous and overworked. Now get out."

I stared at him, the man I was supposed to spend eternity with. He wasn't just lying; he was gaslighting me about reality itself. I placed the files on the edge of his desk with trembling fingers. "The wards will fail within the week without these signatures. If rogues get in, that's on you."

I turned and walked out before he could see the tears welling in my eyes.

I retreated to the Pack House, needing the sanctuary of my room. But the night wasn't done with me. As I reached the grand staircase, movement caught my eye. Sasha Perkins was descending the stairs, a smug smile playing on her lips. She was wearing a silk robe that was far too expensive for an Omega's salary.

But it wasn't the robe that stopped my heart. It was the glint of silver around her neck.

The ancestral Luna Necklace. A delicate chain holding a teardrop