Rejected by the Pack’s False King

Romina slid into Cyrus's car, her presence a stark reminder of the shifting dynamics in the pack. The Alpha glanced at me, his voice casual but laced with that commanding tone only an Alpha could wield. "Millie, do you need a ride back to the packhouse?" he asked, his piercing gaze lingering just long enough to make my wolf stir uneasily. I shook my head politely. "No, thank you, Alpha. I was planning to take some time for myself today."

For three years, I’d never missed a single duty, never shirked my responsibilities as Gamma. But today, I was ready to break that streak. According to pack law, I still had a month to transition my duties before I could officially leave. In the meantime, it was crucial not to provoke the Alpha’s ire; otherwise, my departure could become far messier than I wanted it to be.

I didn’t return to the packhouse that afternoon. Romina didn’t either. The next morning, whispers began to ripple through the halls of the Blue Moon Pack. My packmates no longer tiptoed around me; instead, they approached me with a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled excitement. "Millie, did you hear? The new Delta is going to be the Alpha’s personal assistant too," one of them said, her voice dripping with implication.

Their use of "too" was a deliberate jab. For the past three years, I had been the only one in that role. I kept my expression neutral and replied, "The pack is growing, and the Alpha has many responsibilities. It’s only natural he’d need more support."

"Millie, just so you know, this morning, that Delta got out of the Alpha’s car," another packmate chimed in, her eyes wide with gossip.

So, the perks of the Alpha’s favor were now being lavished on someone else.

"And get this—the Alpha’s driver even opened the door for her," she added, as if that detail somehow made it worse.

I forced a chuckle, masking the ache in my chest. "Alright, enough with the rumors. If the Alpha hears about this, you’ll all be in trouble."

Deltas usually wore the standard pack attire, but Romina had arrived in a brand-new dress today. She looked polished, almost regal, as if she were already staking her claim as the Alpha’s mate.

When I arrived at the packhouse, I found my desk had been moved from its prime spot next to the Alpha’s private office. Romina was overseeing the relocation, her voice firm as she instructed the pack members, "Be careful not to damage Millie’s belongings."

Just as she spoke, my water cup—a gift from the Alpha—fell to the floor and shattered. Everyone froze. The cup had been a symbol of my place in the pack, a reminder of the bond I’d once shared with Cyrus. It had always sat on my desk, never tucked away in a drawer.

Romina’s face flushed with panic. "What’s going on? You broke the cup!" she snapped, her voice rising.

The pack members moving the desk looked mortified, their eyes darting between Romina and me. I stepped forward, my tone calm despite the storm brewing inside me. "It’s fine," I said, my voice steady. "It’s just a cup. No big deal."

I’d already let go of so much. A cup, no matter how sentimental, wasn’t worth the drama.

My desk was now in the open area, a clear demotion from my former position. I sat down without protest, though the sting of humiliation lingered. On the desk was a note, hastily scribbled:

"Millie, I work better without distractions, and the Alpha said it’s not ideal for me to sit with everyone else. I moved you to a different spot. Hope you’re okay with it."

It wasn’t the message that irked me—it was the sloppy handwriting, a stark contrast to the precision I’d come to expect from my packmates. I crumpled the note in my hand, my jaw tightening. My wolf growled softly in the back of my mind, urging me to stand my ground, but I pushed her down. Now wasn’t the time for defiance.