The Dumped Poor Girl Is the Alpha's Daughter

I'd been dating Dorian for a year.

He invited me to his house, claiming it was just a casual visit.

A casual visit? Yeah, right-more like a disguised meet-the-parents situation.

I kept it under wraps from my Alpha dad and only brought gifts that matched my income.

"Alice, my mom's pretty blunt, don't take it personally," .

Please. I've handled my fair share of Beta and Alpha friends. What's an aunt to me?

"Don't worry!" I said, patting my chest confidently.

But reality quickly slapped me in the face.

The moment we entered, I cheerfully greeted Aunt Sara. She gave me a cold glance, then turned and walked straight into the kitchen.

Wait. that's it?

I stood there, dumbfounded, and asked Dorian if his mom didn't like me.

"Don't overthink it," he said, ushering me toward the TV before heading into the kitchen himself.

Dorian's house was in Pack Castle's old district, a modest three-bedroom with average décor. Honestly, it was smaller than my bedroom.

"Alice, have some fruit." Aunt Sara came out with a large platter-mangoes, dragon fruit, bananas-and placed something unfamiliar in front of me.

A wriggling, translucent creature the size of a small fist.

"What... is this?" I stammered, blinking.

"Try it. You'll love it." Aunt Sara's smile was sharp, too practiced to be genuine.

It was a bloodfruit, the kind only found in the deepest parts of our Pack's territory. I hesitated, eyeing Dorian's reassuring nod. Maybe I was overthinking it.

Before I could decide, Aunt Sara spoke. "I heard your Pack's from the north. must be tough, huh? You guys don't exactly have the luxury we have here."

This wasn't just an awkward comment. It was an insult.

When I didn't respond, she continued, "Dorian's been spoiled. He grew up in the heart of the pack, you know, where the wolves really matter. You'd be lucky to get by in the outskirts, where your Pack probably lives. He's had everything: private lessons, training, foreign trips. I've spent more on him than I care to admit."

I shot a glance at Dorian.

He looked apologetic, but his gaze told me don't make a scene.

Aunt Sara saw my silence as an invitation to press on.

With a smirk, she reached for the bloodfruit, picking it up with delicate fingers, its slimy surface wriggling. She handed it to me, almost challenging me.

"I see you're hesitating, Alice. You really don't know how to handle this?."

Her tone was deliberate. My hand trembled as I took the fruit.

Just before I could snap, Dorian's voice cut through the tension. "Mom!"

"Watch how you speak! Alice isn't some packless weakling. She's more than capable of handling herself."

Aunt Sara's eyes burned with contempt, but she backed off, her lips curling into a sneer. "You're so protective of her, Dorian. It's pathetic." With that, she spun on her heel and marched back into the kitchen, her steps echoing like a silent threat.

The door slammed behind her.

I stood up,