After I Gave Him My Wolf, He Chose Another

The Alpha Summit was supposed to be a celebration of strength, a gathering of the most powerful wolves in the region. For me, it was a sentence.

I smoothed the rough fabric of the servant’s uniform over my hips, the coarse material scratching against my skin. Just days ago, I had shared a bed with the Alpha of this pack. Now, I was pouring wine for men who wouldn’t even look me in the eye.

The Great Hall was suffocating. Heavy velvet drapes blocked out the moonlight, and the air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and expensive cologne. Laughter boomed from the head table, where Nicholas sat. He looked regal, powerful—everything I had sacrificed my wolf to help him become. Beside him sat Blaire Lewis, shimmering in a gown of silver silk that clung to her like second skin. She leaned into him, whispering something that made the corners of his mouth twitch upward.

My chest ached, a physical throb right behind my ribs where my wolf used to be.

"More wine, girl," a heavy-set Alpha from the Southern territories grunted, thrusting his goblet at me without turning his head.

"Yes, Alpha," I murmured, my voice trembling as I filled his glass. My hands shook. I was terrified of spilling a single drop, terrified of giving Nicholas another reason to look at me with that cold, detached stare.

The chatter in the room suddenly died down. The silence started at the head table and rippled outward until the only sound was the crackling of the hearth fire.

Blaire stood up. She held a small, velvet box in her hands. The room watched, captivated, as she turned to Nicholas.

"Alpha Cook," she began, her voice melodic and projecting effortlessly to the back of the hall. "Your leadership has brought the Silver Moon Pack into a new era of prosperity. My father, the Alpha King, recognizes your strength. But strength requires partnership."

She opened the box.

Inside lay a necklace of pure, uncut moonstone, suspended on a chain of white gold. A collective gasp swept through the room. I felt the blood drain from my face. Moonstone wasn't just jewelry. In our culture, giving moonstone was a courting gift—a declaration of intent to mate. It was a promise.

Nicholas stared at the stone. For a second, just a heartbeat, his eyes flickered toward me. I was standing in the shadows near a pillar, clutching a heavy tray of crystal glasses. Our eyes met. I pleaded with him silently, begging him to remember the nights we spent under the stars, the pain I endured to give him his power. *Don't do this, Nick. Please.*

He looked away.

He looked at the Elders sitting in the front row. They nodded, their expressions grim and approving. He looked at Blaire, who smiled with the confidence of a woman who had already won.

"I accept your gift," Nicholas said, his voice deep and resonating. "And the honor it brings."

Blaire moved closer, her fingers brushing the nape of his neck as she fastened the clasp. The intimacy of the gesture was a slap in the face. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, lingering just long enough to leave a mark of her dark red lipstick.

The tray slipped from my numb fingers.

*Crash.*

The sound of shattering crystal was deafening in the silent hall. Shards of glass exploded across the stone floor, wine splashing like blood against the pristine boots of the nearby guests.

Every head turned. Nicholas stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. His face wasn't filled with concern. It was twisted with humiliation.

"Clean it up," he snarled, his Alpha tone making my knees buckle. "Now."

I dropped to my knees, picking up the jagged pieces with bare hands. A shard sliced my palm, but I didn't feel the pain. I only felt the burning shame of his rejection, public and absolute.

***

The humiliation didn't end with the night.

The next morning, the sun had barely crested the horizon when the door to my small room in the servants' quarters was kicked open. Two of the pack's enforcers marched in, followed by Blaire. She looked fresh and vibrant, while I was still wearing the wine-stained uniform from the night before.

"Search the bed," she commanded, her nose wrinkling as she looked around my cramped space.

"What is going on?" I asked, scrambling backward against the wall. "Blaire, what are you doing?"

"That's *Lady* Blaire to you, traitor," she spat.

The enforcer flipped my thin mattress. There, taped to the wooden slats, was a small black device blinking with a faint red light.

"Found it," the guard said, ripping it free. "High-frequency transmitter. Military grade."

My stomach dropped. "I've never seen that before! Someone put that there!"

"Save it for the Alpha," Blaire said, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "Drag her to the courtyard."

They hauled me out, my bare feet scraping against the gravel. The commotion drew a crowd. Pack members, visiting dignitaries, and Nicholas all gathered in the center of the compound.

Blaire tossed the device at Nicholas's feet. "We found this under her mattress, Nicholas. It contains the patrol routes for the entire northern border. The exact location where the rogues attacked us."

The murmurs of the crowd turned into angry growls.

"That's a lie!" I screamed, struggling against the guard's grip. "Nicholas, look at me! You know me! I gave up everything for you! Why would I help rogues attack us?"

Nicholas picked up the device, turning it over in his hand. His expression was unreadable, a mask of stone.

"Use your senses!" I begged, tears streaming down my face. "Smell the device! Does it smell like me? Or does it smell like *her*?"

I pointed a shaking finger at Blaire. Her scent was floral and sweet, masking everything, but an Alpha of his power could push past it. He could taste the truth in the air if he wanted to. He could feel my distress, my honesty through the bond that still faintly pulsed between us.

Nicholas looked at the device. Then he looked at Blaire. She offered him a look of feigned concern, a silent reminder of the alliance, the power, the crown that awaited him.

He didn't sniff the air. He didn't reach for our bond.

He closed his fist around the transmitter.

"Lock her in the cells," Nicholas ordered, his voice devoid of emotion. "We will decide her punishment after the Summit concludes."

"Nicholas!" I screamed as they dragged me away. "I am your mate!"

He turned his back on me, walking toward Blaire, leaving me to the darkness of the dungeons and the crushing weight of a truth I finally had to accept: the boy I loved was dead, and the Alpha who replaced him was my executioner.