
After My Alpha Chose Her, I Took His Throne
Chapter 2
Morning light filtered through the curtains of my bedroom, but I hadn't slept. My eyes burned as I stared at the ceiling, replaying Lucca's words over and over: 'There will be no ceremony tomorrow.' The mate bond we'd celebrated since childhood, the promise he'd made when he pulled me from that river—all of it shattered by a she-wolf with auburn hair and a scent that had captured his wolf's attention. My thumb pressed against my wrist, seeking the mark that wasn't there, the final bond that had been denied me at the last moment.
A sharp knock jolted me from my thoughts. Before I could respond, the door opened, and Luna Rivers—Lucca's mother—stood in the doorway, her silver-streaked hair perfectly coiffed despite the early hour. Her eyes held none of the warmth a mother-in-law should show; they were calculating, assessing my state with clinical precision.
'Lakelyn,' she said, her voice smooth as silk but cold as winter frost. 'We need to talk.'
She ushered me to her private parlor, a room I'd visited countless times before, yet today it felt like a tribunal. I sat across from her at the ornate table, my hands trembling slightly in my lap. Without preamble, she slid a small crystal vial toward me.
'The fertility tonic,' she explained, as if discussing the weather. 'It's time you started taking it regularly.'
I stared at the vial, its amber liquid catching the light. 'But the ceremony—'
'Is postponed, I'm aware.' Her interruption was swift, final. 'My son has pack matters to attend to. Temporary distractions.' Her eyes narrowed slightly. 'Your purpose remains unchanged, Lakelyn. You will bear the Silverfang heir. Everything else is secondary.'
The bitterness of her words sank into me, crystallizing something that had been forming since last night. I wasn't a mate to be cherished; I was a vessel for the Rivers bloodline. My devotion meant nothing if it wasn't tied to my function.
I uncorked the vial, the sharp herbal scent making my nose wrinkle. With deliberate movements, I raised it to my lips and drank. The liquid burned down my throat, a physical manifestation of the realization dawning within me: if devotion brought only pain, then I needed power.
'There,' I said, setting the empty vial on the table. 'Is there anything else, Luna Rivers?'
Something like approval flickered in her eyes. 'No. You may go.'
That evening, I found myself at the edge of pack territory, in the ramshackle collection of cabins where the Omegas lived. I'd never ventured here before—it was beneath the notice of a future Luna. But tonight, I needed what this place offered.
The cold bit deeper here, the wind whistling through poorly maintained walls. I spotted him immediately: a tall figure splitting logs with methodical precision, his breath forming clouds in the frigid air. Eren Rivers. Lucca's illegitimate half-brother. The outcast.
He paused mid-swing when he caught my scent, his eyes widening slightly before narrowing with suspicion. 'Luna-in-waiting,' he said, his voice deeper than I expected. 'This isn't your territory.'
'I need to speak with you.' I stepped closer, noting how he tensed, ready to retreat or defend. 'I have a proposition.'
He set down the axe, wiping his hands on his worn jeans. 'I'm listening.'
'I want you to be my suitor,' I said bluntly, watching his expression carefully. 'Not my mate—my pretend suitor. To make Lucca jealous.'
A flicker of something—surprise? amusement?—crossed his face before his mask of indifference returned. 'And why would I do that for you?'
'Because I can protect you.' I stepped closer, my voice dropping. 'As Luna-in-waiting, I can shield you from exile. Permanently.'
He studied me for a long moment, his gaze penetrating in a way that made me feel seen—not as a title, but as a person. Finally, he nodded once. 'I accept.'
Two days later, I stood in my family's estate, watching as Eren emerged from the dressing room in a tailored suit that rivaled anything Lucca wore. The transformation was startling—the Omega's broad shoulders and quiet intensity suddenly framed in a way that made him look every bit the Alpha heir.
'You clean up well,' I remarked, circling him to adjust the cuffs.
'Is that admiration I hear?' A hint of dry humor colored his tone.
I met his gaze, surprised by the steadiness I found there. 'It's strategy. The annual gala is in three days. We need to make an impression.'
As I reached up to straighten his tie, our hands brushed, and a jolt of awareness shot through me. For a moment, his scent—pine and something darker, more primal—overwhelmed my senses, and I found myself leaning closer, drawn by something I couldn't name.
His breath hitched, but he didn't pull away. Instead, his eyes darkened, and I realized with a start that this game we were playing might be more dangerous than either of us had anticipated.
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