Alpha's True Mate

The silence that followed my discovery lasted only seconds before shattering into something uglier than I could have imagined.

Noel's face transformed before my eyes—the tenderness I'd grown accustomed to vanishing like morning mist, replaced by something cold and calculating. He scrambled from the bed with surprising speed, pulling on his pants with practiced efficiency.

"Cora," he said, his voice steady as he addressed the woman beside him. "This is the pathetic little Omega I told you about."

Cora Hill—Beckham's future Luna—slid from the sheets with fluid grace, wrapping herself in a silk sheet that did nothing to diminish her regal bearing. Her golden-brown hair cascaded over her shoulders as she lifted her chin, looking down at me with undisguised contempt.

"So this is your mate?" she asked Noel, her voice dripping with disdain. "The one you've been stringing along?"

I stood frozen, my body numb with shock as they positioned themselves before me like royalty addressing a peasant.

"You should be grateful I even glanced your way," Noel sneered, his voice taking on an edge I'd never heard before. "You're nothing but a wolfless Omega, Claire. Did you really think someone like me would want someone like you?"

The words hit me like physical blows, each one designed to strike at my deepest insecurities. The mate bond between us pulsed with agony, but Noel showed no sign of discomfort—only contempt.

Cora's laugh cut through the air like glass. "Oh, darling," she said, addressing me with mock sweetness. "Did you really think you could compete with me? A future Luna?" She gestured dismissively with one perfectly manicured hand. "You're pathetic, hiding in the shadows like the weak little thing you are."

I felt something inside me cracking, but before I could respond, Noel stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.

"You should be thankful I gave you attention at all," he continued, his words precise and cutting. "Most ranked wolves wouldn't even look at someone like you. But you were... convenient."

"Convenient?" I whispered, the word barely audible.

"A placeholder," Cora supplied with a cruel smile. "Someone to keep him entertained until he found someone worthy of his attention."

They took turns then, their words becoming surgical strikes designed to destroy what little confidence I had left.

"You're delusional if you thought this was real," Noel said, his voice taking on the stolen alpha tone from his forged rank papers. "I never wanted you. I tolerated you."

"Poor little Claire," Cora mocked, her eyes glittering with malice. "Did you really believe a mate bond could make up for your complete lack of status? Your pathetic attempts to be useful..."

Each word drove deeper than the last, painting me as desperate, unstable, unworthy—a she-wolf so far beneath them that their very presence in the same room with me was somehow charitable.

I felt something shifting inside me—the pain giving way to something colder, harder.

Then Beckham stepped into the room.

His presence immediately changed the atmosphere. The air seemed to thicken with his dominant aura, and I watched as several pack members who had gathered in the hallway instinctively lowered their eyes and bared their necks in submission.

Noel's posture changed instantly.

"Alpha Beckham," he said, his voice suddenly respectful as he straightened his shoulders. "I can explain this situation."

Beckham's eyes swept the room, taking in the scene with calculating precision. His gaze lingered on me for a fraction longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering in their depths.

"She's been stalking me," Noel blurted out, pointing at me with an accusatory finger. "Claire has been obsessed with me for months. She's manufactured this entire mate bond situation through psychological manipulation."

I stared at him in disbelief as he continued his desperate fabrication.

"Alpha, you understand how these things work," Noel said, attempting to establish some sort of male solidarity with Beckham. "Sometimes these lower-ranked females don't understand their place in the hierarchy. They become... fixated."

Beckham's expression remained impassive, but I noticed his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly.

"I have documentation," Noel added quickly, producing a folder from beneath the bed. "My rank certification. I'm a legitimate ranked wolf from Silverfang Pack."

He flipped through the papers with practiced ease, showing them to Beckham's Beta who had entered behind his Alpha.

"These females," Noel continued, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone, "they don't always understand the burden we carry as ranked wolves. Sometimes we have to be... flexible... with how we handle their emotions."

The room fell silent.

Beckham's face transformed then—not with understanding or agreement, but with something far colder. His eyes narrowed to slits as he regarded Noel with undisguised disgust.

I watched as Noel's confident smile faltered, his tactical pivot crumbling before it could take root.