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Betrayed by My Alpha, I Chose His Rival Novel Cover

Betrayed by My Alpha, I Chose His Rival

Sienna's world shatters when her fated mate, Ronan, postpones their wedding—seven years of devotion and 120 guests sacrificed for a bet made for her best friend. When he dismisses her anguish as drama, she severs their bond, walks away, and accepts the proposal of Callum Voss, Ronan's most hated rival. Three days later, she's Luna of Ironcrest. Ronan returns, desperate to reclaim her, but Sienna has found a new Alpha who refuses to let her go.
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Chapter 2

The silence lasted one heartbeat.

Then Jace slammed his palm on the table. "Yes! Now we're talking!"

Two of the groomsmen whooped. One of them, a lanky wolf named Theo, dug into his vest pocket and slapped a pale blue stone onto the felt.

"I'll put up my moonstone for the stakes," he said. "Win it back, Sienna. Win the whole damn wedding back."

Someone started a slow clap. Someone else laughed.

Brielle didn't laugh. Her fingers closed around her wine glass so hard her knuckles went white. Her eyes darted to Ronan, then to me, then back to Ronan.

She hadn't planned for this. In seven years, I had never once fought back.

I slid the silver dice cup across the table until it stopped in front of her.

"If I win," I said, "you give me back tomorrow's wedding."

Brielle wet her lips. Her chin lifted. "Fine. If that's what you—"

A hand came down on the cup.

Ronan's hand.

"Enough." His voice was flat and cold. "Stop this, Sienna."

"I'm talking to Brielle."

"And I'm talking to you." He didn't move his hand. "The first bet was sealed on the moonstone. Every wolf here felt it. You don't get a do-over because you're upset."

"Upset," I repeated.

"Yes. Upset. Embarrassed. Whatever you want to call it." His grip on the cup tightened. "This isn't how a future Luna behaves."

Before I could answer, Brielle made a small, wet sound.

She pressed her hand over her mouth and doubled forward. "Ugh—sorry, I think the wine—"

Ronan released me instantly. He didn't even look at me as he stepped around the table. His arm wrapped around Brielle's waist like it had done it a thousand times.

"Easy. Easy, Bri. I've got you." He snapped his fingers at a passing server. "Warm water. Now. Not cold—warm."

The server ran.

I stood there with my empty hand still hovering over the cup.

Last month, a rogue pack had hit the moonstone mine while I was doing inventory. I'd taken claws across my ribs. Twelve stitches. Ronan had sat beside my bed in the infirmary for exactly nine minutes.

Then his phone rang.

"Bri's car broke down on the ridge road," he'd said, already pulling on his coat. "You're fine here, right? The healers are right outside."

I'd said yes. I always said yes.

I swallowed the taste of that memory and picked the dice cup back up.

"Then I'll bet with you, Ronan."

The room went still again. Even the server froze with the water glass halfway across the floor.

"High or low?" I asked softly.

Ronan's face darkened. He kept one hand on Brielle's back, but his eyes locked onto me.

"Are you serious right now?"

"Very."

"You can't take a loss like an adult, so you're dragging me into it?" He let out a sharp laugh. "Sienna, when did you become a woman with no sense of fair play?"

Jace stepped forward. "Ronan, come on, she's just trying to—"

Ronan turned his head. Just once. Just a look.

Jace shut his mouth and stepped back.

I didn't argue. There was nothing left to argue about.

I turned the silver cup over and lifted it off the felt.

There was nothing underneath.

No dice. Not one.

Theo leaned in, squinting. A few guests craned their necks. Brielle's hand slowly fell away from her mouth.

"It's empty," Jace murmured. "There's no dice. She—she couldn't have won. No matter what he guessed."

"That's right." I set the cup down with a small clink. "I was never going to win."

Ronan stared at the empty felt. A muscle jumped in his cheek.

"Then what the hell was this?"

"A question." I met his eyes. "I wanted to know if you'd give me one fair chance. Just one."

He reached for my wrist. "Sienna—"

I stepped back. His fingers closed on air.

I pointed at the cup.

"You lost our wedding on purpose for her. You peeked at her hands and filled your pocket with candy so she'd win." My voice didn't shake. That surprised me more than anyone. "But you wouldn't even play a game with me that you couldn't lose."

Ronan's face went red, then white.

"You're unbelievable." He jabbed a finger toward me. "Seven years. Seven years, and you're standing here doubting me in front of the whole pack?"

"I'm not doubting you. I'm finally seeing you."

"I'm your fated mate!" His voice cracked through the ballroom. "I could wait ten years for you and never change my mind. Ten! And you can't even wait three?"

I didn't answer.

I just looked at him. At his arm, still curled around Brielle's waist. At Brielle, leaning into him, her lashes lowered, her lips curving just slightly.

And I understood.

Ronan wasn't afraid of losing a bet.

He was afraid of Brielle losing the one she'd stolen.

He sighed hard through his nose, like I'd exhausted him. "We'll talk when you've calmed down."

The party limped on after that. Nobody really danced. At three in the morning, Ronan guided Brielle toward the doors, his jacket around her shoulders.

He paused beside me just long enough to say, "Bri's not well. I'm driving her home. You can figure out a ride, right?"

He didn't wait for my answer.

The doors swung shut behind them.

Outside, the night air bit at my bare arms. I stood on the stone steps, staring at the empty drive.

Headlights clicked on.

A black car rolled up, and Callum stepped out. He walked around and opened the passenger door. Then he shrugged out of his suit jacket and settled it over my shoulders. It was still warm.

He didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't ask if I'd cried.

"You don't need to decide tonight," he said.

I slid into the seat. He crouched beside the open door, and when he opened his palm, something glinted in the dashboard light.

An old silver coin. Worn smooth at the edges.

My throat closed.

Seven years ago, at the river festival, I'd flipped that coin and lost a silly bet to him. I'd laughed and pressed it into his hand. "A bet's a bet," I'd said. "I always pay up."

He'd kept it. All this time.

I traced the coin's rim with one fingertip.

"If I say yes," I whispered, "would you gamble with our wedding too?"

Callum didn't smile. He didn't joke. He looked at me like the question deserved every ounce of his attention.

"I'd bet all of Ironvale and lose it without blinking," he said. "But I would never put you on the table."

Past the trees, the sky started to pale. The first thin strip of gold slid through the windshield and landed across my face.

I closed my fingers over his, coin and all.

"Then three days from now," I said quietly, "we hold our wedding."

Callum went very still.

And somewhere back inside the estate, the moonstone on the gaming table flickered blue one more time—as if something, somewhere, had just been set in motion.

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