My Alpha Betrayed Me for the Lycan King’s Daughter

The pack house felt different in the days after the border incident. Conversations stopped when I walked into rooms. Warriors who used to meet my eyes now studied their boots. Even the Omegas moved differently around me—quicker, quieter, like they were afraid I might snap again.

Maybe I would.

Beta Marcus cornered me in the main hallway three days later. I was heading to the kitchens when he stepped out of his office, that diplomatic expression already locked in place.

"Luna, we need to discuss what happened at the river."

"No, we don't."

"The pack is unsettled. There are questions about—"

"About what? About whether their Luna has lost her mind?" I stopped walking and faced him. "Tell them the truth, Marcus. Tell them their Alpha brought his pregnant mistress to live in our territory while his mate waited at home like a fool."

Marcus's jaw tightened. "That's not how Asher sees it."

"How does Asher see it?"

"He says the connection with Nadia is strategic. That an alliance with the Lycan territories requires—"

"Stop." The word came out sharp enough to make him flinch. "Just stop talking, Marcus. I don't want to hear his justifications."

I walked away before he could respond.

That afternoon, I found myself on the balcony outside the Luna's quarters. It overlooked the main courtyard, the training grounds, the gardens where I used to walk with Asher in the evenings. I'd been avoiding this view for weeks, but something pulled me there now. Some masochistic need to see what my territory looked like without me in it.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the stone paths. A few warriors were finishing their evening patrol routes. Normal pack life, continuing without pause.

Then I saw them.

Asher emerged from the main building with Nadia at his side. She was wearing a soft blue dress that showed the barely-there curve of her pregnancy. Her hand rested on her stomach in that protective way pregnant women do, and Asher's hand covered hers.

I gripped the balcony railing.

They walked slowly through the garden, talking quietly. Intimate. Comfortable. Like they belonged together. Like this was their territory, their future, their life.

Asher said something that made her laugh. The sound carried up to me on the evening air—light, musical, genuinely happy. When was the last time I had laughed like that? When was the last time Asher had made me laugh at all?

They stopped near the fountain. Asher turned to face her, his hands moving to frame her face with a tenderness that made my chest ache. He said something I couldn't hear, and she smiled up at him with an expression of complete trust.

Then the light hit her just right, and I saw it.

Hanging around her neck, catching the last rays of sunlight, was my locket.

The custom-engraved pup locket Asher had made for me after I lost our child. The one with the tiny crescent moon on the front and our pup's name etched inside. The one I had worn every single day until—

Until when? When had I stopped wearing it?

I reached for my throat automatically. Nothing. My neck was bare.

Nadia's fingers found the locket as I watched, touching it the same way I always had. The same protective, maternal gesture. But it wasn't hers. It was mine. It was meant for my child, my loss, my grief.

The realization hit me like ice water.

He hadn't just been sleeping with her. He hadn't just gotten her pregnant. He had been taking her to our shrine. Our sacred place. The place where we lit candles for our lost pup every year. The place where he had held me while I cried and promised me we would honor our child's memory together.

He had been bringing her there. Praying with her. Praying for a new pup. A replacement.

And he had given her my locket to wear while he did it.

I stumbled backward from the railing. My hands were shaking. My vision was blurring at the edges. The betrayal was so complete, so thorough, that I couldn't breathe around it.

All those years of lighting candles together. All those quiet moments of shared grief. All those promises that our lost child would never be forgotten.

Lies. All of it lies.

I turned away from the balcony and walked back into my empty rooms. I sat down on the bed Asher and I had shared for six years and stared at my hands.

Something was breaking inside me. Not my heart—that had already broken at the cabin, at the river, in a dozen small moments since. This was something deeper. Something that had been holding me together all this time.

My faith in him. My belief that underneath all the politics and ambition and betrayal, there was still some part of the boy who had bled for me. Who had built an empire to protect me.

That boy was gone. Maybe he had never existed at all.

I reached for my phone.