My Alpha Credited My Work to His Dead Mate

The bleach fumes burned my throat, a familiar sting I’d grown used to over the last five years. My knees ached against the cold tile of the scullery floor, the harsh bristles of the scrub brush turning my knuckles raw and red. But today, the pain felt distant. Today was the day everything changed.

Above the industrial sinks, the mounted television flickered, broadcasting the live feed from the pack grounds just outside. The roar of the Silver Creek Pack vibrated through the speakers, a wall of sound cheering for one man.

Cullen.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. He looked magnificent on the podium, his sandy hair catching the sunlight, his posture radiating the new strength of an Alpha. I paused my scrubbing, wiping a soapy hand on my stained apron. We had talked about this moment in hushed whispers late at night, tangled in sheets he never let me stay in past dawn. He promised that once he was Alpha, once his power was secure, he wouldn’t need to hide me anymore. He would reveal my designs. He would reveal *us*.

"Brothers and sisters of Silver Creek," Cullen’s voice boomed, smooth as velvet and sharp as a blade. "Today, we do not just celebrate a new leadership. We celebrate a new era of safety."

He gestured to a large easel covered in a velvet cloth. My breath hitched. This was it. The 'Moonlight Fortress.' I had spent three years agonizing over those blueprints, calculating load-bearing walls by candlelight, designing hidden escape tunnels for the pups and elders. I had poured my soul into that graphite.

Cullen yanked the cloth down.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd on the screen. There they were. My drawings. My life’s work.

"This masterpiece," Cullen said, his voice dropping to a theatrical, trembling whisper, "was not born of my mind alone. It was guided by a spirit far purer than mine."

Tears pricked my eyes. *He’s going to say it. He’s going to say my name.*

He looked directly into the camera, his eyes shimmering with fake tears. "I dedicate this fortress to my late Fated Mate, the beautiful Sofia Barnes of the Blood Moon Pack. Her spirit guided my hand. She whispers the designs to me in my dreams."

The scrub brush clattered from my hand, splashing gray water onto my face.

*Sofia Barnes?*

The dead daughter of the Alpha we were trying to ally with? The girl he had never even met?

"No," I whispered, the word scraping out of my throat. "No, that’s… that’s mine."

The crowd erupted into sympathetic applause. I saw Alpha Barnes on the screen, weeping, embracing Cullen like a son. Cullen had stolen my work. He had stolen my voice. And he had buried me under the ghost of a dead girl.

I didn't think. I didn't care about the dirt on my uniform or the smell of bleach clinging to my skin. I scrambled up, my wet shoes squeaking on the linoleum as I sprinted toward the Alpha’s office. He would be coming there for the private toast. He had to explain this.

I burst into the office just as the heavy oak door clicked shut behind him. Cullen was there, pouring a glass of amber liquid, a smug smile playing on his lips. He didn’t look surprised to see me. He looked bored.

"You’re dripping on the Persian rug, Vivian," he said, taking a sip.

"Sofia?" I choked out, my hands trembling at my sides. "You told them Sofia drew those? I spent nights bleeding over those drafts, Cullen! You said… you said when you became Alpha, we would—"

"We would what?" He set the glass down with a sharp *clink*. He turned to me, and the warmth I thought I knew was gone, replaced by a cold, predatory sneer. "You thought I would introduce a wolfless Omega as the architect of our defense? You thought I would mate with a servant?"

"I’m your mate!" I screamed, the betrayal slicing deeper than any knife. "You know I am! We felt the bond!"

"A bond can be ignored," he said dismissively, walking around the desk. "But an alliance with the Blood Moon Pack? That requires sacrifice. And Sofia’s memory is worth a hell of a lot more than your reality."

"I’ll tell them," I gasped, backing away as he advanced. "I have the original sketches. I have the dates. I’ll tell everyone!"

Cullen stopped. His eyes flashed a dangerous, glowing gold. The air in the room grew heavy, suffocating, pressing down on my lungs like a physical weight.

**"Kneel."**

The Alpha Command hit me like a sledgehammer. My legs collapsed instantly, forcing me to the floor. I tried to speak, to fight, but my body betrayed me, locked in absolute submission to his voice. I was paralyzed, tears streaming down my face, staring up at the man I had loved for five years.

He crouched down, tilting my chin up with a cruel finger. "Look at you. Pathetic. No wolf. No power. Just a little mouse scratching at paper."

He leaned in close, his breath smelling of expensive champagne. "I used your Omega wages, Vivian. Every cent you earned scrubbing toilets. I set up a scholarship in Sofia’s name. The Barnes family was so touched, they’ve practically adopted me already."

A sob ripped through my chest, but I couldn't move. I couldn't look away.

"We need to tie up this loose end," he murmured. He stood up, towering over me, and the air around him crackled with magic. The connection between us—that thin, fragile golden thread I had cherished—suddenly felt like a noose.

"I, Alpha Cullen Rogers of the Silver Creek Pack," he intoned, his voice echoing with ancient power.

*No. Please, Cullen, don’t.*

"...reject you, Vivian Hart, as my mate."

***SNAP.***

The pain was blinding. It felt like someone had reached into my chest and ripped my heart in half. I screamed, a raw, guttural sound that tore my throat, collapsing sideways onto the rug. I curled into a ball, gasping for air, clutching my chest as the bond withered and died, leaving a cold, gaping hole where his warmth used to be.

Cullen didn’t even flinch. He stepped over my convulsing body and opened the door.

"Get back to the scullery," he said coldly, not looking back. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll have you exiled as a Rogue. I’ll tell the Council you’re insane. A wolfless Omega claiming to be an architect? They’ll laugh as they tear you apart."

He slammed the door, leaving me alone in the dark, shivering on the floor, with nothing but the ghost of my love and the ashes of my dreams.