Not His Mate, But A Queen

Aria POV:

"He will never love me, Father," I said, my voice resonating with a finality that startled even myself. "I would rather have the loyalty of a powerful ally who respects me than the pity and obligation of a man who desires another. Kaelen's love is a performance, and I refuse to be his audience any longer."

My father, Alpha Alistair, stared at me, his sharp eyes searching my face. He saw no girlish tantrum, only cold, hard resolution. He sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of shattered plans. "If this is your wish, so be it. But Kaelen, Lyra, and the others… their betrayal runs deep."

"I know," I replied. "Which is why I have a request. As the Alpha of this pack, I need you to issue a command. Freeze all their access. Their corporate accounts, their pack resources, their training privileges. Everything. Let them feel what it's like to have the ground pulled from under them."

He nodded slowly, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "It will be done. And at your union ceremony with Damien, they will be officially exiled. They will learn the price of betraying a daughter of Silver Moon."

A sense of grim satisfaction settled over me. It wasn't joy, but it was a start.

Leaving the study, I felt lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted. As I descended the grand, spiral staircase, I saw Lyra waiting at the bottom. She was dressed in a simple white dress that highlighted her supposed innocence, her face a mask of sweet concern.

"Aria!" she called out, her voice syrupy. "I was just coming to find you. Let's go to the combat training together! It’s been so long since we sparred."

She moved to link her arm with mine. The cloying jasmine scent I’d smelled on Kaelen now washed over me, and I felt my stomach heave. I yanked my arm away as if I’d been burned.

"Don't touch me," I snarled.

The force of my rejection was small, but Lyra used it. With a theatrical gasp, she stumbled backward, her eyes wide with fake shock. Her heel caught on the edge of the stair, and she let out a piercing scream as she tumbled dramatically down the remaining few steps.

Before she even hit the polished marble floor, Kaelen was there. He moved like a blur, a dark shadow of raw power, catching her just before she landed. He cradled her in his arms, his eyes filled with a frantic tenderness that he had never, not once, shown me.

The other warriors, who had been lounging in the great hall, were on their feet in an instant.

"Aria! What is wrong with you?" Ronan, the Beta, roared, his face contorted in fury. "She’s just an Omega! She meant no harm!"

In Kaelen's arms, Lyra began to sob. "No, Ronan, don't blame her. It was my fault. I was clumsy. Aria didn't mean it." Her false defense only fanned the flames of their anger, painting me as the cruel, spoiled princess and her as the blameless victim.

Kaelen looked up at me, his eyes as cold as a winter storm. He didn't say a word out loud. Instead, his voice sliced through our Mind-Link, sharp and unforgiving.

You disappoint me.

He then turned, carrying Lyra as if she were made of precious glass, and walked away without giving me a chance to say a single word.

Later that afternoon, at the training grounds, I found Lyra already there, a small bandage wrapped around her ankle for show. She gave me a saccharine smile. "Oh, Aria, please don't let me get in the way. I know this is your special time with Kaelen-brother."

I ignored her, focusing on my warm-ups. But it was impossible.

Kaelen was glued to her side. He corrected her stance, his hands lingering on her waist. He demonstrated a defensive move, his body molding against hers. When she feigned a wince from her "injured" ankle, he immediately dropped to one knee in the dirt.

"Here," he said, his voice soft. "Put your foot on my shoulder. I'll re-wrap it."

She placed her delicate foot on his broad shoulder, and he tended to her with the focus of a surgeon.

The sight clawed at my insides. I remembered my first real combat session years ago. I’d taken a hard fall and dislocated my shoulder. Kaelen had stood by, his arms crossed, his expression bored, until my father’s voice had cracked through the Mind-Link like a whip.

Kaelen! Go to her! That is an Alpha’s Command!

An Alpha’s Command. The irresistible power in an Alpha’s voice that forces werewolves of a lower rank to obey. Kaelen had flinched as if struck. He had stalked over, his movements stiff with resentment, and helped me. The humiliation and reluctance in his eyes were seared into my memory.

He was forced to help me. But for Lyra, he knelt willingly.

And in that moment, I knew with chilling certainty that I hadn't just made the right decision. I had made the only one possible.