The Wife He Gave Away

The warehouse gates loomed ahead as I pulled into the pack's supply district, but my mind was still stuck at the school gate. Luna's words echoed with every step I took toward the patrol route: Go take care of your important work. The way she'd said it, so sweetly, like she was doing me a favor. My wolf paced restlessly under my skin, claws itching to lash out at something, anything.

 I grabbed my clipboard and started the morning circuit, checking inventory crates and security perimeters. The air smelled of pine resin and fresh lumber, normal pack territory scents that usually grounded me. Today they didn't.

A few rows down, I spotted a young mother strolling hand-in-hand with her pup, both laughing as he pointed at a butterfly. The boy couldn't have been more than five, chubby cheeks flushed with joy. Something in my chest twisted hard.

 Of course I knew how important time with my son was. When he was tiny, I'd quit my job cold. Bills piled up like snowdrifts, meals got smaller, but our little apartment rang with his giggles every single day. I'd rock him through teething nights, tell him silly stories until he fell asleep on my chest. Money was tight enough to hurt, yet those months felt richer than anything...

Then reality bit. Rent notices, healer fees for his fevers, the pack's rising tithes. When he started school, I made the call, swallowed my guilt and asked for my old position back. They took me, thank the Moon. I didn't regret it. Not really. I still woke before dawn to fry eggs exactly how he liked them. I still dragged myself home exhausted and helped with spelling lists until my eyes crossed. I was present. I was there...

 So why did Luna's casual dismissal burn like silver?

I shook my head and kept walking, boots crunching on gravel. She was flawless on the surface, elegant cream blouses, not a hair out of place, that soft polished smile that never quite reached her eyes. Always saying the right things. Too perfect. Like a noblewoman handing out charity instead of real advice. She'd never scraped by on beta wages. Never chosen between new shoes for her pup or groceries for the week. She spoke of "the children's future" like it was a shiny trophy she could gift everyone, but what did she know about the sweat and sacrifice it actually took?

I bet she saw this as another political win. Polish her image as the caring new Luna. After all, Alpha Alaric's marriages had always been alliances. His first wife, Valeria's older sister, had been frail, dying in childbirth. Now the younger sister swept in a month ago, determined to outshine the ghost. She'd inserted herself into every committee, every decision. The Alpha really did have questionable taste in wives.

A sudden shift in the air yanked me from my thoughts. Power rippled across the yard like an invisible wave... heavy, commanding, impossible to ignore. Heads turned. Shoulders straightened. Conversations died.

 Alpha Alaric had arrived for inspection.

He strode through the gates like he owned the very ground, which, technically, he did. Tall, sharp-featured, radiating raw dominance that made even seasoned betas lower their gazes. Cold. Ruthless. The kind of leader you feared and respected in equal measure. I'd seen him from afar plenty of times but rarely this close. Today he wasn't alone.

 A small boy trailed half a step behind him... pale, thin, maybe eight or nine. Dark hair fell into hollow eyes. I'd heard the rumors: this was the son from the first Luna. Frail since birth, rarely seen in public, whispered to be unfavored. He moved like a shadow, clutching the edge of his father's coat as if it might vanish.

Alaric's sharp gaze swept the area, missing nothing. When it landed on me for a split second, I felt the weight of it like a physical push. I nodded respectfully and kept patrolling, but my stomach stayed knotted.

 The rest of the day blurred. By evening I was home, cooking dinner on autopilot while my son chattered about his day, mostly about Luna showing him the new library. Dominic came in late, kissed my cheek again, and praised the food without really looking at me. The necklace still glinted at our son's throat.

Sleep came hard that night....

The next morning, patrol took me past the quieter edges of the administrative buildings. I rounded a corner and froze.

 There, on a hidden stone staircase tucked behind storage sheds, sat the Alpha's son. Alone. Knees drawn to his chest, arms wrapped tight, eyes blank and hollow like he'd checked out of the world. No guards. No tutors. Just a small, lonely boy in oversized silence.

My maternal instincts surged before I could think. I approached slowly, keeping my voice gentle. "Hey there... mind if I sit for a minute?"

 He didn't look up, but he didn't bolt either. I lowered myself to the step below his, leaving space.

"I'm Seraphina. I work here sometimes. You look like you could use a friend."

 Silence stretched. Then, barely audible: "I don't have friends."

 My heart cracked. "That's no fun. What's your name?"

 "Elias."

"Nice to meet you, Elias." I let a soft wave of my rare calming ability drift toward him... nothing forceful, just a gentle warmth that eased tense shoulders and quieted racing hearts in pups. It had always come naturally to me, like a lullaby only wolves could feel. His posture loosened a fraction.

"Why aren't you at school today?" I asked lightly.

 He hugged his knees tighter. "I don't go to school. Father hires tutors. They teach me at home."

I blinked. Private tutors sounded luxurious, but the loneliness radiating off him told a different story. No playground chaos. No friends racing through hallways. Just endless lessons in an empty room.

 "That must get pretty quiet," I said. "Want to play a quick game? I know one with rocks and sticks... my son loves it."

 He hesitated, then gave the tiniest nod.

We spent the next twenty minutes building a tiny fortress out of pebbles and twigs. I told him ridiculous stories about brave beta wolves outsmarting arrogant alphas, keeping my tone light. His responses started as single words, then grew into shy sentences. A small smile even ghosted across his face when my "wolf" character tripped over his own tail.

 For a moment, the heavy weight in my chest lifted. He was just a pup who needed someone to see him.

Then the air changed again, charged, electric, dangerous.

 Heavy footsteps approached. Power pressed down like a storm front.

 I looked up.

Alpha Alaric stood at the base of the stairs, dark eyes locked on us. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his jaw said everything. Elias shrank instantly, the brief spark of life vanishing.

"Elias," Alaric said, voice low and commanding. "What are you doing here?"

 The boy scrambled to his feet. "I... I was just..."

My wolf bristled at the fear in his tone, but I kept my face calm and rose slowly. "Alpha. I found him sitting alone. We were only talking. He seemed... lonely."

 Alaric's gaze snapped to me, sharp enough to cut. For one heartbeat, something flickered behind the ice... surprise? irritation?... before the mask slammed back down.

"You overstep, beta," he said coldly, but there was an undercurrent I couldn't quite name. "He has tutors waiting."

 Elias's small shoulders slumped. He moved toward his father without another word.

As they turned to leave, Alaric glanced back once. Our eyes met again, longer this time. My calming ability still hummed faintly in the air between us, and for the briefest moment, the ruthless Alpha looked almost... human.