After My Alpha Chose Her, I Fled

The morning of my father's memorial dawned gray and somber, as if the sky itself mourned his passing. I stood before the mirror in the Luna quarters, adjusting the black dress that hung loosely on my frame. Three weeks had passed since I'd discovered Blake's betrayal, since I'd learned about Rachel. Three weeks of silence and avoidance, of blocked mind-links and cold shoulders.

Aurora whimpered within me. *He will be there today, won't he? For Father?*

I touched the silver crescent moon pendant my father had given me on my sixteenth birthday. "He has to be," I whispered, more to convince myself than my wolf. "Even Blake wouldn't miss the memorial for the man who made him Alpha."

Emma's soft cries drew me to her crib. My beautiful daughter, so innocent to the fracturing world around her. I lifted her gently, inhaling her sweet scent that momentarily soothed the constant ache in my chest.

"We'll make Grandpa proud today, little one," I murmured against her downy head.

The memorial was set for noon in the sacred clearing where generations of Alphas had been honored. Pack members were already gathering when Garrett Thorne, one of my father's most loyal Delta warriors, appeared at my door.

"Luna Isabella," he said, his eyes downcast. "I've come to escort you and the pup."

My heart stuttered. "Where is Blake?"

Garrett's jaw tightened. "Alpha Blake sends his regrets. He had a... prior commitment."

The words hit like physical blows. "What commitment could possibly take precedence over honoring the former Alpha? His mentor? My father?"

Garrett's silence told me everything.

We arrived at the clearing to whispers and pitying glances. I held my head high, clutching Emma to my chest like a shield. The ceremony began, beautiful tributes to my father flowing from those who had loved and respected him. When it came time for the Alpha's tribute—traditionally the most important—there was only uncomfortable silence.

It was Garrett who finally stepped forward, delivering words that should have come from Blake. I barely heard them over the roaring in my ears.

As the ceremony concluded, I overheard two pack members speaking in hushed tones.

"Alpha Blake took Rachel and her pup to the Silver Moon Festival in the Northern Pack," one whispered. "Can you believe it? On today of all days?"

"I heard Rachel wanted to go, and he couldn't say no," the other replied. "The Luna looks devastated."

Aurora snarled within me, her rage matching my own. *He abandons us on this sacred day for her?*

I returned to our quarters in a daze, Emma sleeping against my shoulder. The diary called to me from the shelf. I opened it with trembling fingers to page 206—the day my father had officially named Blake as his successor, the day Blake had promised to honor his legacy forever.

"You lied," I whispered, striking a match. The flame caught the edge of the page, turning promises to ash.

That evening, I decided to place some of my father's mementos in our quarters. I reached for the shelf where Blake and I kept our mating ceremony photos—the silver-framed images of our happiest day.

They were gone.

Every photo, every memento of our bond had vanished. In their place were childish drawings—crayon scribbles of stick figures labeled "Daddy," "Rachel," and "Me."

My legs gave out, and I sank to the floor. Rachel's pup had claimed not just Blake, but our home, our memories.

With shaking hands, I searched for the ceremonial blanket we'd been wrapped in during our marking—a sacred item for any mated pair. After frantic minutes, I found it stuffed in a storage box, crumpled and forgotten.

Aurora howled in anguish. *He erases us. He erases our bond.*

That night, I pulled the diary from its shelf again. Page 579 held the account of our marking ceremony, Blake's handwriting describing how he'd felt our souls merge as his teeth had broken my skin, completing our bond.

"Lies," I whispered, watching the page curl and blacken in the flame.

As the paper turned to ash, I caught my reflection in the mirror. The faint golden glow that had always surrounded me—the Luna's aura—flickered like a dying light.

Two days later, the pack council gathered for a meeting to honor my father's legacy. I took my place beside Blake's empty chair, Emma sleeping peacefully in my arms. When Blake finally arrived, Rachel and her pup trailed behind him like shadows.

The ancient ceremonial chalice—a pack treasure from our founding—sat at the center of the table. As Elder Thorne spoke of my father's contributions, Rachel's pup reached for the chalice.

"No, don't—" I began, but too late.

The chalice crashed to the floor, the silver vessel that had survived centuries shattering into pieces.

Silence fell over the room. I rose, handing Emma to a nearby pack member, and approached the child with firm but gentle intent.

"We don't touch sacred items," I said softly, kneeling to the pup's level.

Blake was suddenly between us, his eyes cold. "Don't speak to him like that," he snapped, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You're being controlling. Rachel is trying to help him adjust to pack life, and you're making it impossible."

The council chamber fell silent, shock rippling through the room at the Alpha's public rebuke of his Luna. I felt my aura flicker again, dimming further as the bond between us frayed another strand.

That night, as Emma slept, I opened the diary to page 994. Only five pages remained of our once-perfect love story.

As the page burned, I wondered how much more of me would burn with it.