After My Alpha Chose His Mistress Over Me

The morning mist clung to the trees like a shroud, damp and heavy. It was the day of the monthly pack run, a tradition where the Alpha and Luna led the Silver Moon wolves through the forest to strengthen our connection to the land and each other. Usually, I would be stretching alongside the warriors, forcing a smile while Jonas ignored me to flirt with Lacey.

Today, I stood alone at the edge of the territory line, dressed not in running gear, but in sleek black jeans and a heavy coat. The air smelled of pine and impending rain. My suitcase sat next to me on the gravel road.

I could hear them coming before I saw them. The thundering of paws, the excited yips of the younger wolves. Then, they burst from the tree line—huge, muscular beasts in shades of grey, brown, and black. Leading them was a massive timber wolf with silver-tipped fur. Jonas.

He skidded to a halt when he saw me, shifting back into his human form with a fluid grace that used to make my heart flutter. Now, it just made my stomach turn. He was naked, as was custom after shifting, but he didn't seem to care. A few betas threw him a pair of shorts they carried for this purpose.

"Hannah?" Jonas panted, wiping sweat from his forehead. The rest of the pack shifted behind him, confusion rippling through the crowd. "Why aren't you shifted? We're wasting daylight."

"I'm not running, Jonas," I said. My voice was steady, eerily calm even to my own ears. "I'm leaving."

He let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "Leaving? Don't be dramatic. Look, if this is about the turtle—"

"His name was Barnaby."

"Fine. Barnaby. I'll buy you another one. A bigger one. Now strip and shift. The pack is waiting."

I looked at him, really looked at him, and felt… nothing. The anger from yesterday had crystallized into something cold and hard, like diamond. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small obsidian knife. It was a ceremonial blade my grandmother had given me, useless for combat but essential for ritual.

"What are you doing with that?" Jonas took a step forward, his brow furrowing.

I didn't answer. I pressed the blade to my palm, slicing a thin line across my skin. Blood welled up, dark and rich.

"Hannah!" Jonas barked, his Alpha tone vibrating in the air. "Stop this madness immediately!"

I ignored him. I raised my bleeding hand to the sky and began to chant. The words weren't in English, nor were they in the common werewolf tongue. They were Ancient Lycan, a language of kings and magic that hadn't been spoken in these woods for centuries.

*"Sanguis meus, vinculum solvo. Ego te repudio."*

The wind suddenly picked up, whipping my hair around my face. The ground beneath us trembled.

"What are you saying?" Jonas shouted, panic finally edging into his voice. He tried to move toward me, but an invisible wall of force slammed him backward.

*"Libertas. Finis."*

I clenched my fist.

**SNAP.**

The sound was deafening, like a gunshot inside a cathedral. It wasn't a physical noise, but a spiritual one. I felt the heavy, suffocating tether that bound me to the Silver Moon Pack tear away from my soul. The sudden absence of their emotions, their needs, their constant draining of my energy, left me lightheaded.

Across from me, the reaction was immediate and violent.

Wolves howled in pain, clutching their chests. But Jonas took it the hardest. He doubled over, gagging, and then collapsed to his knees, vomiting onto the grass. The severance of a Luna bond—especially one forcibly ripped away by Lycan magic—was a physical trauma.

"You..." Jonas gasped, wiping bile from his mouth. His face was grey. "What did you do? I feel... empty."

"I took back what was mine," I said, wiping my bloody palm on my jeans. "My energy. My protection. My loyalty. You are no longer my concern."

A sleek black SUV with tinted windows rolled silently up the gravel road behind me. The driver’s door opened, and a tall woman in a sharp suit stepped out. Aunt Elena. She didn't look at Jonas; she just opened the back door for me.

"Hannah!" Jonas staggered to his feet, swaying. "You can't just leave! You are the Luna! I command you to stay!"

He put everything he had into that command. The Alpha voice rolled over the clearing, a wave of dominance meant to force submission. The other pack members flattened themselves against the ground, whining.

I didn't flinch. I didn't even blink. The command washed over me like a gentle breeze against a stone wall.

I turned to face him one last time. "Your voice has no power over royalty, Jonas. It never did. I just let you believe it did."

"Royalty?" He blinked, his eyes unfocused. "You're crazy. You're just a girl from nowhere!"

"You chose a shell over your soul," I told him softly. "Remember that when the winter comes."

I slid into the backseat of the SUV. Elena slammed the door shut, sealing me in quiet luxury. As we drove away, I didn't look back at the man on his knees or the pack that had never respected me. I looked forward.

The drive was long, but my heart felt lighter with every mile. When we finally pulled up to the massive iron gates of the Royal Lycan Palace, my breath hitched. It had been years.

The guards at the gate didn't ask for ID. They saw the crest on the car and snapped to attention, saluting with a precision that the Silver Moon warriors could never hope to achieve. As we drove up the winding driveway, I saw the grand staircase lined with soldiers in full ceremonial armor.

Elena parked and turned to me. "Ready to go home, Princess?"

"More than ready," I whispered.

I stepped out of the car, and the soldiers slammed their spears against the ground in unison—a thunderous greeting for the returned daughter. At the top of the stairs stood a man with greying hair and eyes that matched mine—violet and fierce. The Alpha King.

My father.

I ran up the steps, shedding the last of my composure, and buried my face in his chest. He held me tight, smelling of ancient cedar and power.

"I'm sorry I stayed away so long," I mumbled into his coat.

"You're safe now," he rumbled, kissing the top of my head. "But why the tears, my fierce one?"

I pulled back, looking into his eyes. The violet in my own gaze flared to life, burning hot. "I want to invoke the Law of Retribution, Father."

The King's expression hardened. The warmth vanished, replaced by the terrifying visage of the ruler of all werewolves. "Against whom?"

"The Silver Moon Pack," I said, my voice ringing clear across the courtyard. "For the abuse of a royal daughter and the murder of my kin."

My father nodded slowly. He turned to the captain of the guard. "Prepare the legions. My daughter commands the army until her debt is paid."

I looked out over the assembled soldiers, thousands of them waiting for an order. Jonas thought I was weak. He thought I was just a human-loving girl with a pet turtle.

He was about to learn exactly what kind of monster he had awakened.