Breakfast with the Alpha

Elsa’s Pov

The dining hall was nothing like the kitchens I had scrubbed back in Caleb pack. Here, the ceiling arched high and glittered with chandeliers that threw sparks of gold across polished stone. Long tables stretched from end to end, groaning beneath platters of steaming food. The smell of roasted meat, honey bread, and herbs clung to the air, making my empty stomach tighten.

But it wasn’t the food that froze me in place at the threshold.

It was the silence.

As soon as I entered, every head turned. Dozens of eyes pinned me…elders, warriors, servants, even children—and the hall, once alive with chatter, went utterly still. Whispers followed a beat later, quick and sharp, hissing like snakes.

“That’s her…”

“The outsider…”

“She’s going to be the Luna?”

Their gazes burned hotter than fire. Some curious. Some mocking. Too many filled with open hostility.

Amy stirred inside me, her growl deep and steady. Do not lower your head. You are a wolf, not prey.

But my body didn’t listen. My hands trembled at my sides, and my throat was too tight to swallow.

At the head of the hall, Alpha Dylan sat in his seat like a king. Even in the morning light, he seemed impossibly dark, carved from power itself. When his eyes lifted and locked with mine, the whispers died as though choked by invisible hands.

“Elsa,” he said, his voice a command that carried through the room. “Come to me.”

My legs felt weak, but I forced them to move, step by step, past the rows of staring wolves. Their eyes cut into me measuring, doubting, resenting. I wanted to shrink, to vanish, but Dylan’s gaze anchored me, pulling me forward.

When I reached the head table, he rose to his feet. He didn’t simply point to a chair. He pulled it out himself, waiting.

Gasps rippled down the tables.

“She’s being seated by him… ”

“She’s really the Luna?” someone whispered.

“Marked….didn’t you see it last night?” another replied, voice hushed.

“She’s not even from here. She looks like a servant…”

“No Alpha has ever…”

“She doesn’t deserve to be here”

The words slithered through the air, each one slicing into me.

But Dylan ignored them all. He placed his hand on the chair, looking at me. “Sit beside me.”

I lowered into the seat slowly, still stunned. No one had ever given me honor. No one had claimed me so boldly.

Dylan turned his gaze on the hall, his presence a stormcloud ready to strike. “This is Elsa. My mate. My Luna.” His voice thundered through the room, silencing even the boldest murmurs. “From this day forward, she is to be treated as such. Any insult against her is an insult against me.”

The silence that followed was heavy and absolute.

But silence wasn’t acceptance. I still felt their stares, their bitterness pressing against my skin.

The table before me was filled with food platters of fruit, roasted meats, pastries, steaming porridge, spiced tea. My hands twitched, but I didn’t dare reach for anything. This wasn’t for me. I didn’t belong here.

“Eat,” Dylan ordered softly, only for me to hear.

I swallowed hard and tore off a small piece of bread. My fingers shook so badly it nearly slipped.

Before I could pour myself tea, Dylan reached for the pot and filled my cup himself.

Amy purred in satisfaction. He is showing them. Claiming us before them all.

Another wave of whispers surged down the tables.

“Did you see that?”

“The Alpha is….serving her?”

“Unthinkable…”

I wanted the floor to open beneath me.

Amy purred inside me, steady and sure. He is showing them you are not beneath him. That you are his equal.

But to me, it felt like a spotlight I could not escape.

I forced myself to nibble at the bread. Each bite tasted like ash under the weight of their eyes.

Beside me, Dylan ate with calm control, but his hand brushed mine under the table, firm and grounding. My heart stumbled in my chest.

He was telling me without words: I am here. You are not alone.

The meal dragged on, heavy with tension. Some of the wolves avoided looking at me, while others stared openly, as if waiting for me to slip, to prove I was unworthy. Every laugh down the table felt sharp, every whisper aimed like a dagger at my back.

I stole a glance at Dylan. He ate with calm control, though his hand brushed mine under the table briefly, a grounding touch. My heart lurched, but I kept my gaze lowered.

Then, the doors creaked open. A messenger entered, bowing low before Dylan.

“Alpha,” the man said carefully, “Mistress Veronica requests your presence. She insists it is urgent.”

My stomach dropped. Mistress?

The name struck me like ice water.

The hall buzzed instantly with murmurs. I didn’t need their words to understand…this was the woman tied to Dylan before me. His lover.

My grip on the table tightened until my knuckles whitened.

Amy growled inside me. This one will not accept you. She is danger.

I dared a glance at Dylan. His jaw clenched, his eyes flashing like steel.

“Tell her,” he said coldly, “that I am occupied.” He placed his hand on mine deliberately, lifting it onto the table for all to see. “With my Luna.”

The messenger bowed again and rushed out, the whispers in the hall swelling like a storm.

“Did he just…”

“He denied her for that girl?”

“This will not end quietly…”

My chest tightened until it hurt to breathe. I had never wanted to vanish so badly. All their hate, all their judgment it pressed against me from every side.

But Dylan remained calm, unshaken, eating as though the world around us wasn’t splintering. His grip on my hand never wavered.

Still, unease gnawed at me. Veronica wouldn’t just accept this. She would strike back.

And the pack they weren’t convinced. Even if they stayed silent under Dylan’s command, I could feel the rejection in their eyes. To them, I was still an outsider, still a servant in a Luna’s seat.

When the last plates were cleared and the servants withdrew, Dylan leaned toward me. His voice was low, meant only for my ears. “Do not fear them. You are mine, Elsa. That makes you untouchable here.”

My breath caught. Untouchable. A word that had never belonged to me.

But as I looked across the hall at the cold, watching faces, I knew the truth: I might be untouchable by his decree, but in their hearts, the battle was only beginning.

And somewhere beyond these walls, Mistress Veronica was already sharpening her claws.