Forsaken by the Alpha King

The heavy oak doors of the Pack Hall creaked as they swung open, releasing a chill gust of autumn wind. Aveline stood silently near the far end of the hall, her fingers brushing over the polished wood of an old armchair that once belonged to her father. She was waiting with the Elders, Beta Jack, and her best friend Hazel, all of whom wore expressions of mounting unease. The Pack Hall, usually brimming with the warmth of pack camaraderie, felt cold and hollow.

“It’s not like him to be late,” muttered Elder Oswin, his voice gravelly with age. He glanced at Aveline with an attempt at a reassuring smile, but even he seemed uncertain. Aveline didn’t respond; she was focused on the emptiness beyond the open door, her chest tightening with every passing second.

Hazel, standing beside her, leaned in and whispered, “Are you sure you don’t know what this is about?” Her concern seeped through her words like a leak from a cracked vase.

Aveline swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to shake her head, but something kept her still. There was a tightness in the air, something heavy and foreboding. She couldn’t tell Hazel that she, Luna, had been kept in the dark. The silence from Killian these past days had been unlike anything she had ever felt in their three years of marriage.

Footsteps echoed from the hallway. They all turned toward the entrance just as Killian appeared. But he wasn’t alone.

A tall, slender woman trailed at his side, her arm looped through his, with a proud smile on her lips that seemed almost unnatural. Morgana. Even her name carried weight—a whisper from a bitter past. She was dressed in deep crimson robes that clung to her frame, standing out sharply against the dark stone of the hall. Aveline’s heart sank, the color like a scar on the once familiar world she knew.

Killian’s eyes were cold as he scanned the room, stopping momentarily on Aveline before moving on, as if dismissing her existence. Aveline’s breath caught, and the world seemed to shift beneath her feet. It was a look she had never seen in him before—detached and calculated.

“Killian?” Aveline’s voice came out hoarse, almost a whisper.

Ignoring her, Killian cleared his throat and faced the Elders. His posture was rigid, authoritative. He was the Alpha, and he wore the title like armor. But beneath the confident exterior, Aveline saw something unfamiliar—hesitation.

“This is Morgana Vesper,” Killian declared, his voice echoing in the hall. “Your new Luna.”

The words landed like stones thrown into a silent lake. Aveline felt each one sink into her chest, each one ripping the breath from her lungs. The Elders exchanged confused, concerned glances, but no one spoke. Hazel’s hand tightened around Aveline’s wrist, grounding her, but it wasn’t enough to steady the storm now raging inside her.

“What do you mean… new Luna?” Beta Jack’s voice broke the silence, his brows knitted in a frown. Jack had always been Killian’s closest confidant, and the doubt in his eyes spoke volumes.

Killian turned to face Jack directly. “Aveline and I are no longer…” He hesitated for a moment, but continued, “Aveline and I are no longer bonded. Morgana is my true mate.”

Aveline’s blood turned to ice. True mate? The term held sacred weight in their world. A bond that superseded any other—a connection granted by fate itself. But how could that be? She had been Killian’s wife, his Luna, for three years, and they had faced so many trials together.

Morgana, with her serene smile and unwavering gaze, tilted her head slightly. “It seems fate has a way of righting wrongs,” she murmured, the words as soft and sharp as a whispering blade.

Aveline’s pulse quickened. She knew who Morgana was. An omega from the Red Moon Pack, once nothing more than a maid—a whisper of a shadow from Killian’s past. Rumors had circulated that she had been more than that, whispers of her as a mistress. Yet here she stood, as the supposed true mate.

“Killian, you’re mistaken,” Aveline forced out, her voice trembling with the effort to stay calm. “We’ve been through—”

“This isn’t up for discussion, Aveline,” Killian interrupted, his tone clipped. His eyes flickered with something—regret, anger, fear? She couldn’t tell. “Morgana was my first mate, and now that she’s returned—”

Aveline didn’t hear the rest. His words seemed to blur, the world becoming a distant, distorted hum. Her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind, only a single question clawing its way to the forefront—Why?

Suddenly, Morgana’s gaze met hers, and in those dark, gleaming eyes, Aveline saw a quiet triumph. It was the look of a victor, a conqueror.

“I—I don’t understand…” Aveline’s voice faltered, her words barely more than a breath.

“It’s simple,” Morgana replied softly, almost gently, as if explaining a simple fact to a child. “You were given a second chance, Aveline. But you were never meant to be his first.”

The finality of those words shattered the last remnants of Aveline’s composure. She felt her hands begin to tremble, her vision narrowing until all she could see was Morgana’s smug expression.

“Killian…” Aveline managed one last attempt to find some shred of the man she knew.

But Killian simply turned away. “It’s done,” he said, the words as empty as the echo that followed them.

The Elders remained silent, unwilling to challenge their Alpha in front of his chosen Luna. Hazel opened her mouth, but Aveline shook her head slightly, signaling for her friend to stay silent. It was over.

Killian took Morgana’s hand, and together they left the hall, their footsteps echoing down the long corridor until the heavy doors shut with a dull, resounding thud.

Aveline was left standing in the quiet, her heart echoing with the question she could no longer ask aloud—Why?

The silence in the Pack Hall hung heavy, like a shroud that choked the breath out of the room. No one moved. No one spoke. Even the Elders, who had seen decades of leadership turmoil, seemed stunned into an unusual paralysis.

Aveline’s legs felt weak beneath her, and for a moment she thought she might crumble right there on the stone floor. Her entire world had collapsed in the span of a few heartbeats, and the remnants of her life now lay in scattered pieces around her.

“Breathe,” Hazel whispered, her voice trembling. She wrapped an arm around Aveline’s shoulders, trying to pull her back to reality. “Just… breathe.”

But Aveline felt like she was suffocating, drowning in a sea of betrayal and disbelief. How could Killian have done this? And how could he have replaced her so easily? Questions swirled, unanswered, as she stood there in shock.

The Elders finally began to murmur amongst themselves, their voices low and filled with uncertainty. Aveline barely registered their words. Her ears were ringing, and her heartbeat pounded in her head like a relentless drum.

“Luna…” Elder Oswin’s voice cut through the haze. The title sounded like a mockery now, a cruel reminder of what she’d lost. “Aveline, what do you want us to do?”

She blinked, trying to focus on the Elder’s weathered face. His eyes were kind but uncertain, searching her for any sign of strength. But Aveline didn’t have the answers, not now. Not when everything she believed in had been so thoroughly destroyed.

Beta Jack stepped forward, his face a mask of restrained anger. “This is wrong,” he said, his voice firm and filled with the authority of someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge even an Alpha. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”

Jack’s words seemed to snap Aveline out of her daze, pulling her back from the edge of despair. She met his gaze, trying to find her own strength in his certainty.

“We can’t change what he’s decided,” she said softly, though each word felt like a knife in her chest. “If he’s… chosen Morgana, there’s nothing left to fight for here.”

Hazel squeezed her shoulder. “But you can’t just accept this, Aveline. You’ve been his Luna for years. You’ve led this pack—”

Aveline shook her head, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. “What would you have me do, Hazel? Beg him to take me back? I won’t give him that satisfaction.”

Jack’s fists clenched at his sides. “You don’t have to beg,” he said, his voice hard with resolve. “You have allies. We can challenge his decision. The pack won’t all stand behind this… madness.”

Aveline almost wanted to believe him, but the reality of the situation loomed too large. She was fighting a losing battle, and Killian had made his choice. If she stayed and fought, it would only lead to more suffering—for her, for the pack, and for the children she was carrying.

The thought of her unborn children cut through the chaos in her mind like a bolt of clarity. She had to protect them, no matter what. She couldn’t let them become pawns in this twisted game.

“No,” she said, her voice firmer this time. “I won’t put the pack through that. I won’t put myself through that.”

Jack opened his mouth to argue, but she silenced him with a look. “This is over, Jack,” she said, a finality in her tone that she didn’t entirely feel, but had to project. “Please… don’t make this harder.”

He hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “If that’s what you want,” he said quietly. “But know this, Aveline—we’re not all behind him. Some of us still believe in you.”

The weight of those words settled on her, both a comfort and a burden. Aveline offered him a weak smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

The Elders murmured their reluctant agreement, and one by one, they filed out of the hall, their steps slow and uncertain. Beta Jack lingered a moment longer, giving Aveline a searching look before he, too, turned and left.

Only Hazel remained, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “You can’t leave, Aveline,” she pleaded. “You belong here.”

“Not anymore,” Aveline replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “He made sure of that.”

The finality of her words seemed to settle over Hazel like a weight, and she swallowed hard, nodding in acceptance. “Where will you go?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“Somewhere far,” Aveline replied. “Somewhere where he can’t find me. Where I can protect them.”

“Them?” Hazel’s eyes widened in realization, and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Aveline, you—”

“I can’t stay, Hazel,” Aveline cut in, her voice breaking for the first time. “Not now.”

Hazel pulled her into a tight embrace, her own tears spilling over. “Promise me you’ll be safe,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I will,” Aveline lied, knowing she could make no such promise.

When Hazel finally let her go, Aveline took a deep breath, steeling herself for what came next. She needed to leave before her courage faltered. Before the pain consumed her.

Without another word, Aveline turned and walked out of the Pack Hall, the weight of her loss pressing down on her like a heavy shroud. As she stepped into the cool night air, the moon overhead seemed to mock her, its silver light illuminating the path ahead—a path she would have to walk alone.

But she wouldn’t let herself break. Not yet. Not while she still had something left to fight for.

The heavy oak doors of the Pack Hall closed behind her with a resounding thud, sealing away the remnants of her old life.

And as Aveline walked into the darkness, the chill wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faintest echoes of betrayal and the promise of an uncertain future.