His Choice

Veyra POV

I can tell that my father isn't happy, it's clear in the hard lines of his face and the storm that's darkening his eyes.

“What have you done?” His voice is a low growl. Suddenly, his fingers dig painfully into my skin, his nails piercing through my dress until I can feel the bruising force beneath. I want to shake him off, but I hold back.

“He wanted our pack!” I argue. My voice trembles slightly despite my efforts to keep it steady.

“Then you give him it.” His words are sharp. They cut deeper into me than his nails ever could and my heart drops so painfully in my chest.

“What? Why would I give him the pack?” My voice wavers in disbelief. I didn't spend my entire life training, fighting and bleeding to hand over the pack. Especially not to a man, just because he's male, it's my birthright!

“A man is meant to be alpha, not a woman. You should have agreed to give him the pack.”

Confusion builds within me, as anger ignites deep in my veins. “I’ve proven I can take care of the pack, I’ve proven I can be alpha.! Why is he now pretending I haven't? "Why now, when it matters most, are you refusing to stand by me?”

“You’re a disgrace.” His voice carries clearly through the hall, it slaps hard, full of disdain. “What sort of person rejects becoming Luna just to hold onto a pack? To hold onto a title that is meant for a man?”

I stare at my father, my jaw clenching and my breathing hitching in my lungs. I try to process his words but they are heavy. Meant for a man? If it was meant for a man, I would have been born one! My life, every single second of it, has been spent proving to him that I can lead. I've ensured that I'm strong enough, ruthless enough and that I'm capable enough to carry this pack forward.

Now, at the very moment I should be stepping into my rightful place, he dismisses everything I’ve done as worthless?

“You would rather I give up everything I worked for?” My voice is dangerously quiet, barely controlled rage simmering beneath my skin. I'm not sure how today has ended up this twisted and tangled.

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation. His eyes stay cold and unwavering. “That is exactly what you should have done.”

The disbelief from before turns to hurt and a bitter taste fills my mouth, before slowly, the fury builds. Shaking my head slowly, I struggle to believe this is happening and is real. “You would rather let a man who betrayed me, who betrayed this pack, take control just because he’s a man?”

“This isn’t just about him being a man,” my father snarls. There's clearly irritation flashing across his face. “It’s about tradition, about stability. The pack will question you and you know that they will resist you. You could have avoided all of this by making the right choice.”

A harsh breath escapes me and my anger surges higher. The right choice? He's talking to me about the right choice? Heat floods my cheeks, and rage simmers beneath it.  “I am the right choice!”

“No. You are emotional!” His voice echoes harshly, filling every corner of the hall. I notice the heads turning, then the hushed whispers as everyone's eyes land heavily onto us both. 

“Emotional?” The word burns bitterly in my throat and my body trembles, but I force myself to stay strong, defiant. Emotional, why do men always use that word when it comes to women?

"I’m standing right here after being humiliated in front of my entire pack. After my mate betrayed me in front of everyone, and still, I haven’t fallen apart.” My voice rises, echoing defiantly through the hall. “If I were emotional, I would be tearing through everyone who dares stand against me. Instead, I’m standing here, demanding what’s rightfully mine.”

Panic begins to claw at me because without this pack, without my birthright, I'm going to be lost.

His nostrils flare and his jaw sets tightly, but he doesn’t speak. His silence isn't just loud and damning, it's also confirming everything I already suspected. Slowly, I take a step closer. My voice drops low but I ensure that it's clear enough for him alone to hear. “You don’t want a strong leader. You want someone you can control. And you know I will never be that.”

His eyes narrow slightly. I expect his rage, but instead, his jaw tightens and he remains silent. I glance around the hall, meeting the gazes of pack members watching our confrontation unfold. Some avert their eyes, others shift uneasily, conflicted expressions clouding their faces, but not one steps forward to challenge me.

Because they know the truth. They know I belong as the Alpha, they know I can do it.

I turn back to my father. Lifting my chin in defiance I meet his gaze and refuse to back down. “You may be ashamed of me, but I will never be ashamed of myself. If you can't stand by my side as I take this pack forward, then stand aside.” 

It's an order, and I need to do this.

His lips press into a thin line, his posture suddenly goes rigid. He won’t fight me because he can’t. There’s no one else he can realistically give the pack to. He’s ill, too ill to wait for me to find a second mate, plus I wouldn't give them it either. I watch as something flickers in his eyes, cold and calculating, and dread tightens painfully in my chest.

“I’m giving the title to Kieran.”

His voice rings loudly through the hall, silencing everyone instantly.

No! My heart stops completely, the world seeming to spin in slow motion as his words echo relentlessly inside my head. He's giving it to Kieran, is that a joke?

I search my father’s eyes frantically for a sign of hesitation or bluffing. I would even settle for seeing something that tells me this is a cruel test, but his expression remains stony, resolute, and final. This is real, he's honestly giving it to Kieran!

“You can’t.” My voice trembles dangerously, fists clenched tightly at my sides, nails biting sharply into my palms. “Kieran betrayed me. He betrayed this pack.”

My father scoffs, dismissing my words with a cold wave of his hand. “He secured a future for himself. He secured stability for this pack. Something you were too stubborn to do.”

I shake my head slowly, a bitter, humourless laugh escaping me. How have I not ensured our pack is stable? “Stability? You think handing our pack to our enemy’s bloodline is stability? You’re giving our legacy to a man who slept with our rival and is now bound to them by marriage?”

My father’s eyes darken with anger, but before he can respond, Kieran steps forward smoothly, his arm wrapped possessively around Lyra’s waist. I hate that sight, and I want to puke.

“Veyra, your father is right,” Kieran says. His voice is dripping with smug satisfaction. “You should have given me the pack willingly. Now, it’s mine anyway.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, and the sting of betrayal is fresh and raw now. I glance around the room and meet the stunned and disgusted faces of my pack members. None of them want Kieran or Lyra, yet none dare speak up. Of course they won't.

“And what does that make me?” I ask, hollow desperation seeping into my voice.

Kieran’s grin widens cruelly. “Nothing.”

The word nothing digs into my chest leaving a hollow feeling. 

Lyra giggles beside him, her fingers trailing mockingly along his chest. “Oh, come now, Veyra. You didn’t really think you still had a place here, did you?”

Fury blazes hot and uncontrollable inside me. I want to rip her throat her, yet I force it back down. I know the pack won’t dare intervene. They are all too fearful of Lyra’s pack to stand up for me. “So what now? You take my title, my pack, and what? You expect me to kneel before you two?”

Kieran smirks arrogantly. “No, I expect you to leave.”

Leave? The word hits me and runs through me harder than I expected. It slices into my chest, leaving a gaping wound. He wants me gone, discarded, just like that. From my own pack, the one I was born into!

Tilting her head mockingly, Lyra smiles with triumph gleaming in her eyes. “There’s no room for you here anymore. Kieran is Alpha, and I am Luna. Your father made his choice, just as Kieran did.”

I turn sharply back to my father, barely containing the anguish that twists my heart. “Is this what you wanted? To cast me aside like I was never meant to lead?”

“You made your choice,” he says coldly, unmoved by my pain. “Now live with it.”

The breath catches sharply in my throat, agony and disbelief warring violently inside me. Yet I lift my chin, forcing strength into my trembling legs, refusing to let them see how deeply they’ve wounded me.

I stand tall, even as the world crumbles beneath my feet.