The Alpha’s Plus Size Obsession

Modric POV I slammed the door to my father’s study harder than I should have, but the sound barely registered over the roar in my head. Alpha Volkov, my father sat behind his desk like a king on his throne, the contract papers spread out in front of him like some kind of death sentence. His face was carved from stone, gray eyes the same shade as mine staring back at me without a flicker of doubt. “It’s signed, Modric,” he said, voice flat. “The Moon Council approved the alliance. You’re marrying Mary Ann Sterling this weekend. The ceremony is set for Saturday at the neutral grounds. No more delays.” The words landed like a punch to the gut. I laughed, sharp and bitter. “The hell I am. I’m not marrying that girl. I love Velvera. She’s been by my side for years. She’s going to be my Luna. End of discussion.” Father rose slowly, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the room. He’d always been intimidating, even as age had started to silver his temples. But tonight, he lo

Mary AnnThe cheers and howls from the ceremony still echoed in my ears as the reception spilled into the grand clearing behind the ceremonial grounds. Lanterns hung from the trees, casting a golden glow over long tables heavy with food and drink. Music played—soft drums and strings that should have felt celebratory. Instead, everything felt hollow. Modric disappeared almost immediately after the vows. One moment his arm was tense under my fingers as we walked back down the aisle, the next he was gone, melting into the crowd with a muttered excuse about pack business. I stood there alone near the head table, my beautiful lace gown suddenly feeling too tight, too exposed. My wolf whined inside me, still buzzing from that corner-of-the-lips kiss and the electric spark that had passed between us. But my husband? Nowhere to be seen. Guests whispered behind my back. I could hear the murmurs even as I pretended not to. “…plus-size Luna for Ironclaw? Bold choice.” “Modric must be furiou

Mary AnnThe Alpha suite felt more like a cage than a sanctuary.A kind-faced older omega named Greta had led me here after the reception finally wound down, chattering softly about how the rooms had been freshly prepared for the new Luna. I nodded along, smiling when I was supposed to, but my mind was miles away. The grand double doors clicked shut behind her, and the silence that followed pressed down on me like a heavy blanket.I stood in the middle of the massive bedroom, taking it all in. Dark wood furniture, deep navy and silver accents, a bed so large it could have fit half my old pack house. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the Ironclaw forest, moonlight spilling across the plush rugs. It was beautiful. Luxurious. And completely empty of the one person who was supposed to be here with me.Modric wasn’t coming back.I’d waited for nearly an hour, perched on the edge of an armchair in my wedding gown, listening for footsteps in the hallway. Nothing. The spark from our kiss st

Mary AnnThe first few days in the Luna Wing passed in a quiet blur of determination. I refused to sit idle while the mate bond pulled at me and Modric kept his distance. Instead, I toured the pack lands thoroughly, listening more than I spoke. What I saw broke my heart in places.The kitchens were chaotic—food wasted daily because of poor storage and outdated systems. The infirmary lacked basic supplies and organization, leaving healers overwhelmed. And the orphan quarters… the children there had threadbare blankets and meals that barely satisfied growing wolves. I didn’t complain or demand changes from the top. That wasn’t my style. I rolled up my sleeves instead.I started small. In the kitchens, I worked alongside the older women, quietly reorganizing shelves, creating inventory lists, and showing them simple ways to preserve leftovers. We turned scraps into nourishing stews and redistributed excess to families who needed it most. The changes saved enough supplies in just a few da

Mary AnnI slammed the door to my room in the Luna Wing and twisted the lock with shaking fingers. The click echoed like a gunshot in the quiet space. My back pressed against the solid wood as I slid down to the floor, knees drawn up to my chest. My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my throat, in my temples, everywhere. The taste of him still lingered on my lipswhiskey and heat and something dangerously addictive.That kiss.Goddess help me, that kiss.I pressed my fingers to my swollen mouth, tracing the spot where Modric had claimed me so thoroughly. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. It was meant to be anger, punishment, a power play from the man who had once torn me apart with words. Instead, it had been fire. Raw, consuming fire that had burned through every defense I’d built over the years. I could still feel the press of his hard body against my softness, the way his hands had gripped my waist like he never wanted to let go, the deep groan that had vibrated from hi