The Beta Who Stole the Crown

After ten years together, right before my mate Isaac was about to inherit his Alpha title, he chose another she-wolf to be his Luna. All because, he said, she was so much like the girl I used to be.

My heart shattered. So I turned and chose his uncle, Alpha Vincent.

The day of the Alpha ceremony.

My hands smoothed over the silk of my ceremonial gown.

Excitement thrummed through me, a frantic drum against my ribs.

I’d waited ten years for this.

Ten years to finally stand by my Alpha’s side, to officially become the Pack’s Luna.

The next second, the door opened.

Isaac walked in.

"You're finally here!" I ran to him, my eyes filled with joy. "Look at this gown, it took me three months..."

"Kira." His voice was flat. A stranger's voice. "We need to talk."

I stopped.

Something was terribly wrong. He wore a stranger's face, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"What is it?" I forced a smile. "Ceremony jitters? Everyone gets them. It's okay to be nervous."

"It's not that." Isaac shut the door, leaning against it. "It's about Chloe."

My smile froze. "What?"

"She reminds me of the girl you used to be," Isaac said, his voice laced with a tenderness I hadn’t heard in years.

A tenderness that was no longer for me.

"Remember when you were eighteen? So vibrant, so free. She’s just like that."

Of course, I remembered. The past slammed into me.

I remembered wearing a leather jacket, running wild under the moon.

I remembered staying up all night to paint the perfect sunrise.

I remembered saying my biggest dream was to travel the world.

But it was Isaac who held my hand and told me, "Kira, a Luna must be poised. Dignified. Our pack needs a steady hand, not a wild heart. For us... just for a little while... change."

So I put away my paintbrushes. I locked up my leather jacket.

I buried my wild heart. I molded myself into his perfect Head Beta.

His perfect Luna.

I thought we were building an empire together, stone by painful stone.

And now, he was telling me he missed the very girl he’d asked me to kill.

"Isaac, what are you talking about?" My voice began to tremble.

"I want her to be my Luna."

The world stopped spinning.

"What?" I thought I’d misheard. "What did you say?"

"Chloe should be my Luna," Isaac said, finally meeting my eyes.

"But you can keep your position as Beta. You run the pack's businesses. You hold the real power. The Luna title is just a... formality."

"A formality?" My voice turned sharp. "Ten years, Isaac! I've waited ten years to be your Luna! I changed everything to be worthy of you...my personality, my hobbies, my entire life!"

"I know you made sacrifices..."

"Sacrifices?" A cold, sharp laugh ripped from my throat. "That wasn't a sacrifice. It was an investment. Ten years of my life, my loyalty, my soul. And for what? To be told I’m not good enough to be your wife, just your workhorse?"

Isaac took a step forward. "Kira, you’re misunderstanding. I need you..."

"You need my skills. Not me."

I turned back to the gown.

Every bead I had sewn by hand. Every detail I had adjusted.

For tomorrow. For being his Luna. For proving I was worthy.

And now it was all a joke.

"Tell me, Isaac!" I jabbed a finger at the mark on my neck.

It used to be my pride. My entire world.

"Look at this mark and answer me! You marked me. I am your fated mate, blessed by the Goddess! How dare you betray our bond?"

I focused my will, trying to channel the power of the mark.

A true bond would punish the betrayer. A searing, soul-tearing pain.

I waited for him to fall to his knees. To beg.

But Isaac just stood there.

His face was full of guilt, but not a flicker of pain.

Nothing happened.

A switch flipped in my head. Something snapped.

Why... why wasn't the mark working?

"Kira..." He looked at me with pity.

That look was a knife twisting in my heart.

"No... it's not possible..." I stumbled to the mirror, staring at the mark in terror for the first time.

It looked perfect. The same as it had for ten years.

But why...

My hand trembled as I wiped at it. Hard.

My fingertips didn't meet the solid feel of skin fused with magic.

Instead, I felt... a sticky, greasy texture. Like paint.

The bond I had trusted for a decade... smudged under my own touch.

"It's fake," I whispered, sliding down the mirror to the floor.

Isaac finally moved, crouching beside me. "Kira, I..."

"Why?" I looked up, my eyes locking onto his. I searched his face for a crack in the mask. "A fake mark can't last ten years. Any full moon ceremony... it would have been exposed!"

Isaac's gaze darted away.

His eyes flicked to the half-empty cup of chamomile tea on the table.

My head followed his gaze.

That tea.

He brewed it for me himself. Every single day for ten years.

He said it was to calm my nerves, to keep me healthy so I could be the perfect Luna.

He said it was his love.

A monstrous, sickening thought exploded in my mind.

"It was the tea, wasn't it?" My voice was a raw croak. "You put something in my tea."

The color drained from Isaac's face.

"A fake mark wasn't enough for you. A lie wasn't enough."

I pushed myself up from the floor, swaying on my feet.

Every word was another cut, straight to my soul.

"You had to drug me, too! Every day, feeding me a potion in this tea to maintain the fake mark, to keep the lie alive! And you called it 'caring for me,' letting me play the fool who gratefully swallowed your poison for ten whole years!"

I swept the cup off the table. It shattered, splashing scalding tea across his pants.

"And now, because you want another woman, you stopped the potion. That's the only reason this lie finally came to light. Isn't it?!"

"A fake mark," I choked out, the words tasting like poison.

"You used a fake mark to chain me to you for ten years. You let me believe I was your destiny, all so I would build your empire for you!"

"Kira..."

I grabbed the celebratory bottle of wine and hurled it to the ground with all my strength.

Glass shattered everywhere.

Red wine bled across the silver silk, a grotesque stain on my shattered dream.

"Kira, don't!"

But I had already grabbed the dress.

Every cold pearl on it was once a warm hope for our future.

I looked at his horrified face. "I spent three months sewing this gown," I said, my voice deadly calm.

I gripped the silk and ripped. The sound tore through the silence.

"And I spent ten years carving myself into the perfect, cold doll you demanded."

I threw the ruined silk at his feet.

"There. The gown is ruined. Just like the perfect little doll you tried to make."

I walked to the door. Isaac blocked my path.

"Where are you going?"

I pushed him aside. "To get the life I should have had ten years ago."

Twenty minutes later, I stood in the Elders’ Council chamber.

The seven elders sat behind a long, curved table, summoned for this "emergency."

My voice echoed in the hall, clear and cold.

"Elders, Isaac, my so-called fated mate, wants Chloe to be his Luna. And this mark on my neck is a fake."