The Lycan King's Secret Triplets

Valerie 

"Tell me this is a sick joke, Dante."

"Lower your voice," he snapped, not even bothering to look at me as he shoved my clothes down the rack.

I stood in the doorway of the Master Suite, my nails digging so hard into my palms that the skin nearly broke. My mate—the Alpha of the Silver Crest Pack—was casually clearing out my side of the walk-in closet.

"You are not moving her in here."

"I'm the Alpha, Valeria. I do what I want." He tossed a stack of my sweaters onto the bed. "Elara needs the space. She’s fragile right now."

"She’s your brother’s widow!" I yelled, stepping into the room. "Not your mate!"

Dante finally turned around. His jaw was clenched, his dark eyes freezing over with that familiar, heartless indifference he reserved only for me. "Leo is dead. His mate and his pup are my responsibility now."

"Responsibility is putting them in the guest wing! Not moving her into our bedroom and treating her pup like your own!" I shot back, my chest heaving. "I am your Luna. This is my room."

"You haven't acted like a Luna in months."

The words hit me like a physical blow. "Because you shut me out! I bled for you, Dante. I held the northern borders while you were in London for business, and this is how you repay me? By discarding me for a fragile girl who can't even tie her own shoes without crying?"

He closed the distance between us in a second, his towering frame casting a dark shadow over me. 

"Watch how you speak about her," he growled. "She has been through hell."

"And what am I going through right now?" I demanded, refusing to back down even as my wolf whimpered at the harshness of his tone. "You're tearing our bond apart for her."

"You're being dramatic. Pack your things, Valeria. You're moving to the east wing."

"No."

Dante’s eyes flashed with pure Alpha command. "It wasn't a request."

"Dante?"

A soft, trembling voice echoed from the hallway. We both turned to see Elara standing there. She wore one of Dante's oversized shirts, her blonde hair messy, clutching her four-year-old son to her hip. She looked small. Pathetic. 

"Is everything okay?" she whispered, shrinking back against the doorframe as if my mere presence terrified her.

Dante's entire demeanor instantly shifted. The cold, ruthless tyrant vanished, replaced by a gentle protector. It made me sick.

"Everything is fine, Elara," Dante said smoothly, walking past me to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Valeria was just leaving to get the rest of her things out of your way."

"I don't want to cause trouble," Elara murmured, looking down at the floor. "If Valeria hates me being here, I can just leave..."

"You aren't going anywhere," Dante interrupted, shooting me a glare. "This is your home now."

"I’m not leaving my room, Dante.”

"Yes, you are," he replied, turning his back on me to escort Elara down the hall. "Have your stuff out by tonight, or I'll have the Omegas burn it."

I stood alone in the center of the bedroom. I was a ghost in my own home.

The tension in the dining hall was suffocating.

Over a hundred elite pack members sat at the long wooden tables, the clinking of silver against porcelain the only sound daring to break the atmosphere. Everyone felt it. The humiliation radiating from the head table.

I sat in my usual chair to the right of the Alpha. But the chair to his left—traditionally empty—was occupied by Elara. And her son sat directly on Dante’s lap.

"Open up, buddy. Here comes the airplane," Dante cooed, feeding the boy a piece of chicken.

Whispers erupted from the lower tables. I kept my eyes fixed on my plate, my food entirely untouched. My jaw ached from how hard I was grinding my teeth.

"Pass the salt, Valeria," Dante ordered without looking at me.

"Valeria. The salt."

"Get it yourself," I said quietly.

The entire hall went silent. Forks paused mid-air. Elara let out a small gasp, covering her mouth with her hand.

Dante slowly set the fork down. He shifted the boy off his lap and handed him to Elara. "Take him to the kitchen, Elara. Get him some dessert."

"Dante, please don't be mad—"

"Go, Elara," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

She scurried away, playing the perfect victim, leaving me alone with the monster I was mated to. Dante slowly turned his head to look at me. His eyes were entirely black. His wolf was at the surface.

"Stand up," he commanded.

I met his gaze, my own pride forcing my chin high. I stood.

"You think you can disrespect me in front of my pack?" he asked, his voice echoing off the walls.

"You disrespected me the second you put her in my seat at this table," I fired back. "I am the Luna of the Silver Crest. Not her."

"You are nothing but an entitled brat who cares more about a title than the survival of this family," Dante sneered, standing up to match my height.

"Survival? She's wearing your clothes, sleeping in my bed, and acting like she owns this pack! You are blind, Dante!"

"Shut your mouth!" he roared, slamming his fist onto the table. The wood cracked under the sheer force of his anger. Several pack members flinched.

"Make me," I challenged, the pain in my chest morphing into reckless, blazing anger. "Reject me then, Dante. If you want her so badly, do it. Say the words. Sever the bond right now."

I waited for it. A part of me craved the rejection just to end the agonizing daily torture of his indifference.

But Dante just laughed. It was a dark, humorless sound that sent a chill down my spine.

"Reject you?" he mocked, leaning in close so only I could smell the malice rolling off him. "Why would I reject you and give you the satisfaction of walking away free? No, Valeria. You are going to stay right here."

"I won't be a prisoner in my own pack."

"You don't have a choice." Dante turned to face the silent, watching crowd. He raised his voice, projecting his Alpha command across the room. "Hear me! From this night forward, Valeria is stripped of her Luna duties."

Gasps echoed through the hall. My heart plummeted into my stomach.

"Dante, stop," I whispered, the first crack of genuine panic breaking through my voice.

He ignored me, his eyes locked on the crowd. "She has proven herself unstable, selfish, and unworthy of the title. Elara will assume all Luna responsibilities regarding pack welfare and internal affairs."

"You can't do this!" I screamed, lunging forward, but his hand shot out, wrapping around my throat.

He shoved me backward, and I stumbled, catching myself on the edge of the table.

"It's done," Dante said coldly.

"You are stripped of your rank. You will move to the Omega quarters tonight."