My Alpha Betrayed Me, So I Took Everything

The night before Thalia Wyndefern was to take her vows, her mother died on a cliff.

Moonlight washed the rocks in silver as Thalia stood trembling. Her betrothed, Drake Valecrown, held her close, eyes hard with grief and a promise to hunt down whoever had stolen a life from her.

Three years later, standing beneath the low lamps of the pack infirmary, Thalia read the faint double line that marked the beginning of a new life.

The pack medic murmured something about her father’s heart-source—a donor compatible with the blood of their line—and Thalia’s pulse quickened.

She rushed through the whitewashed corridors, only to find her Alpha folded in the arms of his first love, Naeryn Rothewyn, in a private ward.

“Don’t worry,” Naeryn said, her voice soft as a purr. “The pack medic found a compatible heart-source. I’ll speak with him and petition the Pack Council's medic board to prioritize Fiora—a request that, under Pack law, normally requires Council review unless the Alpha invokes an emergency override. Rothewyn first.”

“But that heart was promised to Thalia’s grandfather,” someone whispered nearby. “She’ll be furious if it’s reassigned.”

Drake’s tone was cold as winter. “So what? Three years ago, we took that pup’s heart and kidney to save your father. This time, we take another heart. It’s no different.”

“And don’t bother over her mother’s death,” Naeryn went on, voice steady. “I destroyed the trail for you. No one will trace it back.”

The words landed in Thalia like a claw. The truth trickled into place: they had been responsible—three years ago—for the deaths that had shattered her life.

Now Drake and Naeryn plotted to take her father’s heart for their own pup’s survival.

Thalia stepped away from the bed and called on a man who hated Drake—a rival pack-Alpha with an old grievance.

“I want to ruin Drake and Naeryn,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Will you help me?”

“You saw it finally,” the rival replied without hesitation. “I told you Drake was twisted. So—divorce him, take shelter with me. I always liked you.” His tone was practical, not kind.

She studied the pair in the ward: Drake gentle with Naeryn, the way his scent softened when he drew near her.

Thalia lowered her head and managed a bitter smile. “I’ll be your mate,” she said, “but only if you find a new heart-source. If you secure one today, I’ll be on the next moonflight.”

“Give me a week. Don’t forget to come.” The rival’s promise came quickly.

Before hanging the link, Thalia added in a whisper meant only for him, “I just found out. I’m one moon gone. I will leave him and keep this pup.”

There was no pause on the other end. “It’s only one pup. I can provide for it.”

She would rise from the ash of what she had been and claim her own crown. It was time for Drake and Naeryn to fall into the trap she would set.

She had taken the test three days before and had wanted to share the news with Drake.

He had been hurried—duty, he said. Now it was painfully plain where his loyalties lay: with Naeryn and the pup she carried.

Drake’s comm-throat buzzed at his belt, the pack medic was calling. He leaned down and brushed a kiss on Naeryn’s cheek.

“Wait here. I’m going to speak with the pack medic about my father’s heart.”

As he moved away, Naeryn smoothed the illusion of hurt from her features and turned toward the stairwell where Thalia watched.

“How pathetic,” Naeryn said, voice silk over steel. “Three years of being his mate and you lurk in the shadows, watching someone else take pleasure.”

Thalia laughed once, bitter. “Isn’t the real pity yours? You gave him a pup, yet you’ve won nothing but borrowed status. As long as I remain, the title of Luna Valecrown is mine.”

Her words cut. Naeryn’s face twisted. “Drake has always loved me. You stole my place.”

“Drake and I were one another’s first moon-mate. We swore to grow old together. Thalia—you were the interloper.”

A flare of pain lanced Thalia’s ribs. Instinctively she pressed a hand to her belly, the prenatal scroll slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the stone.

Naeryn stooped to pick it up. When she saw the inked symbol marking one month, triumph twisted her features further.

“Thalia,” Naeryn said, with false pity. “I can’t believe you’re with pup again. You heard what Drake said—your first pup’s heart saved my father.”

“But there’s more,” Naeryn added, voice small with a practiced sorrow. “Drake promised me that even if he mated you, his bloodline would remain mine. Imagine what will happen if he learns you carry another brood.”

Thalia saw the wedge for what it was.

For a moment she did not care. She lifted her hand and struck Naeryn across the cheek.

The slap sounded sharp in the stairwell. Naeryn bit the lie as she fell, the practiced sob spilling out like water.

“Thalia—”

Thalia bristled at the name that had been forced on her by others, anger made her steadier than the waver of tears rising to her own eyes. She had almost mocked Naeryn’s show when Drake’s voice cut across them, flat and cold.

“Why are you here?” he demanded. “Why can’t you speak with dignity? Why strike someone? Thalia, what happened to you?”

Thalia opened her mouth, but Naeryn seized Drake’s arm. With a trembling that was all theater, she crooned, “Drake, Thalia must have reasons. I shouldn’t keep you. If she calms, she can strike me as she will.”

As rehearsed, Drake softened. “No one should be struck. This is Thalia’s fault. I’ll keep it straight.”

He stepped forward and gripped Thalia’s shoulder.

“Fight back,” he instructed Naeryn and then—as if to teach the lesson—he struck Thalia with his hand.

The blow knocked the breath from her. Her stomach slammed into the stair’s stone edge. Drake turned away without a backward glance, leading Naeryn away as if nothing mattered more than her fragile performance.

Thalia crumpled, palm pressed to her belly where a hot dark fleck spread across her hand. Blood stained the floor in a stark, unbearable mark.

“My pup…”

Light leaked away. The Moon’s face swam and then everything went black.