Alpha's Craving For My Love

When I lost my pup in a rogue attack, Ethan just happened to be there, driving by with his assistant, Fiona, in the passenger seat. He saw my blood-soaked dress, and instead of stopping to help or even offering a shred of concern, he shielded Fiona’s eyes and muttered, "Bad luck. Don’t look." Then he sped off.

I tended to my wound by providing first aid and went to the healers.

That same night, I found something that confirmed everything I had been ignoring for months. As I opened the closet door in Alpha's house, a lace bra—one that wasn’t mine—was stuffed in the corner.

I calmly closed the closet and dialed a number. “Mr. Reed, I’ve made my decision. I can start at your company next week.”

“Wonderful news, Skylar! We’re excited to have you on board!” He replied, his voice cheerful.

The moment I hung up, Ethan walked out of the bathroom. His damp hair clung to his face, his skin still wet from the shower. He used to be quick—five minutes at most. Now, his showers lasted half an hour, his phone was always in hand.

“Who were you talking to?” He asked without looking up from his phone, his tone dismissive, as usual.

“Just Mr. Reed,” I replied evenly.

Mr. Reed is the current Alpha from my previous pack after my father resigned. Ethan is not on good terms with him although they are trying to be civilised in pack meetings.

"Ah," he muttered, already distracted. He barely paid attention anymore, his thoughts constantly elsewhere—probably on her.

I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry or scream like I used to when he brushed me off. Instead, I opened my phone and quietly started drafting my resignation letter. My mind was made up.

Ethan glanced at the empty spot on the nightstand where his usual cup of tea should’ve been. For the first time in seven years, I hadn’t made it for him. He finally looked at me, confusion crossing his face.

“I showed your CT scan to a specialist,” he said casually. “It’s nothing serious and it was just a minor injury. Make sure to keep the wound dry.”

I stared at him, unblinking. The wound he referred to was a deep gash in my leg, requiring eight stitches, the result of the rogue attack. Worse still, I’d found out that I had been four weeks pregnant—our pup had gone before I even had a chance to protect it.

The doctor had told me if I’d been taken to the hospital sooner, the pup might have been saved. But Ethan wasn’t there. He never was.

Or he was, but he only passed by me.

He stepped closer, likely to check what I was doing, but just then his phone buzzed. A smile tugged at his lips before he turned, heading straight into his studies.

As soon as he was gone, I opened my secret social media account. I wasn’t surprised to see his latest post, one visible to everyone but me.

I shouldn’t have let the cutest assistant in the world down. Promised her dinner after work, but got caught up in a meeting. My bad. I’ll make it up to her.

I liked the post with a cold smile, and in the next moment, an email from Mr. Reed popped up—my new contract. I clicked the link and signed it without hesitation. I was leaving this pack, and Ethan, behind.

The next morning, Ethan left early and returned with bagels from a bakery he knew I liked. I reached into the bag, hoping for a chocolate croissant, but before I could grab one, his hand slapped mine away.

“You like peanut butter-flavored bread, right? Got one just for you,” he said, without meeting my eyes.

I froze. After seven years together, he still didn’t know—or didn’t care—that I was allergic to peanuts. The chocolate croissants weren’t for me. They were for Fiona.

“We’ve been together for seven years,” I said quietly, “and you still don’t know I can’t eat peanuts?”

His expression darkened, frustration clouding his features. “Stop making a fuss. Eat or don’t. I don’t care.”

I didn’t argue. Instead, I walked to the bedroom, grabbed the lace bra, and returned. I handed it to him, my voice steady. “When you see Fiona later, return this to her.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed as he peeked inside the bag. When he saw the lace bra, surprise flickered across his face. He opened his mouth, probably to deny or explain, but when he saw my calm expression, he said, “I’ll tell her to stop leaving things around.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, turning away.

For a moment, Ethan seemed to sense something was wrong. “I can give you a ride to work,” he offered, as if that would fix everything.

Seven years together, and not once had he driven me to work. I had trudged through storms, through snow, without a single offer of help. Yet Fiona, on her very first day, was chauffeured by him like a queen.

Without another word, I grabbed my bag and left.

That was the moment I knew. I wasn’t just leaving the city. I was leaving him, too. I'm breaking up with Alpha for good.