I Rejected My Alpha After He Chose His Mistress

I smelled her before I saw her.

The scent hit me the moment I stepped through the pack house doors — cheap vanilla perfume mixed with something sharper, something that didn't belong in the Alpha's private quarters. My wolf Lyra stirred uneasily in my mind, a low warning growl that I ignored because I was tired. The land dispute mediation with the Riverbend Pack had dragged on for hours, and all I wanted was a hot shower and Edison's arms around me.

I climbed the stairs to our chambers, my Luna duties finally done for the day. The door was ajar. That should have been my first clue. Edison always closed it.

I pushed it open.

Edison was in our bed. Our bed. The one we'd shared for three years, the one where he'd marked me on our mating night, the one that still smelled like wild jasmine and cedar — my scent and his, blended together the way the Moon Goddess intended.

Charlee Ramirez was under him.

She was an Omega from the kitchens. I knew her face the way I knew all the pack members' faces — in passing, with polite nods during meal prep supervision. She had dark hair and sharp eyes and right now those eyes were locked on mine over Edison's shoulder. She didn't look away. She didn't even flinch.

She smiled.

It wasn't a guilty smile. It wasn't apologetic or ashamed. It was the smile of someone who believed she'd already won.

"Simone." Edison's voice was rough. He pulled away from Charlee and turned to face me, and I waited for the horror to cross his features. The regret. The desperate scramble to explain.

It didn't come.

"You're back early," he said flatly.

I couldn't move. My feet were rooted to the floor. Lyra was snarling now, a vicious sound that filled my skull, but my human mouth couldn't form words. I stared at the man I'd given up everything for — the Continental Alpha Trials, my warrior career, my entire future — and tried to find something familiar in his face.

"Leave," Edison said.

I blinked. "What?"

"I said leave." His voice dropped into that tone. The Alpha tone. The one that compelled obedience from every wolf in the pack, the one that vibrated through bones and made submission automatic.

My knees buckled slightly. The command hit me like a physical weight, pressing down on my shoulders, my chest, my lungs. I fought it. Lyra fought it. But the mate bond amplified it, turned it into something I couldn't fully resist.

I took one step back. Then another.

Charlee was still smiling.

I turned and walked out of my own chambers. The door clicked shut behind me. I stood in the hallway, staring at the wood grain, and Lyra went completely silent in my mind. Not angry. Not snarling. Just... gone.

That silence was worse than any howl.

I don't know how long I stood there. Long enough for my legs to stop shaking. Long enough for the mate bond to stop screaming inside my chest. Long enough to hear the commotion downstairs — shouting, running footsteps, the particular chaos that meant something had gone very wrong.

I moved on instinct. Down the stairs, through the main hall, following the sounds to the pack house entrance.

Aila was on the floor.

My baby sister. Twenty years old, border patrol, always smiling, always calling me "Si" in that teasing voice that made me feel like a person instead of a Luna.

She wasn't smiling now.

Her patrol partners had dragged her inside, and there was blood everywhere — spreading across the stone in a dark pool, soaking through her shredded uniform. A massive slash tore across her abdomen, deep enough that I could see things that should never be visible. Her face was sheet-white. Her breathing came in shallow, rattling gasps.

"Aila!" I dropped to my knees beside her, my hands hovering uselessly over the wound. "Someone get the healer! Now!"

"Rogue attack," one of her partners stammered. "Ricky. He was waiting for us. He went straight for her."

Ricky. Charlee's foster brother. The rogue who'd been lurking near our borders for weeks.

I pressed my hands against Aila's wound, trying to slow the bleeding. Her blood was hot and slick and there was so much of it. "Aila, stay with me. The healer's coming. Just stay with me."

Her eyes found mine. "Si," she whispered.

Footsteps on the stairs. Marcus Webb, our pack healer, appeared with his medical bag. Relief flooded through me.

"Marcus, thank the Goddess—"

"Healer." Edison's voice cut through the room. He was descending the stairs, still buttoning his shirt. Charlee was behind him, her face buried in her hands, making high-pitched sobbing sounds.

"Alpha," Marcus said, moving toward Aila.

"Attend to Charlee first," Edison commanded. "She's having a panic attack."

I stared at him. "What?"

Marcus hesitated, his gaze flicking between Edison and Aila's dying body.

"My sister is bleeding out!" I snapped. "I'm invoking my Luna authority. Treat Aila. Now."

Edison's eyes went cold. "And I'm overriding it with my Alpha authority." That tone again, deeper this time, absolute. "Healer Webb. Attend to Charlee."

Marcus's face went blank. The Alpha command settled over him like a chain. He turned away from Aila and walked toward Charlee.

"No!" I lunged for Marcus, but two pack warriors grabbed my arms, holding me back. "Edison, please! She's dying!"

Edison didn't even look at me. He was focused on Charlee, murmuring something soothing as Marcus checked her pulse and breathing.

I fought against the warriors' grip, screaming, begging, but they held firm. The pack stood in a silent circle around us. No one moved. No one spoke. They just watched.

I turned back to Aila. Her hand found mine, her grip weak.

"Si," she breathed again.

I squeezed her fingers. "I'm here. I'm right here."

Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Her eyes stayed on my face — trusting, confused, asking me a question I couldn't answer.

Why isn't anyone helping me?

The light in her eyes dimmed. Her hand went slack in mine.

"Aila? Aila!" I shook her shoulder. "No, no, no. Aila, please."

Marcus finally turned back, his face stricken. He dropped beside us and checked for a pulse.

The silence that followed told me everything.

"I'm sorry," Marcus whispered. "I'm so sorry."

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. I stared at my sister's empty eyes and felt something inside me crack clean through.

Edison's voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Everyone who witnessed this — you will not speak of what happened here. That is an Alpha command."

The weight of it crashed over the room. Every wolf flinched as the command settled into their bones, binding their tongues, sealing their silence.

Edison gestured to the warriors still holding me. "Take her to the Omega quarters. She needs time to... calm down."

They dragged me toward the basement stairs. I didn't fight. I couldn't. I was still staring at Aila's body, at the blood spreading across the floor, at the pack members who wouldn't meet my eyes.

The Omega quarters were windowless and cold. They shoved me inside and threw the bolt from the outside.

I sank to the floor in the darkness.

Lyra was still silent.