My Son's Last Wish Was Shattered by my Alpha Mate

The snow fell quietly as I closed the door behind me, the echo of an empty house lingering longer than it should. Every corner still held traces of Dustin — his drawings on the walls, the faint sound of his laughter etched into the silence. It had always been just him and me in that house, while Craig, our Alpha, was barely more than a ghost within it.

It hadn’t always been this clear to me. I used to hope. Foolishly.

Dustin’s final birthday wish had been so simple: a family celebration. One day. One night. Together.

Craig, my mate, only agreed after much begging. I should’ve known better. That night, he never showed up. Instead, my son — our son — took his final breath, alone but for me. His last wish, like so many others, left unanswered.

I buried Dustin alone, numb and hollowed. It was only after the funeral that the truth reached me: while I was lighting candles over our son's grave, Craig was with my sister Sonya, basking in the serenity of distant snowy peaks far beyond the pack’s territory.

The betrayal no longer stung — I had become used to being an afterthought. From the beginning, it was clear who Craig’s heart truly beat for. Despite the Moon Goddess binding us as mates, I had never been his choice. Sonya was.

Still, I had held on. For Dustin. Now, there was no reason left.

So I packed. Silently. Without confrontation.

As fate would have it, Craig returned as I was dragging my suitcase downstairs. And he wasn’t alone. In his arms was Sonya, giggling softly, her head nestled into his neck. She murmured something about feeling dizzy, and he responded with such tender concern, gently laying her on the couch like she might break.

He didn't even notice me at first.

When he finally did, his voice was flat. “Kristen, what is this about now?”

Sonya peeked up with a soft, apologetic smile. “I just wasn’t feeling well. Craig thought it’d be best if I rested here for a while. I hope that’s okay with you.”

It was absurd — of course it was just a bit of dizziness. But to Craig, it warranted more care than he ever gave me. I remembered when I’d been attacked by a rogue, blood trailing down my arm, and I’d begged for his help. His reply was ice-cold: “It’s not life-threatening. Don’t waste my time.”

I was his Luna, his wife, his mate — yet none of it ever mattered.

That night, as he pleaded for me to stay, as if he'd only just realized I existed, I looked at him one last time.

And I left.