Bonded with the Alpha as My Sister’s Stand-In

“Do you think that just by being nice to me, I’ll start liking you?”

I froze, nearly dropping the tray in my hands.

Jazzy stood at the end of the hallway, wearing the little suit jacket I had ironed for him just last night.

“Are you doing all this just to make me forget my mom?” He took a few steps closer, his brows furrowed. “Do you think cooking good food, giving me gifts, and sleeping next to me will make me call you ‘mom’?”

I tried to speak, but my throat tightened. Not a single word came out.

“You’re not her.” His voice was deadly serious. “You’re just wearing her necklace, and always sneaking into her dresses.”

His voice trembled.

“She was my real mom. You’re just... someone trying to steal my home.”

My thirtieth birthday should’ve been sacred.

It was the first one I celebrated after becoming Luna to Alpha Azrael of the Blackthorn pack. It also became the day I paid the ultimate price.

For eight years, I had lived under the name of Luna — raising a child who wasn’t mine, lying beside a man who whispered my sister’s name in his sleep.

That morning, Jazzy had sent a girl I barely recognized to deliver a birthday gift.

She handed me a small box with a ribbon tied neatly on top.

I didn’t think much of it. Just thought it was a child’s gesture.

He stood in the distance, leaning against the doorway, his face blank.

I opened the box. Inside was a crescent moon-shaped chocolate — my sister’s favorite shape when she was alive.

I took a bite. It was bitter, with a faint trace of sweetness. Just like the last eight years of my life — pretending to be happy.

By the second bite, my stomach twisted violently.

A wave of pain tore through me. I collapsed, clutching the nearby tree with bloodless fingers.

Cold sweat drenched me. My lips turned white. I could barely speak.

I forced my head up, looking at him. “Jazzy… call the pack doctor…”

He didn’t move. His gaze was like a mirror — reflecting no emotion at all.

“Did you really think I still believe you?” His voice was like a blade scraping against stone. “You’ve been trying to erase her from my world. You pretend to be kind, act gentle, take me to the orphanage, throw birthday parties — all so I would think you’re her.”

I gasped, pain blurring my vision. “I… never wanted to replace her.”

He chuckled. It didn’t sound like a child at all. “You think too much. The harder you try, the clearer I see — you’ll always be an outsider who doesn’t belong here.”

My stomach churned again. It wasn’t just the poison — it was his words.

I reached for the door, but my limbs were too weak. It was as if every bone and tendon had been drained.

“It was the chocolate, wasn’t it?” I croaked. “And… the snake last year, the toys with hidden needles…”

He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “You’re finally getting smarter. Shame it’s too late.”

His voice tore my heart apart.

I had once fed him with my own hands, stitched his torn cloak, stayed by his side for three nights straight when he had a fever.

I once believed that blood didn’t define love or belonging.

But maybe I was wrong.

Maybe… it was time to let go.

Clearly, I was never needed here.

And yet, when I finally left — one by one, they all came back with their heads lowered: Alpha Azrael, Jazzy, even the whole pack.

“Luna Aurora, have you truly decided to step down from your Luna duties?”

In the pack garden, the sunlight was so bright it felt cruel.

Elder Robin spoke gently, like he feared shattering something.

“Jazzy’s still young. He needs you.”

I smiled slightly. But in my eyes, everything was already still — like a dried-up well.

“You begged me to stay once, saying I could save this pack.” I looked at him. “I agreed, not for you — but because I owed my sister a life. Now, her child is grown. He doesn’t need me anymore. He never really did.”

For eight years, I did everything a Luna should do — and more.

I managed the pack, cared for Jazzy, cooked and served Alpha Azrael, weathered countless storms… and never once heard a “thank you.”

Now, I was finally letting go — because to this pack, which I had supported for eight long years, I was nothing but a replaceable shadow.

I pushed open the packhouse doors and stepped into the bathhouse.

Hot water poured down, steam rising. I closed my eyes, thinking I could enjoy one final moment of peace.

But it was a trap — one that had been waiting for me all along.

A pungent smell hit me. My skin turned bright red, as though doused in acid.

I screamed, slapping at my burning flesh, but only heard the mocking laughter of Omegas down the corridor.

No one came to help.

I was naked, burned, humiliated — a joke.

And then he appeared.

Jazzy stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a cold smirk tugging at his lips.

“You scream so loud. Isn’t it annoying?” he tilted his head. “But I guess it’s good. At least now you know — no one cares about you.”

His gaze hurt more than the boiling water.

I stared at him in disbelief as memories from an hour ago at the orphanage came flooding back — the birthday celebration I had carefully planned, turned once again into a mass poisoning.

I had only wanted to bring love to that place. What I got in return was blood, tears, and a cloud of toxic powder.

That morning, I brought over 70 gifts — hoping to show those children that even without blood ties, I would protect them.

But when needles pierced their palms, balloons exploded with tear gas, and cries filled the air, I understood — this was another strike against me.

“She’s back again.”

“Last year it was snakes, this year it’s poison powder. When will she finally leave?”

At the pack hospital, the children were treated. The doctors looked grim.

Alpha Azrael arrived in a hurry with Jazzy.

I ran to him, full of hope. “You came. The children… they’re safe now.”

But he only stared at me, voice dark and low like the sky before a storm. “What did you do this time?”

I froze. The world seemed to collapse.

We had made a deal — even if we were cold behind closed doors, we’d always act like a proper Alpha and Luna in front of others. Now, he couldn’t even pretend.

“You think I did this?” I forced a smile. “How could I hurt those kids? I was only trying to carry on the kindness my sister left behind.”

He didn’t respond. He just turned and walked away with the doctor, not even glancing back.

I sat alone on the bench, whispers and judgmental stares all around me.

Then, a little girl walked up and handed me a delicate gift box. “This is for you, Luna,” she said shyly. “Someone asked me to give it to you.”

I accepted it with a smile — maybe the last shred of dignity I had that day.

I opened the box. A familiar crescent-shaped chocolate lay inside.

Without hesitation, I took a bite. Sweet, bitter, intense — like all the grievances of the past eight years melted into one.

The next second, searing pain shot through my gut. The poison spread through my veins, stealing my vision.

I staggered to my feet, raised my head — and saw him at the end of the hallway.

Jazzy.

He stood there, wearing a perfect smile.

He had known all along.

He had set the trap — and waited for me to walk right into it.