The Alpha's Betrayal

Abigail’s POV

The hall thundered with cheers, but my father’s voice cut through it all like a blade.

“I announce to you today the Alpha of the Lionheart Pack—the first female Alpha in the history of our kind. She has shown resilience, strength, and…”

The rest faded into a muffled hum in my ears. My pulse was pounding too loudly for me to hear anything else.

This was it. The moment I’d bled, sweated, and starved for. The moment I’d traded teenage parties for bruised knuckles and sleepless nights. While others danced under moonlight, I trained until my bones ached. While they laughed over stolen kisses, I tightened bandages over split knuckles and stretched sore muscles before dawn. All so I could stand here today.

The crowd’s energy vibrated through the floorboards, and my smile pulled wider. I had earned this—every gasp of breath, every scar, every lonely night when I’d asked the moon why I wasn’t enough. I’d done it despite the one thing that should have doomed me: I had no wolf.

By eleven, my friends were shifting for the first time, their howls echoing in the forest, voices carried on the wind like a hymn of belonging. I remained… human. Latent. So I’d trained harder than anyone else, learning to fight without the gift I’d been denied. If I couldn’t match them in fur, I’d match them in steel, in speed, in discipline. I forged myself into a weapon because without a wolf, I had to be sharper than everyone else.

The scent of perfume and champagne drifted from the front rows, sickly sweet compared to the honest musk of sweat and leather I preferred. That’s where I spotted them—Luna Jessica and her daughter, Jedidiah—my stepsister. Both wore the kind of smiles that didn’t reach their eyes, the kind that tasted of venom. Their lips stretched into perfect arcs, but their eyes glittered with satisfaction, not pride.

They had no right to glare at me like that. Jedidiah especially. While I was sweating in the training grounds until my hands blistered, she was drunk in someone’s arms or skipping class entirely. She’d never wanted the responsibility. She didn’t understand what it meant to bleed for a title, to sacrifice every ounce of softness for strength. And yet here she was, watching me with the smug certainty of someone who already thought the world belonged to her.

Strong arms slid around me from behind, grounding me. “I’m so proud of you,” James murmured against my neck. His lips brushed my skin, and for a moment, the noise and the tension melted away. He was head of the pack guards, my mate, and the one person who’d never cared that I was wolfless. With him, I wasn’t defined by what I lacked, but by what I endured.

I blinked back the tears threatening to spill. An Alpha couldn’t cry. Not in front of her people. Not now.

My father’s voice rang out again, sharp and final.

“She has made us proud, and today she will make history. Her name is… Jedidiah Aaro. Come to the throne, my daughter.”

The hall froze. The cheering died mid-echo, collapsing into an eerie silence.

For a heartbeat, I thought I’d misheard. Surely my name was supposed to fall from his lips, not hers. Surely this wasn’t real. My ears rang, the ground seemed to tilt, and I struggled to breathe against the crushing weight in my chest.

But then Jedidiah glided forward, hips swaying, a glittering scrap of a dress clinging to her frame, pink stilettos clicking like war drums on marble. Her chin was lifted, her expression triumphant. I stood rooted, numb, as my father lifted my crown—gold forged from the bloodline of Alphas past—and set it on her head.

The applause that followed was brittle, forced, like shattering glass. No warmth. No conviction. Just obedience.

James’ voice was tight beside me. “Abigail… what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice already shaking with rage.

I stormed forward, my fury propelling me, but two guards stepped in, blocking me with crossed spears. Men I had sparred with, men who’d once sworn loyalty to me, now turned their eyes away as if ashamed.

“Alpha Jedidiah does not grant you permission to approach,” one said flatly, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“Alpha?” My laugh was sharp, brittle. “She doesn’t know the first thing about responsibility!”

“Let her through.” James’ order cut the air. The guards hesitated, then parted reluctantly. I strode up, my heartbeat loud in my ears—only to meet my father’s cold, unfamiliar stare. His eyes glowed blood-red, his lips curling in a growl as if I were an intruder, not his blood.

“Father,” I began, my voice cracking despite me. “This is a joke, right? She doesn’t deserve—”

“You won’t have a wolf, Abigail,” he interrupted, his tone like ice sliding into my bones. “I will not let someone like you lead. You are not capable.”

“Someone like me?” My voice rose, trembling with rage and grief. “Then why train me? Why make me believe I had a chance?”

“You never had a chance,” he said, voice low and venomous. “You are an abomination. Your sister shifted at eight, had her wolf by ten. You can barely half shift. And you think you can rule?”

The words hit harder than any blade ever could. My chest burned, but I forced a bitter laugh. “Is that all it takes to lead? Fur and fangs? Then perhaps you’ve forgotten what leadership means.”

I didn’t wait for his answer. My body moved before my mind caught up, turning on my heel as my vision blurred with unshed tears. James reached for me, his voice desperate, but I brushed past him, catching the triumphant curl of Luna Jessica’s lips as I fled. She had orchestrated this. She had whispered poison into my father’s ear until his heart turned against me.

By the time I reached my room, the tears broke free. They came hot and unending, each one carving deeper into the weight already crushing my chest. I clawed at the ties of my ceremonial cloak, ripping it from my shoulders, the embroidered lions snarling as if mocking me. The fabric fell to the ground, and I collapsed beside it, choking on the sobs I’d tried to hold back.

Years of sacrifice—gone in a single breath. My future, stolen. My father’s love, a lie. My crown, resting on the head of someone who had never wanted it.

But beneath the grief, something darker stirred. Rage. Not the kind that burned fast and bright, but the kind that smoldered deep, slow, and consuming. They thought this was the end of me. They thought I would accept exile into the shadows, broken and discarded.

They were wrong.

I had survived without a wolf. I could survive without a father’s approval.

And if the Lionheart Pack didn’t want me as their Alpha… I would make them regret the day they turned me away.