The Unchosen Alpha, the Self-Crowned Queen Chapter 02

The Unchosen Alpha, the Self-Crowned Queen Chapter 02

Let down. That words from her mouth hit harder than any threat ever could.

I’d shifted at twelve. Taken first place in three werewolf combat trials by fifteen. Every time I collapsed over my desk crying, Lyanna would just say through the door—“An Alpha heir can’t let the Pack down.”

So I busted my ass to never let them down.

“Mom. I trained as a warrior for seventeen years. And you’re telling me the final exam was cooking?”

Lyanna didn’t flinch.

“Who said it wasn’t fair? Nerys worked her butt off too. She spent five years perfecting those recipes—that takes real skill.”

“Your strengths are different. Social skills, negotiation, combat… As a Luna, that stuff matters way more than cooking. I’m trying to give you a compliment here. Can’t you see that?”

The door pushed open. Nerys walked in carrying a bowl of Moonberry Stew. She wore a cream-colored knit dress, hair loosely tied back like she’d just stepped out of the kitchen.

“Don’t fight with Mom, Maeve.”

She set the bowl in front of me, spoon placed neatly on the rim, handle pointed my way.

“I was surprised too, you know. Honestly? I didn’t even want the whole Alpha thing. If you really hate the marriage that much, I could talk to Grandmother for you. Maybe she’ll change her mind.”

Smooth. Flawless.

But the bracelet on her wrist—the moonstone one Grandmother had passed down—that was only ever given to the Alpha of Blackwood Pack. Three days ago, she didn’t have it.

“Hey. When did you get that bracelet?”

Nerys glanced down at her wrist, smiling with practiced modesty. “Grandmother gave it to me this afternoon. Said I should start getting used to it.”

Start getting used to it.

So while I still thought I was the heir, she was already going through the transition.

Lyanna saw me staring at that bracelet and jumped in. “Nerys, go check the fire. Let me talk to your sister alone.”

Nerys nodded. But right before she left, she glanced back at me. That look was so warm, so gentle—I almost believed she actually cared.

Then she said, “Maeve, if the marriage ever makes you unhappy, just come back to Blackwood Pack. I’ll take care of you.”

She was offering me charity. The smug pity of a victor.

The moment the door clicked shut, Lyanna’s face went cold.

“Look at your sister—so put together. And then there’s you, having a meltdown. People would kill for a match like this, and you’re throwing it away?”

“Maeve, I need you to think long and hard about this. Because if you walk away from this family? Don’t expect to have a place to come back to.”

I gripped that document so hard my knuckles went white.

Seventeen years. Seventeen years of warrior training wasn’t to make me the Alpha of Blackwood Pack. It was to turn me into the most perfect Luna in werewolf territory—and deliver me to some other Alpha.

“I’ll think about it.”

The words came out flat.

Lyanna’s brow finally relaxed a fraction.

“That’s my girl.”

She patted my shoulder. Like she was adjusting a knickknack that had finally been put back in place.