A Wedding Without You, Alpha

Alice’s POV I shut my bedroom door with care, easing it closed until the latch clicked softly into place. The house had slipped into an uneasy quiet after the earlier frenzy. The air still carried the remnants of heat-driven wolves who had danced themselves breathless, the sharp scent of spilt alcohol, and the lingering smoke from moonlit ritual candles — all of it drifting faintly even up to the second floor. I walked to the small side table, lifted a vinyl record, and placed it gently onto the turntable. A soft scratch cut through the silence, then the mellow rise of strings and hollow wind instruments poured through the room, swallowing what faint traces of noise still drifted upward from below. This was my ritual for surviving nights in Hawthorn Pack territory: a locked door, a barrier of music, and the effort of pretending the world outside didn’t exist. Now that I’d agreed to return to Plum Blossom and accept the marriage my parents arranged, I understood that leaving Hawthorn meant giving up my position. Being Alpha Kael’s war tactician had been the price I paid to remain here — my mind and claws in exchange for shelter. But abandoning my duties without settling everything? That wasn’t something I could bring myself to do. Even if I no longer intended to stay, I wouldn’t leave chaos behind. So I sat by the window as the day faded, watching the packhouses below light up one after another, and I began sorting through the work I needed to finish. The pile of documents was thick: patrol schedules, border exchange logs, feeding routes, conflict reports. Tedious things, the kind no one ever noticed when they ran smoothly — yet became disasters the moment someone neglected them. Hours slipped by. When I finally removed the vinyl from the turntable and pushed myself upright, my spine let out a satisfying crack. The house below had gone silent. The party was over. The drunken shouts and laughter had faded into stillness. For the first time that night, I truly allowed my shoulders to drop. Leaning back on my bed, I picked up my phone and started scrolling absentmindedly, letting the quiet settle deep into my bones. Then, unexpectedly… Tessa’s name popped onto my screen. I tensed. My thumb hovered for a heartbeat before I opened the message. “Why didn’t you react to my latest posts?” I stared blankly at it. A moment later came another: “Sorry, Alli… I didn’t mean to send that. Please don’t be upset.” A soft, humorless breath escaped me. Too transparent. Still, curiosity tugged, and I tapped her profile to see what had her so desperate for my attention. There it was — her birthday haul, photographed artfully on her dresser. The jewelry glittered under warm light: a rare moon crystal from the Moon Forest, said to emit a glow only under a true full moon. Beside it lay a pristine enchanted bow, strung with actual moonstone beads that pulsed faintly with protective enchantments. There were stacks of luxurious furs as well — clearly the result of Weston’s relentless hunting, now shaped into coats soft enough to make any she-wolf sigh. And in the center was Tessa herself, framed between Rylan and Weston, her arms looped comfortably through theirs, as if she’d always belonged in that spot. Her caption gleamed with her signature saccharine charm: “Feeling like a Luna today!” I stared at the photo for a long, slow moment. So that was it. That was what she wanted me to see — what she wanted me to feel. Once, that would’ve pierced straight into the softest parts of me. I would have felt jealousy like claws raking through my chest, convinced that I’d somehow failed to deserve what I thought was meant for me. But now? There was no ache. No longing. No sting. Just stillness. I tapped the heart icon. The tiny red glow beneath the photo was my quiet declaration: I’m done. I release everything. They could choose her. In truth, they already had. The next morning, I stepped into my office with steady hands and slipped a folded letter of resignation into the top drawer of my desk. No dramatic announcement. No emotional plea. When I walked out of the Alpha’s wing, I felt unexpectedly weightless. Back home, I began to pack. I started with the boxes shoved deep inside my closet — the ones holding pieces of my history with Rylan and Weston. Photos of the three of us as children, grinning at the territorial border with mud streaked across our faces. Pictures from adolescent years: us on horseback after winning tournaments, me clutching the flowers they gave. Snapshots from our university breaks — all three traveling together, me asleep on Weston’s shoulder while Rylan captured the moment with a teasing smile. There were gifts as well — necklaces, old novels, scrapbooks they’d meticulously created. The memories were clear and sharp… but they no longer had the power to anchor me. One by one, I carried the items to the fireplace. Flames swallowed them eagerly. The golden letters on birthday cards shimmered once before curling into ash. I didn’t flinch when footsteps approached from behind. Rylan’s voice cut sharply through the crackling fire, trembling with anger. “Alli. What the hell are you doing?” I turned slightly, glancing at them from over my shoulder. Both were there. Rylan with clenched fists and a storm brewing behind his eyes. Weston with disbelief carved into every line of his face. “Nothing,” I said calmly. “They were starting to rot. Burning them seemed easier.” Weston lunged forward, reaching for the stack still in my hand. I flicked my wrist, sending the remaining photos fluttering straight into the flames. The fire surged, devouring everything. “No—!” Weston’s fingers shot toward a burning edge, but the heat forced him to recoil, hissing as his skin reddened. He stared at me, his voice cracking in disbelief. “Mold or not, you didn’t have to destroy them! Those were our memories, Alli!” I finally looked him dead in the eyes. And for a moment, I almost laughed — not out of joy, but because of the twisted irony. Here I was: the living, breathing wolf who had stood beside them through every hardship, who had bled for them and loved them in silence… and they had chosen again and again to wound me for the sake of someone as manipulative as Tessa. Yet now, with nothing but old paper and trinkets going up in flames, they were the ones breaking. How poetic. Rylan said nothing, but his eyes remained locked on the ashes, tension pulling at the corners of his jaw. I turned back to the fire, a faint, sharp-edged smile tugging at my lips. I wondered what expression they’d wear… when they learned the truth. That I had chosen to leave Hawthorn. To return to Plum Blossom. To marry another wolf entirely. What would they do then?

Alice’s POV I remained rooted in front of the fireplace, watching the last corners of the photographs twist inward, blister, and finally crumble into soot. Neither Rylan nor Weston took a single step. Both stood a short distance away, rigid and coiled like wolves on the edge of a fight, their eyes fixed on me as though they wanted to shake an explanation out of my mouth—demand the reason, force the truth. Instead, I gave them a small, almost lazy smile, barely a curve of my lips, letting ashes drift and settle like dull snowflakes. “They’re only pictures,” I remarked with a lightness that didn’t match the moment, almost playful. “And the gifts were old anyway. We can always make new ones. You two can even surprise me with better presents next time.” They stared at me, momentarily thrown off. I tilted my head, my voice warm and casual. “It’s been ages since we took a real trip together, hasn’t it? Now we’ve finally cleared the clutter—seems like the perfect excuse to go somewhere and create new memories.” Rylan seized onto the idea like a lifeline, his expression gentling as he approached me. “You’re right,” he agreed, sounding steadier. “We should get away for a while. Maybe travel someplace far… just us.” Weston let out a long exhale, like he’d been bracing himself for a blow. “Yeah,” he echoed. “That actually sounds perfect. A break would do all of us good. And this time…” He paused, hesitating only a fraction of a second before adding, “We should bring Tessa too. She’s never had the chance to go on a real vacation—everything her family went through… well, she deserves it.” For an instant, my chest tightened painfully. I let out a soft, sharp-edged laugh—brittle, the kind that cracks rather than rings. They didn’t hear the bitterness laced through it. To them, it must have sounded like agreement, or worse, approval. Both of them immediately eased, shoulders lowering as if my forced smile had absolved them of everything. Rylan even shot me a relieved half-grin. Weston scrubbed a hand through his hair and murmured, “I hate it when you’re upset with us.” They walked farther into the room, the tension they’d carried evaporating like steam—only to halt abruptly. Their eyes had found the suitcases lined neatly by the wall, packed tight and ready, arranged with deliberate precision. Those bags hadn’t been there earlier. “What’s all that?” they demanded at once. I followed their gaze briefly before answering, keeping my tone breezy, unaffected. “Oh, those? I resigned from your father’s strategist team. I’m taking a different path now—trying something completely new.” The words fell heavily despite my casual delivery. Rylan’s brow creased deeply while Weston’s mouth parted in shock. I could see the question forming in their eyes. They knew I loved that role. Everyone did. I had dedicated myself to it fully. So why walk away now? Their gazes flicked to each other—uneasy, unsettled—like wolves who had caught the faintest scent of blood but couldn’t yet locate the wound. Weston inhaled, ready to interrogate me, but before he could speak, Rylan’s phone vibrated sharply against his leg. He answered with quick fingers. The moment Tessa’s trembling voice spilled through the speaker, I already knew what would follow. “Ry… something’s wrong. My wolf won’t respond to me… I-I’m terrified. What do I do?” I didn’t look at them, but I heard Weston’s breath hitch. He didn’t even wait for Rylan to reply. In an instant, he burst into his wolf form—muscles shifting, bones cracking, fur tearing through skin. His growl rumbled low before he barked: “Hold on, Tessa! I’m heading to you right this second!” Rylan hesitated for a heartbeat, eyes flicking toward me with guilt—or maybe conflict—but the pause was short-lived. Then he shifted too, golden fur igniting in the glow of the dying fire. Without another word, they both darted out the door, leaving behind little more than fading pawprints and the lingering scent of their wolves. Neither bothered to look back. I stood there long after the sound of their departure faded, motionless, staring at the empty doorway. So when my phone rang, I already knew who would be on the other end. I pressed it to my ear. “Alice,” came Alpha Kael’s deep, steady voice. “Your letter was waiting on my desk.” Closing my eyes, I sank onto the arm of the couch, letting the silence between us breathe for a moment. “You’ve served this pack well,” he continued. “Protected us. Helped keep us alive. And you never once asked for more than what you absolutely needed. So tell me… what changed? Why step down now?” I inhaled slowly, choosing my words with care. “It’s time, Alpha,” I said quietly. “Time for me to stop avoiding my past… and return to it. Back to Plum Blossom Pack. Back to what I owe.” I didn’t mention the arranged marriage. Not yet. “You’re truly leaving?” His voice carried a weight that made him sound older. “So soon? Have Rylan and Weston been told?” “They haven’t,” I admitted. “And I’d appreciate it if you could keep it between us for the moment. I don’t want unnecessary complications.” He let out a long, weary sigh, thick with resignation. “Alice… you know those two are hopeless when it comes to you. Everyone assumed you’d end up with one of them eventually.” I gave a soft smile, though it held no warmth. “There’s nothing tragic about it, Alpha. I am who I am. I’ve always known what that means. No Alpha would genuinely choose someone like me to stand beside him. And as for my mate…” My voice faded. That dream had died so long ago it no longer even felt like loss. He didn’t try to convince me otherwise. “Come see me before you depart,” he said at last. “It may be a long time before our paths cross again.” “I’ll be there,” I promised. Right before the call ended, he added, “You’ve earned more than respect here. A token of gratitude will be delivered to you today. Don’t reject it.” A faint smile touched my lips. “I won’t.” Later that afternoon, when someone knocked at my door, I expected a messenger or courier from the pack. But when I opened it… Tessa stood there, clutching the award meant for me.

Alice’s POV When I opened the door, moonlight spilled across the porch, catching the delicate crystal in Tessa’s hands and making it gleam like frozen starlight. It was stunning—almost unbearably beautiful. The award shimmered as though it had trapped the moon itself, carved into the elegant silhouette of a hawthorn tree. Its branches appeared to sway faintly under the gentle glow, and at the base, my name was etched with flawless precision. The faint magic sealed into the crystal flickered softly like distant stars. I knew exactly how much it had cost the pack to commission something of this caliber. And yet… not a single word of congratulations crossed Tessa’s lips. She stood there, biting her lower lip, her usual wide-eyed innocence betraying vulnerability, as though climbing the porch steps had exhausted her. The picture of delicacy, fragile and perfect. “Alli,” she said quietly, almost hesitant, “Alpha Kael asked me to deliver this. You… you’re incredible. To earn something so rare and beautiful.” Her eyes flickered to the crystal as if it were already hers, then returned to mine, feigning a modest shyness. “I…” she faltered, shifting from foot to foot, clutching the award closer to her chest. “I have a tiny favor. I’ve never seen anything like this before, and you know how much I… love beautiful things. Could I… maybe borrow it for a few days? Just to keep me motivated? I mean…” Her laugh was weak, forced. “…maybe someday I could even become Alpha Kael’s strategist in your place?” She looked up at me through her lashes, hopeful. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but… please. Just think about it? I really want to feel inspired.” For a heartbeat, I didn’t know how to respond. The audacity of her words left me momentarily speechless. Then a faint smile curved my lips—not kind, not warm, but cold and cutting. “You do realize how bold that is, don’t you?” I said, voice low and sharp. “Don’t ask. If you want one, earn it on your own.” My gaze swept over her small frame, trembling hands clutching the crystal. “But let’s be honest—you don’t have my skill, do you?” Her face flushed instantly, pale skin blooming into pink embarrassment, yet she didn’t release the crystal. Instead, she tightened her grip, whispering, “Why are you saying that like it’s wrong? I wasn’t going to keep it forever… just for a few days. Are you really so selfish you won’t even lend it to me? Am I asking too much?” I said nothing. My hand extended just enough to convey my intent. Give it back. But she refused. Her fingers clung to the award, lip trembling. I tightened my grip on the base of the hawthorn tree, pulling it toward me. “Hand it over!” I snapped, frustration flaring. “Why can’t you just lend it?!” she protested, desperation in her voice. The fragile crystal wobbled, slipped between our hands, and time seemed to pause. It spun once, twice—and shattered against the hardwood floor. Fragments scattered like fallen stars, moonlight caught in jagged edges before fading to dull glass. Tessa gasped sharply, dropping to her knees, hands clutching at her shin as though the shards had wounded her. The gate slammed open. Rylan and Weston entered, the scent of wolf fur and the crisp night air clinging to them. The instant their eyes found Tessa—kneeling, blood staining her pale leg, broken crystal littering the floor—they surged forward. “Tessa!” they shouted together, collapsing to her side. Rylan’s hands shook as he lifted her skirt to examine the cut, jaw tightening at the sight of the shallow wound. “You’re bleeding,” he murmured, voice taut with concern. “We need to get you patched up immediately.” “No, I—” she started weakly, but Rylan scooped her into his arms anyway, eyes dark with worry. Weston stayed just long enough to spin on me, fury radiating from him like heat. “Alli,” he growled, fangs gleaming, “you have everything already! Why do you have to hurt her too?!” I froze for a heartbeat before letting a bitter laugh escape. “That was mine,” I said, voice cold and precise. “I earned it, worked for years to get it. My name is on it. She held it, and now it’s shattered—and you think I’m at fault?” I jabbed a finger toward the broken shards, each glinting in the moonlight. “She owes me an apology.” But Weston’s fury only intensified. “It’s just a statue!” he shouted. “You can win or buy a hundred more! How does that compare to her getting hurt?!” He jabbed a finger at me, wolf barely restrained beneath the surface of his skin. “You need to apologize to her!” Without waiting for a word, he shifted—his dark gray wolf tearing free of human form—and bolted out, racing to join Rylan and Tessa. The house sank into silence again. I stayed motionless, staring at the glimmering shards at my feet. Weston’s voice lingered in my mind: I should apologize. A bitter, dry laugh slipped past my lips. Then the pain hit me. Looking down, I saw a deep gash along my own shin, blood spilling freely past my ankle—worse than Tessa’s cut. I bit my lip, swallowed the sting, crouched, and began picking up the shards one by one. No one offered a hand. No one even noticed. When I finished, I cleaned the wound, wrapped it carefully, and sank onto the couch, silent. Later that night, my phone buzzed. It was my mother, her inbox flooded with dozens of pictures of wedding rings. “Choose whichever you like, my sweet moonflower,” she wrote. I scrolled through them absently, then called her. Her warm voice greeted me, though after a moment, she hesitated. “Alice,” she said softly, “is everything alright? You sound… tired.” I blinked against the tears threatening to fall. “I’m fine,” I lied, voice calm and even. “I’ll be done here in four days. How’s the wedding planning going?” The words felt strange leaving my mouth, but I said them anyway. I didn’t notice them arrive—but I heard the front door click a moment later. Rylan and Weston’s scents hit me: wild, unmistakable, familiar. They froze as my last words lingered in the air. From the corner of my eye, I saw their expressions harden. Eyes narrowed, claws ready, each glance snapping toward me and then toward the other. They spoke at once, low and dangerous: “Wedding? What wedding?”