I Lost Everything, but My Alpha Shows Me the Way

Watching the two of them together made bile rise in my throat. The way Ronan hovered over Lilith—gentle, attentive, protective—was unbearable, especially knowing he hadn’t spared even a glance for his own son in years. That contrast alone was enough to ignite a fury so intense my hands trembled. “So this is it,” I said, my voice shaking despite my effort to stay composed. “You’ve wanted me gone for a long time, haven’t you? Fine. Consider it done. I’m leaving. We’re finished.” He had never wanted me as his mate. Our bond existed only because our packs were allies and tradition demanded it. He complied out of duty, not desire. To him, I was a responsibility imposed by custom, nothing more. He never acknowledged my presence, never recognized my wolf, never nurtured our bond. Over time, that neglect weakened me. My connection to my wolf had deteriorated so badly that it felt like it was slipping away entirely—so fragile that only the Moonstone might be able to repair it. The Moonstone was no ordinary relic. It was a sacred heirloom passed down through generations to the eldest child of our bloodline, and it had been entrusted to me. I had always known of its power, yet I had never dared to use it. Power came with consequences, and I was afraid—afraid of what it would demand of me, afraid of whether I was worthy of wielding it, even if it meant restoring my broken bond with my wolf. Ronan, as always, misunderstood me completely. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a jealous woman grasping for his attention. He sneered, his tone sharp with disdain. “Really?” he scoffed. “Is this your new way of trying to get me to notice you? You can’t use your son to pressure me anymore, so now you’re putting yourself on display instead?” A year ago, Tavian’s health had begun to fail. He grew pale, his appetite vanished, and even the pack healer was at a loss. Dark veins surfaced beneath his skin, as if his blood itself were changing. He collapsed without warning, again and again. Despite our kind’s remarkable healing abilities, he couldn’t even recover from something as simple as a headache. During those desperate months, I mind-linked Ronan countless times, begging him to come home—if not for me, then for the son who yearned for his father. But Ronan never showed up. He was convinced I was using Tavian’s illness to manipulate him, to trap him with guilt and sympathy. After nearly ten years together, this was all he thought of me. I brushed away my tears, my voice steady despite the pain clawing at my chest. “Believe whatever you want. I’m still leaving.” I turned and began pulling my luggage toward the door when Lilith suddenly spoke, her voice carefully laced with concern. “Alpha, didn’t you say you were going to celebrate Tavian’s birthday as a family?” she asked softly. “You didn’t cancel that just to go to the mountains with me, did you? Lyra looks really upset…” Ronan responded without hesitation, his tone reassuring. “Don’t worry about it. I know what matters most. Birthdays can be celebrated anytime. But once the snow melts, the view won’t be the same.” At those words, a bitter laugh escaped me. I said nothing as I continued dragging my suitcase across the floor. Something in my silence must have unsettled him, because Ronan suddenly rushed forward and grabbed my wrist, irritation flashing across his face. “It’s the middle of the night,” he snapped. “Are you seriously choosing now to leave?” Then he noticed my swollen eyes and hesitated. His voice softened slightly. “Is missing one celebration really worth crying like this?” My eyes burned from hours of tears, and for the briefest moment, I thought I saw a flicker of pity in his gaze. “I’ll rearrange my schedule next month,” he added. “I’ll take Tavian then. That should be enough, right?” Next month. What next month was left for Tavian? If he had cared even a little more, he would never have said something so thoughtless. I yanked my hand free. “There’s no need,” I said coldly. He stared at his empty palm, clearly stunned. The woman who once clung to him, who endured everything in silence, was now pulling away as if he were poison. He snapped out of it and took a step after me—only for Lilith to grab his arm. “Alpha, this is my fault,” she said quickly, tears welling in her eyes. “Even though I knew Tavian was only pretending to be sick, I shouldn’t have tried to compete with a child for your attention. Now Lyra is angry because of me.” Pretending? Faking his illness? My thoughts went blank. The world seemed to tilt. By the time reality rushed back in, my hand had already moved—striking my sister across the face with a sharp, resounding slap.

The brief trace of guilt on the Alpha’s face vanished in an instant, replaced by an icy rage that sent a chill through the room. He stepped forward without hesitation, placing Lilith firmly behind him as if shielding her from harm. His eyes hardened as they locked onto me. “Have you lost your mind?” he snapped. “That’s your own sister!” I didn’t rise to his anger. My attention never left Lilith. My gaze sharpened, unyielding. “Choose your words carefully,” I said coldly. “Blood ties don’t give you the right to insult my child.” Lilith’s eyes shimmered as she turned to Ronan, her voice quivering as though she were the injured party. “Alpha, please,” she whispered, clutching his arm. “I never meant to cause trouble between the two of you. If my sister refuses to accept that Tavian was only pretending to be ill, then I won’t press the issue.” My chest tightened painfully as I faced Ronan, my voice low but steady, carried by every ounce of resolve I had left. “So you believe that too?” I asked. “You truly think our son was faking his suffering?” He didn’t answer. The silence that followed was louder than any accusation. Ronan’s eyes drifted around the room, scanning the empty spaces, as if expecting Tavian to step out at any moment, healthy and smiling. When he finally spoke, his tone was strained, irritation barely concealed beneath forced calm. “Where is Tavian?” he demanded. “I can’t sense him anywhere.” The doubt in his words cut deeper than a blade. He didn’t even trust that our child had been sick all this time. If I had possessed his authority or power, I would have summoned every renowned healer across the lands. But as Luna, my hands were tied—confined by pack rules and by an Alpha who refused to acknowledge me or my pleas. Had he come home even once, he would have seen the truth for himself: the table cluttered with herbs and remedies, the stench of medicine lingering in the air, and Tavian lying pale and exhausted, fighting a battle his small body was losing. But Ronan never came. Not once. My thoughts drifted back to the day Tavian had looked at me with eyes far too old for his age and told me he didn’t think he had much time left. His voice had been weak, trembling, yet disturbingly certain. I had clung desperately to hope, but deep down, I knew he was right. His health had declined too quickly, too severely. And still, his final wish hadn’t been about healing or miracles—he only wanted us to celebrate his birthday together, as a family. That desperation had driven me to Ronan’s feet. I remembered kneeling before him, pride utterly stripped away. My hands had clutched the fabric of his pants as I begged, my voice breaking with every word. I promised him that this would be the last time I ever asked anything of him. I told him I would let him go, that I would step aside and free him if only he would give Tavian this one night. When he looked down at me then, his expression had shifted—surprise flickering across his face, mixed with something I couldn’t quite understand. “Are you serious?” he asked, his voice wavering between disbelief and something dangerously close to relief. “Yes,” I whispered, tears sliding down my cheeks as my eyes closed. “I mean it.” I had loved Ronan fiercely from the very first moment I saw him. It hadn’t taken time or reason—it had been instant. Everyone around us could see it. Even before I learned we were destined mates, my heart had already chosen him. I followed him everywhere, sought his attention, did everything I could to earn even a fragment of his affection. Instead of softening him, my devotion only deepened his resentment. That resentment reached its breaking point during his coming-of-age ceremony, when fate revealed that I—not Lilith—was his true mate. The revelation filled him with bitterness. He had wanted her. He had always wanted her. Why hadn’t I stepped aside then? Why hadn’t I let him go and allowed them to be together? I had been foolish enough to believe that time and loyalty might change his heart. Because of my stubborn hope, he had watched Lilith leave for another pack after discovering her own fated mate. My parents had been firm. Fate was not something to be rejected, they said. Walking away from a destined bond was unthinkable. And so, Ronan was forced into a mating with me, and I became his Luna in name alone. There had been no joy in our mating ceremony. No celebration. Ronan had dismissed the idea entirely, claiming that I wasn’t worthy of anything grand. Years later, when Lilith returned and claimed her mate had died, I finally understood how pointless it was to compete with her. I had lost before the battle ever began. Looking back now, I realized that my final plea—my promise to leave him alone after all those years—had been what finally convinced him to agree. He wanted me gone. Desperately. But why hadn’t he spent even one last moment with Tavian? Why had he broken that promise? It was one thing for him not to love me. I had long accepted that truth. But Tavian was his son. Flesh of his flesh. How could he be so cruel… so utterly heartless toward his own child?

I stared at Ronan, a heavy, gnawing disappointment settling deep in my chest. Once upon a time, I had admired every line of his face, convinced that the Moon itself had carved him with care. Back then, I thought his features were breathtaking. Now, looking at him only made my stomach turn. Whatever love I once held had curdled into revulsion. Ronan opened his mouth as if to speak, but Lilith cut in before he could say a word. Her voice trembled with exaggerated fragility. “Alpha… my head feels light again,” she murmured. “And my face is throbbing. Could you check if it’s swollen?” Ronan’s attention shifted to her instantly, concern flashing across his face without hesitation. Taking advantage of that reaction, Lilith sagged dramatically against him, letting out a soft sigh as though she could barely stand. The red imprint of my hand stood out clearly on her pale cheek, a visible reminder of the anger she had provoked. Her eyes quickly filled with tears. Ronan reached up, gently wiping them away, his movements careful and familiar. Watching him do that sent a sharp ache through my chest. There had been a time when he treated me the same way—when he would steady me if I stumbled, when his voice softened just for me. Those moments felt like they belonged to another lifetime. His expression shifted abruptly. The warmth drained from his eyes, replaced by something cold and unfeeling. “Lyra,” he said flatly, “apologize to your sister.” I straightened my back and lifted my chin, meeting his gaze without flinching. “No,” I replied simply. My refusal clearly caught him off guard. In the past, whenever his disdain was directed at me, I had tread carefully around him, desperate to earn even a sliver of his approval. No matter how sincere my affection had been, it was never enough. Lilith’s shadow always loomed larger. In hindsight, her hostility toward me had never been subtle. Even as children, she resented me for being more capable, more trusted. That bitterness only deepened when the Moonstone—an heirloom she coveted—was passed down to me instead of her. When she noticed my growing feelings for Alpha Ronan, she began to show interest in him as well, as if it were a competition she couldn’t bear to lose. Still, I never imagined she would return to Kairo after her fated mate’s death and tear my life apart all over again. Ronan’s surprise lasted only a moment. He leaned back against the couch, still holding Lilith close, and spoke in a voice edged with warning. “Lyra, don’t push me further.” Moments later, the wolf guards—summoned through his mind link—appeared and blocked my path. They grabbed my arms and forced me back, escorting me to stand before Ronan and Lilith once more. Their presence was rigid, imposing, and utterly devoid of sympathy. Ronan reclined casually, as if the tension in the room didn’t exist. His gaze skimmed over me with detached indifference. “Apologize to Lilith,” he repeated. Lilith turned toward him, a faint smile playing on her lips—half victory, half provocation. Her voice softened as she spoke. “It’s alright, Alpha. Lyra didn’t do it on purpose.” Ronan looked at her with pity, his voice almost gentle. “You’re too kind,” he said. “You’ve always treated her well, yet she’s never once regarded you as her sister.” Then his eyes snapped back to me, sharp and unforgiving. “Anyone who harms Lilith will face the consequences.” His intent was unmistakable. He wanted to punish me. With a subtle gesture, he ordered the guards forward. They forced me down, pressing me to my knees. As my head lowered, I caught the faint curve of satisfaction on Ronan’s lips. One of the guards stepped closer, his hand lifting, poised to strike. Before he could, Lilith intervened. “Alpha,” she said softly, “she’s still my sister. I’m afraid the guards might hurt her too badly. If someone has to discipline her… let it be me.” Ronan gave a short nod of approval. That was when Lilith stepped forward and struck me—once, then again. Her nails scraped my skin, leaving burning welts across my cheek as pain exploded through my face. She turned back to Ronan, her expression conflicted, almost hesitant. “Alpha… I hit Lyra. What should we do now?” His response was chillingly indifferent. “She got what she deserved,” he said coldly. “You’re still worrying about her even after she attacked you first.” The guards finally let go of me. My legs gave out, and I collapsed awkwardly onto the floor. Ronan remained where he was, looking down at me without the slightest hint of remorse. “You owe Lilith an apology,” he said. An apology? It was Lilith who mocked my son. She was the one who accused him of lying. Tavian would never lie. Never. Yet this worthless Alpha chose her side every single time, no matter how cruel or unjust the situation was. I lifted my head and glared at him, my voice thick with rage and bitterness. “Keep dreaming.” “I despise you, Alpha!” I screamed.

When I looked at Alpha Ronan, there was nothing left in my eyes that resembled love. Whatever warmth had once lived there had long since burned away, leaving behind only a bitter, consuming hatred. He noticed it immediately. His brows drew together, a flicker of unease crossing his face as if my gaze unsettled him. “Lyra,” he said after a moment, forcing his voice into something that resembled patience, “just listen for once. Do what I’m asking, and I’ll give you whatever you want. We can still hold that birthday celebration for your son—exactly the way you wanted it.” The words rang empty in my ears, hollow and cruel. A celebration—for what? Tavian was gone. There was nothing left to celebrate. My mate had already made his priorities painfully clear long before that night, choosing Lilith over his own child again and again. Everyone in the pack knew it. At feasts, ceremonies, and public gatherings, Ronan was always at my sister’s side, while I stood alone, humiliated in my role as Luna of Kairo. Now that Tavian was dead, he dared to dangle the promise of a “celebration” in front of me, as if it could erase everything he had done. It was nothing more than a manipulative ploy—an attempt to pull me back under his control by exploiting my grief. The thought made my stomach twist. I forced my expression into calm and met his gaze without blinking. “There’s no need,” I said evenly. “This is over. I’m leaving this place—just like you’ve always wanted. Go live out your perfect fantasy with Lilith.” It was clear he hadn’t expected that. His lips curled into a sneer, disbelief written plainly across his face. “What’s this now?” he scoffed. “You’re not going to cling to me anymore? Not going to beg me to spend time with your son?” The contempt in his voice was unmistakable. Before I could respond, Lilith stepped in, her tone soft and falsely concerned. “Lyra, don’t lie to the Alpha,” she said gently. “If Tavian were truly dying, why would you be standing here alone?” Something inside me snapped. “Enough,” I snapped back. “Keep my son’s name out of your mouth. You don’t get to talk about him.” Her expression shifted, wounded on the surface, though I could see the satisfaction beneath it. “Fine,” she said quietly. “I won’t bring him up again. Please don’t be angry with me, Lyra.” Ronan’s annoyance deepened as he watched my reaction to Lilith. A cold laugh escaped him as he reached for his phone and placed a call. He deliberately put it on speaker, making sure I couldn’t miss a single word. “Beta Oliver,” he said curtly, “locate my son immediately. Bring him to me.” He shot me a smug look, clearly convinced that this would somehow reassert his authority and expose my supposed lie. I let out a slow, bitter smile, the weight of everything pressing down on my chest. After a brief pause, Beta Oliver’s voice came through the speaker, hesitant and heavy. “Alpha… Tavian passed away several days ago. It happened the day after you left the territory with Lilith.”