Chapter 3 Broken By My Alpha

Chapter Three: Broken By My Alpha

Liora Vale

The morning after the announcement, the sky broke open and wept.

Not gentle tears. Not cleansing.

It was a cold, angry rain soaking the earth in silence, pressing down like a punishment.

Even the wolves didn't speak too loudly.

Some wounds, it seemed, the rain couldn't wash away. It only buried them deeper.

I stood beneath the awning of the healer's hut, cloak damp and heavy, arms crossed over my chest. Across the courtyard, Vanya Spike laughed, soft and pretty, at something Gonzalo whispered. Her fingers grazed his arm in a familiar way, the same way I once did.

She tilted her head toward him like he was gravity itself.

Like she'd stop breathing if he ever let go.

"You shouldn't watch them," Nyssa murmured at my side.

"I need to."

My voice cracked, just a little.

"I need to see how far I've fallen."

"You didn't fall," she said, steel beneath her softness. "He just dragged you down slow enough, you thought you were flying."

My fingers clenched around my arms until I felt the throb of skin bruising beneath pressure.

"He said he loved me."

Nyssa smiled softly. "He said a lot of things."

***

The days that followed blurred into cruel theater.

Strategy meetings. Public rituals. Pack feasts where the meat passed from hand to hand like communion, and the air was thick with smoke and lies.

He paraded her through it all, like a new crown, polished and glinting in the firelight.

Like I had never been by his side. Never slept in his arms. Never whispered my devotion into the crook of his neck.

I wasn't just discarded.

I was forgotten.

No...worse. I was pitied.

The wolves who once bowed now only whispered. I became a cautionary tale. A mistake dressed in loyalty. A blade dulled from misuse.

I didn't show them rage.

But I could feel something inside me shifting. Not breaking.

Sharpening.

Every stolen glance, every smirk on Gonzalo's face, every whisper dressed in sympathy were whetstones against my bones.

And I was being honed.

***

The first time I saw them walk hand in hand to the central fire. Vanya draped in white fur, Gonzalo in his ceremonial leathers, my wolf didn't mourn.

It howled.

Not in sorrow.

In hunger.

***

Two nights later, Adrian found me by the outer watchfires.

His shoulders were stiff under his cloak, jaw clenched tight like he'd chewed on too many regrets.

"He shouldn't have done it like that," he said quietly.

I didn't look at him. "Why are you here, Adrian?"

"Because I know you," he replied. "And I know what you're capable of."

"Then you should be afraid."

"I am," he said. "That's why I'm warning you...he's watching you now."

"Let him."

"He sees you as a threat."

"He always did," I murmured. "He just enjoyed pretending I was his."

He looked away, guilt drawn deep into the corners of his mouth.

"Whatever you're thinking, don't act on it."

I turned to him, my voice like frost.

"Don't worry. I won't make the first move."

***

But Gonzalo did.

The banishment came during a full gathering. The fire was tall, clawing at the bruised sky. Wolves circled the flame in reverence, their eyes reflecting the blaze. I knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth.

He stood tall. Radiant. A shadow wearing light.

Vanya stood beside him, unreadable. Perfect.

"There are those among us," Gonzalo said, his voice calm and cutting, "who sow unrest. Who speak in shadows, who question loyalty."

Then his eyes met mine.

"Liora," he said. "You are hereby banished from the Bloodfang lands. You no longer bear my mark. You are no longer protected."

The silence hit like a slap.

The crowd gasped, a ripple of breathless disbelief.

Two enforcers stepped forward. I saw their hesitation, but their orders were clear.

I wanted to cry, but I didn't.

I felt like begging him one more time, but I didn't.

I looked him in the eye and said, "You'll regret this."

He smirked, slow and cruel.

"I already do. But not for the reason you think."

Then he turned his back to me.

That...that was the final blow. Not the words. Not the exile.

The turning.

I walked out with my spine tall, my jaw locked, and my heart transformed.

Not shattered.

Forged.

***

Nyssa met me at the border. She looked like she'd been running.

"You don't have to go," she said breathlessly. "We could hide you. Some of the others..."

"No."

My voice was ice. Calm. Final.

"He wants me gone. I will leave."

She swallowed. "What will you do now?"

I looked to the woods, dark, vast, unknown.

"What I should've done a long time ago."

I stepped across the border, and felt it snap.

The bond severed.

Like a thousand hooks ripped free from my chest.

I gasped once, hand to my ribs. But I didn't look back.

***

I wandered for three days.

Through wild, ash thick forests. Through valleys where no voices lived. The moon watched me, cold and distant. My wolf ached to run, to tear, to lash out.

But I didn't let her.

I made her feel every stone underfoot. Every thorn. Every hollow, gnawing hunger.

The world beyond Bloodfang was harsh. But at least it was honest.

No lies here.

No crowns.

No cages.

On the third night, I found a glade untouched by scent or memory. I built a fire with trembling hands. The flame rose slowly, stubborn and small.

It was the only light for miles.

Nyssa found me again. Hood drawn. Voice low.

"I shouldn't be here. He'll know."

"Then don't stay long."

She handed me a leather pouch...roots, herbs, a blade.

A tether to the world I once called home.

"If you're going to survive out here, you need more than anger."

I took it. "I have more."

"Do you?"

I nodded once. "Yes."

She studied me for a long time. "He shouldn't have banished you."

I stared into the flame.

"He made a mistake. And he won't survive it."

She exhaled. "Do what you must. But don't become him."

I met her eyes.

"No. I'll become worse."

***

When she left, I stood alone beneath the high, pitiless moon.

I let my hair fall.

Let the wind tangle it.

I didn't pray.

I didn't hope.

I only whispered:

"You took everything. My place. My name. My future."

The trees didn't answer.

Only wind.

Only silence.

Only the stillness before something terrible begins.