The alpha who chose me

Aya Do you even realize how pathetic you look, clinging to Cliffe like this?” Evelyn’s voice suddenly sliced through the air, sharp and venomous. “What do you even offer him? Me? I have the backing of one of the most powerful alpha packs in the industry. Cliffe gets access to endless resources and treaty’s because of me. And you? What do you have? An orphanage?” The laugh that followed wasn’t sweet or amused, it was cruel, deliberate. I froze, my chest tightening as her words burrowed into me. This wasn’t the polished, angelic Beta Evelyn Morten the whole pack adored. No, this was someone ruthless, calculated, and entirely devoid of compassion. “I…I didn’t mean…” I tried to find my voice, but she cut me off with a dismissive wave. “Save it,” she snapped, her patience clearly worn thin. “Here’s the reality… Cliffe is mine now. Pack your things and leave before I lose my temper. Otherwise…” She let the threat hang in the air, her eyes narrowing. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. She didn’t wait for a response, strutting out of my room and into the bathroom like she owned it, leaving me standing there, shaking, humiliated, furious. I told myself it didn’t matter. I was leaving soon anyway. But no matter how hard I tried to convince myself, her words echoed in my head like a curse. That night, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring into the abyss of memories I wasn’t ready to revisit. High school. Cliffe’s support had been my lifeline then. He was still a little wolf back in those days, under the alpha training and taking whatever little missions he could to scrape by. Money was tight, but somehow, he always made sure I had enough and came through. When I started college, I couldn’t bear being a burden anymore. I began writing, and though my early earnings were small, they grew. From a few hundred dollars to thousands, I became independent. Yet Cliffe still sent me money every month, insisting it was “his duty.” I saved it all, every cent. Someday, I thought, I’d give it back. When I graduated, I wanted to work, to stand on my own. But Cliffe… he’d asked me to stay. “I’ve never had a real family,” he had said, his voice raw, his vulnerability exposed. “Now that I finally have one, I don’t want to lose it.” I’d stayed. For him. For us. Now, Evelyn’s words had shattered that illusion. How had I been so blind? The next morning, I overslept, something I never did. Panic set in as I rushed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for Cliffe. I made his favorite light vegetarian dishes. He had a sensitive stomach and I’d learned to cook around it. I was just setting the table when Evelyn waltzed in wearing one of Cliffe’s oversized shirts, her bare legs on full display. “Good morning!” she chirped, her voice syrupy and bright different from her bitch tone earlier on. I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat. “Morning,” I replied, forcing a polite smile. She glanced at the table, her lips curving into a mock pout. “Oh no, did someone forget about me? No breakfast for the guest?” My pulse quickened, shame heating my face. Without a word, I turned to get another bowl. But as I carried it to the table, she stepped into my path. “Ah!” she shrieked dramatically. The bowl slipped from my hands, shattering on the floor. Scalding porridge splattered over my feet, and a sharp, searing pain followed as a shard of porcelain sliced into my heel. I gasped, stumbling back, the sudden pain almost making me black out. Blood pooled beneath me, hot and sticky. Her scream brought Cliffe rushing into the room. “What happened?” His voice was sharp, his eyes scanning the scene. “I just wanted to help,” Evelyn whimpered, lifting a foot to show a single grain of rice stuck to her skin. “But she bumped into me, and the bowl fell. It’s fine, though. I’m not hurt.” Cliffe’s gaze snapped to me, crouched on the floor, clutching my bleeding foot. “Aya, what the hell? Can’t you be more careful?” My breath hitched. I stared at him, the pain in my chest eclipsing the sting in my foot. “Cliffe, I…” “Apologize,” he demanded, his tone cold. Evelyn rested a hand on his arm, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “Cliffe, don’t be mad. It’s not a big deal. Just… clean this up, Aya . Someone could get hurt.” She led him out of the room, casting me a victorious smirk over her shoulder. As their voices faded, so did my composure. Tears spilled over, hot and uncontrollable. It wasn’t the burn on my skin or the cut on my heel that hurt the most. It was the betrayal, the realization that the boy who had once fought for me, protected me, was gone. I bit my lip, tasting blood. This wasn’t my home anymore.

Aya The turmoil in my life began long before Cliffe came into it. As a child, betrayal and blood shattered my world. My uncle, consumed by greed and desperation, kidnapped me in the dead of night. His scheme crumbled as quickly as it began, he drank himself to death in a sleazy bar, leaving me abandoned in a dingy motel, terrified and alone. For days, I wandered the streets, cold and starving, until a couple found me. They called me Rachel and took me in as their own. But luck turned its back on me again when my foster mother finally bore a child of her own. One crisp autumn morning, my foster father packed my belongings into a small bag and led me to the train station. We rode in silence for hours until we arrived in the city. He left me in front of a decrepit building, my world tilting on its axis. “This will be your home now,” he said with finality. No goodbye. No second glance. Just the sound of his retreating footsteps. I stood frozen, clutching the bag of everything I owned, tears burning my cheeks. Then, through the iron fence, a boy’s voice broke the silence. “Hey! What’s your name? Did your pack abandon you too?” He was all wiry limbs and messy hair, his grin wide and mischievous. I hesitated, searching for something real in the chaos. “I’m Aya,” I whispered. The name tasted foreign, but familiar enough. “Cliffe,” he said with a lopsided grin. “Don’t worry. The pack didn’t want me either. But I’ll take care of you.” And he did. I was confused at what he meant by pack and later came to find out he was a werewolf, most of our siblings at the orphanages were wolves. Life in the orphanage was brutal. The scent of unwashed bodies and despair clung to the air. Fights broke out over scraps of food, dominance battles where strength ruled. But Cliffe was my shield, always stepping in before anyone dared lay a hand on me. We became inseparable, a young wolf and a weak human girl against the world. He taught me to fight, to survive. The bond we shared was fierce, unbreakable… or so I thought. Over time, Cliffe changed. He grew distant, his fierce protectiveness replaced by something colder, guarded. I had confessed my feelings for him one day out of the blue and he shut it down with I would grow out of it… but I knew I wouldn't. Then she arrived, Evelyn Morten. Her presence was electric, commanding, the kind that turned heads and silenced rooms. I watched helplessly as Cliffe gravitated toward her, caught in her orbit. I should’ve hated her, but how could I? She was everything I wasn’t… strong, confident, magnetic and a Beta wolf. I was just the girl left behind. The night everything fell apart, the air smelled of rain and regret. I sat in the shadows of my room staring blankly at my plants on the windowsill. They were my sanctuary, my pride. Soon, they’d belong to someone else. Maybe they always had. I had gone to clean up my leg at the hospital and they gave me some drugs to ease the pain with a neat dressing, the glaring white bandage stared back at me with pity. My phone buzzed, dragging me back to reality. A message from my editor glared on the screen: [Aya, where’s your update? Readers are waiting. You’re late again.] I swallowed the lump in my throat and typed a curt reply. [It’ll be up tonight.] Back in my apartment, the memories clawed at me as I opened my laptop. My novel… my novel, a story of two wolves who found solace in each other… It was a lie. My characters had a love I’d never know. The comments beneath my latest chapter blurred together. “When will they realize they’re mates?” “Don’t let them drift apart! They deserve happiness!” “Please, no sad endings. My heart can’t take it!” They didn’t know the truth, sometimes, love wasn’t enough. I typed furiously, my fingers trembling as the words poured out. “Chapter Title: The Final Goodbye.” It was late when I finished. Exhaustion weighed heavily on me, but I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I pulled out the old photo album hidden in my drawer. Each snapshot was a dagger to my heart, Cliffe in the kitchen, his hair damp from the rain. Cliffe laughing, his head thrown back, his eyes full of life. Cliffe asleep on the couch, the moonlight framing his face. I gripped the scissors tightly, the urge to cut him out of my life overwhelming. But the buzzing of my phone stopped me. It was my friend Caroline. “Aya, have you seen the news?” Caroline’s voice was frantic, her words tumbling out. “What news?” “You’re trending,” she said, her tone heavy. “Someone filmed you outside Cliffe’s engagement announcement last night. Evelyn’s fans are all over it.” My stomach twisted as I opened the app. The top tag was a knife through my chest: #CliffeAndEvelynForever. But it was the second hashtag that destroyed me: #Cliffe’sPatheticStray. Photos of me crying outside the building, clutching the gift I got for him, filled the screen. The comments were a feeding frenzy: “Cliffe’s pity project is still clinging to him? How pathetic.” “She’s so desperate. Evelyn is his mate; she needs to back off.” “Some strays just don’t know when to leave.” My vision blurred. My hands shook. I stared at my reflection in the window, a hollow shell of the girl I used to be. Cliffe had been my everything. Now, I was nothing. The night air was sharp as I stepped onto the balcony, the city lights stretching endlessly before me. For years, I’d clung to the hope that he’d look back, that I’d still matter. But hope was a cruel lie. The wind carried a whisper, a reminder of the person I’d lost and the one I’d never truly had. After I had finished settling everything, I'll leave. And I wouldn’t look back.

Aya My fingers trembled as I walked past the pack hall, some of the maids and pack members gathered around in groups and gossiped about the situation between myself, cliffe and Evelyn. I never thought hateful remarks about me would affect me the way they did. I didn’t know which hurt more, the pain in my feet or the one in my heart. “Does anyone else think Aya looks a bit like Beta Evelyn? She has freckles under her eye, too!” One pack member chimed. “Really? Freckles aren’t rare. If every girl with one looked like Beta Evelyn, we’d have a thousand knockoffs running around.” Another person replied in irritation. “Let’s make Alpha Cliffe see sense and send her packing. À lowly human girl like her doesn’t belong anywhere near him!” “If she won’t leave, we’ll stage a protest outside their house. She won’t dare show her face.” À maid said loudly and all the others cheered in agreement. Each cruel word felt like a dagger to my chest. I quickly rushed over to the alpha’s cabin where me and cliffe stayed and immediately I went inside, I knelt to the floor crying and my eyes drifted to the old photograph on my desk, a group of children from the orphanage, smiling despite our worn clothes. At the center stood Cliffe, his arm protectively around my small shoulders. We had both been abandoned, but Cliffe’s quiet strength had carried me through those dark days. Now, the man who once shielded me had allowed me to be exposed. The photo’s leak could only have come from two people, him or Evelyn. The betrayal was suffocating. My phone rang. “Aya, are you okay?” Caroline’s voice crackled through the phone, brimming with concern. “I’m fine,” I lied, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “Don’t lie to me,” she pressed. “Do you want me to come over? I can catch the next train.” “No,” I said firmly. “I need to handle this alone.” After hanging up, I dialed Cliffe’s number. The first call went unanswered. By the third attempt, my frustration morphed into desperation. Finally, his deep, detached voice came through. “Aya, I’m busy. What’s the matter?” “Did you see the photo?” I asked, my voice trembling. “The one Evelyn posted online?” There was a pause, then a sigh. “Aya, Evelyn didn’t mean anything by it. She was just reminiscing about our past.” “Reminiscing?” My voice broke. “That picture has people calling me a parasite, Cliffe! How can you defend her?” “I’m not defending anyone,” he replied, his tone calm, almost disinterested. “I’ll handle it when I’m back.” “Handle it?” My grip on the phone tightened. “You’ve already let her tear my life apart. What else is there to handle?” Cliffe’s voice cooled. “Don’t be dramatic, Aya. I’ve always taken care of you, haven’t I? Don’t let this get to you.” The words stung worse than the hateful comments online and around the pack house . “Taken care of me?” I whispered. “So you keep a record of everything you do for me?.” But the line went dead. I didn’t know him anymore. That night, I tossed and turned, memories flooding my mind. Cliffe had once been my rock, my protector. Now, he seemed like a stranger. The next morning, sunlight streamed through my window, but it felt cold. My phone buzzed with unread messages: [caroline: Aya, the photos are gone. Someone must have pulled strings. Maybe Cliffe does care more than you think?] [Evelyn: Did Cliffe clean up your mess? Must be nice to have him wrapped around your finger.] My jaw tightened. Cliffe didn't have the power to do that, he was only the newly ascended alpha of the crimson moon pack and not the alpha of the obsidian pack or the darkcrest pack—the top packs. He didn’t have the power to hush the wolf and human communities. My phone went off. It was my sister. “Hey baby sis. Are you good?” Vivian’s voice came from the other side and I felt like bursting into tears because of the warmth in her tone. “Yeah, I am," I said, managing to keep my emotions in check as I walked into my bathroom to wash my face. “Do you need me to book a flight ticket for you or can you do it yourself?” She said and I could hear the sharp clicking of keyboard keys from her end. “It’s fine I can do it myself, I’ll be back soon I just need time to round up here.” The clicking stopped and silence ensued for a while before she continued “Ok… I love you.” “I love you too.”

Aya I was about to leave my room to get a bit of fresh air when Cliffe appeared, leaning casually against my door frame. His dark hair was disheveled, his expression unreadable. “Who were you talking to on the phone?” he asked, his tone sharp. I froze. “You misheard,” I replied quickly. “I was watching a video.” Before he could respond, Evelyn’s soft voice called from the kitchen. “Cliffe, breakfast is ready! Is Aya coming down?” Evelyn stepped into view, radiant as always, her smile dripping with false sweetness. “Good morning, Aya! I made sandwiches… your favorite! Cliffe told me what you liked.” I clenched her fists. “You two enjoy,” I said coldly. “I’m not hungry.” As I turned to leave, Cliffe grabbed her arm. “Don’t be rude,” he said, frowning. “Evelyn went out of her way to make this for you. The least you could do is sit down.” My laugh was sharp and bitter. “Rude? You’re calling me rude?” Cliffe’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means I’m tired, Cliffe,” I said, my voice trembling. “Tired of being the one who always gets hurt while you make excuses for her. Tired of being invisible unless it’s convenient for you.” His gaze dropped to my hand, where faint scars from our childhood still lingered. For a moment, something softened in his expression, but Evelyn quickly stepped between us, her voice dripping with concern. “Take a look at my leg! Where she spilled hot tea on and the porcelain cut my skin.” I screamed. “Did you bother to check up on me again?” There was a tinge of guilt in his eyes as he glanced at my bandaged feet. “Aya, I’m so sorry if I upset you,” she said, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. “I just wanted to share a piece of Cliffe’s past. I didn’t realize it would cause so much trouble…” My chest burned with suppressed anger. “Save it, Evelyn,” I snapped. “I’ve had enough of your games.” Evelyn’s face fell, her lips parting in a practiced look of hurt. Cliffe glanced between us, torn. “Aya,” he began, his tone softer now. “Don’t do this.” But I shook her head, stepping back. “No, Cliffe. You don’t do this. Don’t pretend you care when you’ve made it clear where your loyalties lie.” Before he could respond, I turned and walked out the door, the cool morning air rushing against my face. For the first time in years, I felt free.

Aya I sat on the swing I had pleaded with Cliffe to build outside the cabin, its creak blending with the soft rustle of the wind through the garden below. The plants and flowers, lovingly tended by me and the pack’s female elders, once brought me peace. But now, they felt like strangers… beautiful but hollow, a reminder of how misplaced I felt in this place I used to call home. Heavy footsteps approached behind me, steady and deliberate. “Come back inside,” Cliffe’s voice commanded, firm and unyielding, leaving no room for defiance. I gripped the chains of the swing tighter, my gaze fixed on the horizon. Just this once, I told myself. Not out of obedience, but a quiet acknowledgment of the man who had raised me, even if the connection between us now felt like a ghost of what it once was. The smell of chili sauce hit me like a punch to the gut. I took one look at the sandwich and immediately regretted my decision to sit down for breakfast. The fiery heat of the sauce lingered on my tongue, and my eyes watered as the burning sensation spread through my mouth. “Cliffe…?” I choked out, grabbing a glass of water. Cliffe’s deep voice was softer than I expected as he looked at me, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Aya? What’s wrong?” I held up the sandwich, unable to hide the frustration. “This isn’t ketchup, Cliffe. This is chili sauce. Did you… did you not tell her how I like my food?” Cliffe looked at the sandwich and then back at me. His face was unreadable, but I could see the flicker of something behind his eyes. A tinge of doubt. “I told Evelyn you liked ketchup. I don’t know what happened.” Evelyn, feigned concern, her delicate fingers tapping ‘nervously’ against her cup. “I… I must have mixed them up. I’m sorry, Aya. I didn’t mean to make you upset.” I stared at her, feeling the familiar surge of anger bubbling up. “You didn’t mean to?” I repeated, my voice cold. “You’ve been making mistake after mistake, Evelyn. First, it was the tea you spilled on my legs, and now… now this?” I gestured to the sandwich with a sharp motion, my frustration seeping into every word. Cliffe’s eyes softened, but his hand reached out to stop me. “Aya, it’s just food. You’re letting your anger control you.” I pulled away from him, my heart racing as I fought to suppress the tears threatening to spill. “No, Cliffe. It’s not just food. It’s everything. Evelyn’s presence, her constant mistakes, all of it. It’s like she’s trying to take everything from me.” Cliffe took a step back, his expression firm. “Aya, please.” His voice was low, and scary, and I could see the irritation in his eyes. “You know it’s too early for this right?” I bit my lip, feeling the ache in my chest deepen. “Every time something happens, you rush to defend her.” Cliffe paused, his gaze shifting downward. The silence between us stretched longer than I was comfortable with. “You’re wrong. I…” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes clouded with thoughts I couldn’t reach. I turned away, my hands trembling as I pushed the chair back from the table. “I’m going to the orphanage today.” Cliffe’s head jerked up, his eyes wide with surprise. “What? Why?” “I need to go back, Cliffe. It’s been a while, and I need to see Mrs. Leonard. I need to go back to where I belong.” My voice cracked, the weight of my words settling heavily in the air. He opened his mouth to protest but quickly closed it again, his jaw tightening. “I can’t go with you, Aya. I have things to do with Evelyn.” The words stung, harder than I expected. I didn’t want to feel this way. I didn’t want to feel abandoned, to feel like an afterthought in the life Cliffe had built for himself. But I couldn’t help it. “Fine,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I grabbed my coat and headed toward the door. “I’ll go alone.” The ride to the orphanage was quiet, my thoughts racing as I stared out the window. When I arrived, the familiar sight of the old building tugged at my heart. Mrs. Leonard was still here, still running the place with the same warmth and energy she’d had when I first arrived. “Aya!” Her voice rang out across the lobby, and I was immediately enveloped in her embrace. “You’re back! Oh, how I’ve missed you.” I smiled softly, hugging her back. “I’ve missed you too, Mrs. Leonard. I brought some gifts for the kids.” We sat down in her office, and she poured me a cup of tea. “I saw the news, Aya. Cliffe and Beta Evelyn, huh? I thought you two might end up together. You’ve been through so much together.” Her voice was gentle, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. I looked down at my tea, swirling the liquid in the cup. “Things have changed, Mrs. Leonard. I think Cliffe and I have both grown in different directions.” She sighed, a soft frown tugging at the corners of her lips. “I always thought he cared about you more than anyone else. He took care of you when you had no one.” She shook her head, her expression wistful. “But sometimes, people change. They grow apart.” I nodded, feeling the sting of her words settle into my bones. “I’ve changed too, I guess.” As I walked out of the orphanage later that afternoon, a sense of clarity began to settle over me. It wasn’t just Cliffe that had changed, it was me, too. I wasn’t the same girl who had wandered into the orphanage years ago, abandoned and lost. I was stronger now. I had a life to build, with or without Cliffe. But as I stood outside, the weight of my decision pressed heavily on my chest. Could I really let go of the boy who had promised to protect me forever? Could I step away from the only family I had left? I didn’t have the answers yet, but I knew one thing for certain: I wasn’t going to wait around for someone who didn’t see me the way I needed to be seen. The world was bigger than just Cliffe Salvatore, and I was ready to face it on my own.

Aya My phone buzzed insistently. Cliffe. The moment I picked up, his voice came through, sharp and demanding. “Why are you giving all your stuff away? The maids at the pack house said they saw people packing your things.” “Because they’re my things,” I replied coolly, barely keeping the edge out of my voice. “Do I owe you an inventory or an explanation for what I do with my belongings?” “You’re being unreasonable,” he shot back, his tone clipped. My grip tightened around the phone, anger surging through me, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Enjoy your trip with Evelyn,” I said evenly and hung up before he could respond. When I returned to the cabin, I threw myself into packing the remnants of my life. Clothes too worn to donate were tossed into trash bags, and personal items I once cherished now felt meaningless. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, I was dragging the last of the bags to the trash bin. One by one, I erased every trace of myself from the cabin we had once shared. Every memory, every piece of me that lingered in this place, it all had to go. This time, I vowed not to look back. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bare mattress, my body heavy with fatigue. Reaching for my phone out of habit, I was greeted by a flood of notifications. The tabloids were buzzing again… pictures of Cliffe and Evelyn, their smiles radiant as they stood together at the annual alphas’ gathering. They looked perfect together, an undeniable match. The way they leaned into each other, their bright smiles, it screamed of a connection that I could never rival. And then it hit me like a blow to the chest. I was the other woman. My throat tightened, and my heart ached as I scrolled through the photos, each one more painful than the last. I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep torturing myself like this. With trembling hands and a deep breath, I made my decision. One by one, I deleted every social media account I had. No more reminders. No more clinging to a past that had no place in my future. To leave the past behind, I had to let it go completely. Just seconds after logging out, my phone buzzed with multiple notifications from Evelyn. Curiosity got the better of me, and I opened them. My stomach churned as suggestive pictures of her and Cliffe filled the screen, their intimacy glaring in each shot. I clenched my jaw, my teeth grinding in disgust. Her text followed moments later: —*Will you be moved out before we return tomorrow?* I stared at the screen, debating whether to respond. After a long pause, I typed back a curt: —*Sure.* Her reply came almost instantly: —*Great! Such a good girl… I’ll be looking forward to it.* I sneered, the acidic taste of fury rising in my throat. Evelyn had made a fatal mistake, she underestimated me. I reached under my bed and pulled out my laptop, a secret I had kept even from Cliffe. My fingers flew across the keyboard as I accessed her phone. Retrieving the pictures she had smugly sent as "view once" was almost too easy. I leaned back in my chair, my lips curving into a cold smile. "My final gift to you, Evelyn," I murmured, saving the files in a folder labeled *Checkmate*.

Aya When morning came, I ensured my room was stripped bare of every trace of myself. All that remained was a card containing the exact amount of money I had calculated Cliffe spent on me over the years and the photo album I couldn’t bring myself to destroy. The memories it held were beautiful, but they were no longer mine to cherish. With a deep breath, I tore a page from my journal, scribbling the PIN for the card and a single phrase beneath it: I genuinely wish you happiness. I placed the card and note on the small table by the window, where he would be sure to find them. Grabbing my bag, I walked out of the cabin without a second thought. As I reached the front steps, I turned to look at the pack house one last time. For years, it had been my sanctuary, a place that had once felt like home. Now, it was just a reminder of everything I had lost. I straightened my shoulders, refusing to let sentimentality weaken my resolve. Without a final glance, I strode toward the waiting Uber parked by the front gate. The curious gazes of pack members followed me, their whispers a low hum in the cold morning air. I ignored them all, keeping my head high, my steps steady. This was my goodbye, and I wasn’t going to let anyone take it from me. Before boarding my plane, I sent the videos and pictures Evelyn had used to provoke me. I crafted my messages carefully: To Cliffe, I attached the files with a simple note: "You’ve made your choice." To the media, I sent them anonymously, tagging them: "They really can’t keep their hands off each other." Not long after, messages and calls flooded in. But I just turned off the phone and closed my eyes. The plane took off. I was ready to embrace a better future, a hidden identity that nobody knew.