Betrayed By Two Alphas:Bound By One Fate

Aurora’s POV No one ever asks an omega if she wants to be chosen. They speak of it like mercy, but it feels more like a hostile takeover. I stood at the edge of the grand ballroom. Hundreds of wolves packed the space, their combined body heat rendering the air-conditioning useless. Power rolled off them in suffocating waves. Along the walls, Alphas, Betas, and Board Members stood like statues of judgment. At the center of the hall stood Alpha Liam. He was a pillar of unyielding black in a tailored Tom Ford suit that cost more than the slum I grew up in. Even from the doorway, I could feel his wolf—a restless, sharp energy prowling just beneath his skin, making the air hum. I had no wolf of my own to answer that call. No family. No future. Until today. “Step forward,” the High Elder commanded. The speakers hissed with the force of his voice. The room went tomb-quiet. Every head snapped toward me. I felt the weight of their stares—scornful, mocking, and disbelieving. An omega was about to become their Luna. I took a step. The marble floor sent a shock of ice through my bare soles. They hadn’t provided ceremonial shoes; they’d whispered that omegas were meant to kneel, not walk, so why bother with silk slippers? I gripped the fabric of my dress, my knuckles white, but I didn't look down. I stopped in front of Liam. Close up, he smelled of expensive cologne, cold iron, and woodsmoke. He kept his gaze fixed on the wall behind me. His jaw was a hard line of bone, his shoulders squared as if he were facing a firing squad rather than a bride. The High Elder adjusted his lapel mic. “Alpha Liam, you have delayed this union far too long. The council demands stability for the pack’s assets. The people demand a Luna. Have you chosen?” The silence stretched until it felt brittle enough to snap. “Yes,” Liam said. The word was flat, like a stone hitting the bottom of a well. A low murmur rippled through the crowd. The Elder turned his cold gaze toward me. “State your name.” “Aurora,” I said. I forced the name out, refusing to let my voice tremble. “Aurora of no house.” “You have no surviving kin.” “None.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Do you understand the legalities of standing here? You have no standing to sue, no family to protect you if this fails.” “I understand,” I said, meeting his eyes. Finally, Liam’s head turned. Our eyes met, and for a second, his mask slipped. I didn't see warmth or the spark of a mate-bond. I saw guilt—dark, heavy, and jagged. The Elder raised a silver ceremonial blade. It glinted under the recessed LED lighting. “Then let it be known. By moon and blood, this bond is formed.” The blade bit into my palm. I didn't flinch. I watched the red line open up, the sting sharp and clean, and waited for him to take his turn. When our blood touched, the room seemed to exhale. A surge of power swept through the hall, and the pack answered with a roar of approval. But the bond was thin. It felt like glass stretched until it was ready to snap. Liam did not mark me. He didn’t lean in to claim my neck; he didn't even breathe in my scent. Applause broke out. I forced my lips into a practiced smile for the cameras, playing the part of the happy Luna. Beside me, Liam wore a faint, hollow grin that never reached his eyes. The ceremony ended quickly, followed by a silent, suffocating drive. The pack house was a monolith of stone and wealth, with rows of maids lined up like soldiers to greet us. I offered them a tired nod, but the second the heavy oak doors closed behind us, Liam dropped my hand as if it had burned him. He turned to face me, his expression hardening into a mask of ice. “You aren’t my wife. You’re the pack’s wife.” I felt the air thicken, but I didn't back away. “What did you just say?” He exhaled sharply, his irritation boiling over. "Don’t act like you don’t know how this works," he snapped, his tone dripping with disdain. "What were you hoping for, Aurora? A fairytale? A mate-bond that actually meant something?" He took a step closer, using his height to loom over me. "I wouldn’t have married you if it wasn't for the council’s relentless insistence. You are a checkbox for the pack’s stability. Nothing more. That is why you belong to them, and not me.” My face went pale, but I forced my hands to stay still against the silk of my gown. I refused to let them shake. “I must be the unluckiest man on earth," he added, his voice dropping to a cruel, low hiss. "Fated to an orphaned omega. It's an insult." The words pierced deep, a physical ache blooming in my chest. A single tear escaped, hot and traitorous, but I swiped it away before it could fall. “You could have rejected the bond,” I said. My voice was tight, but I kept it level. “You didn't have to sign the papers. You chose this just as much as I did.” “Did you not hear me? It is my duty,” he snarled, stepping into my personal space. “Why are you crying? Surely you didn’t think a man like me would actually accept a girl like you. Our marriage is a formality. A performance.” His voice turned cold and final. “It will last for three years, and then we divorce. I have no intention of treating you as a wife, nor will I pretend otherwise. I am already in love with someone else.” I felt my heart fracture, the pieces sharp in my chest. “I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this!” I snapped. The sharpness of my voice made him shoot his eyebrows up in surprise. “I won’t be used as a tool. I won't be tossed aside like garbage after three years and just forgotten!” He didn't blink. “You don’t have a choice. You’ve already signed the papers for this union.” “This wasn’t the life I was promised,” I whispered. My throat tightened, making the words come out small and jagged. I gripped the fabric of my skirt until my knuckles turned white. “I was promised a home, not a countdown to a divorce.” “You are nothing, Aurora.” Hearing my name on his lips felt like a bruise. He stepped closer, his shadow looming over me. “You should be grateful you have a roof over your head instead of the slum you crawled out of.” His voice was as cold as a winter morning. “This is all you get. Don’t ask for more.” The air felt heavy, pressing down on my shoulders until they slumped. I forced a shaky breath into my lungs and pulled my lips into a faint, watery smile. “If that is what you want… then do it. I won’t stand in your way.” “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page,” he said. He straightened his tie, his movements stiff and formal. “For both our sakes, I need my space. There will be rules. We play the perfect couple for the cameras, but behind these doors, we stay on opposite sides of the line until we part ways.” I nodded, keeping that fake smile plastered on my face even though my eyes felt cold. “We stay in separate beds. This room is yours,” he said. He turned on his heel and marched out without a backward glance. The moment the door clicked shut, I let out a crazed laugh. I pushed my hair back, my eyes narrowing at the empty room. This was my life now. A borrowed title. A borrowed home. If he wanted to end it in three years, then fine. I would not fight him. I would let him go.