Mated to the wrong Alpha

Irene had always known who she was in the pack. Not because anyone said it out loud, but because life had a way of reminding her every single day. It was in the way people spoke gently to her, as if she might break. In the way stronger wolves naturally stepped ahead of her, taking the lead without asking. In the way expectations were placed on her quietly, carefully, like rules that did not need to be explained. She was an omega. But Irene had never believed that being an omega meant being weak. She was gentle, yes. She chose her words carefully. She listened more than she spoke. She noticed things others missed, the sadness behind smiles, the tension in a room before voices were raised, the unspoken feelings people carried like heavy stones in their chests. Her strength was not loud. It lived in patience. In endurance. In the way she kept loving even when it hurt. And nowhere was that more true than in the way she loved Sebastian. Sebastian had been part of her life for as long as she could remember. Long before ranks mattered. Long before pack rules shaped who they were allowed to become. They grew up together, running through the woods until their legs ached, hiding from elders when they skipped chores, whispering secrets under the stars when the night felt too big and quiet. Back then, he had been just Sebby. The boy with messy hair and scraped knees. The boy who laughed too loud and smiled too easily. The boy who always waited for her when she fell behind. As they grew older, the pack began to see Sebastian differently. He was strong. Confident. Born with the kind of presence that made people listen when he spoke. A future alpha in everything but name. Irene saw all of that. But she also saw the boy who still brought her warm bread when she forgot to eat. The one who noticed when she went quiet. The one who sat beside her without asking questions when her thoughts became too heavy. That was the Sebastian she loved. Not the rank. Not the promise of power. Just him. “Irene.” His voice pulled her from her thoughts, warm and familiar. She looked up from where she sat beneath the old oak tree near the edge of the training grounds. The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves above her, painting soft shadows across the ground. Sebastian stood a few steps away, a small smile playing on his lips. His shirt clung lightly to his skin, damp with sweat from training. He looked relaxed, at ease in a way few people ever were. “You’re hiding again,” he said. “I’m not hiding,” she replied, smiling despite herself. “I’m thinking.” He walked closer and dropped down beside her, his shoulder brushing hers as if it belonged there. “That’s worse. You get that faraway look when you think too much.” “Maybe I just like my thoughts,” she teased. He laughed softly. “Dangerous.” They fell into easy silence, the kind that didn’t demand to be filled. Birds chirped nearby. The sounds of the pack drifted in the distance, training calls, laughter, life moving forward. Sebastian leaned back against the tree, stretching his legs out in front of him. “You skipped lunch again, didn’t you?” Irene sighed. “I forgot.” He shook his head, reaching into the bag he carried and pulling out a small wrapped piece of bread. “You always forget.” She stared at it, touched in a way she never quite knew how to express. “You didn’t have to.” “I know,” he said simply, placing it in her hands anyway. Their fingers brushed. The contact was brief, innocent, yet it sent a familiar warmth through her chest. Irene looked down quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way her breath caught. Moments like this were dangerous. Not because Sebastian did anything wrong, but because they made her hope. They made her believe that what she felt wasn’t one-sided. That what existed between them was real, even without names or promises. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sebby,” she said quietly. He turned to look at her, his expression softer now. “You’d still be you.” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” He studied her face, as if trying to understand something he couldn’t quite see. “You give yourself too little credit.” Maybe. But Irene had always believed that love wasn’t about claiming or being claimed. It wasn’t about fate forcing two souls together because the moon said so. Love, to her, was choice. It was showing up. Staying. Seeing someone fully and deciding, again and again, that they mattered. She had chosen Sebastian a long time ago. Even without a bond. Even without certainty. “You ever think about the future?” Sebastian asked suddenly. Her heart skipped. “Sometimes.” “What do you see?” She hesitated, then smiled softly. “I see things staying like this.” He raised a brow. “That’s it?” She shrugged. “I don’t need more.” He didn’t answer right away. Sebastian looked out across the clearing, his jaw tightening just slightly, as if her words had stirred something complicated inside him. Irene noticed. She always noticed. “You don’t believe me,” she said gently. “It’s not that,” he replied. “I just think you deserve… more.” “More than what?” she asked. “More than waiting,” he said quietly. Her chest tightened, but she kept her voice calm. “I’m not waiting. I’m living.” He turned back to her then, searching her eyes. “You’re stronger than you know.” She smiled, though something inside her ached. “You say that like you’re leaving.” “I’m not,” he said quickly. “I just—” He stopped himself. Irene didn’t push. She had learned that loving someone sometimes meant letting silence exist between words. Sebastian stood and offered her his hand. “Come on. Walk with me.” She took his hand without hesitation. As they walked through the pack grounds together, wolves greeted Sebastian with respect, with admiration. Some glanced at Irene with curiosity, others with mild surprise. She felt none of it. When she was with him, the rest of the world faded. If love truly needed a bond to be real, then why did this feel so complete? Why did his presence steady her heartbeat? Why did she feel seen when he looked at her? Irene believed truly believed that love like this didn’t need fate’s permission. And as she walked beside Sebastian, her hand still warm in his, she had no idea how fragile that belief really was.