She Eyed My Spot, My Alpha Let Her

Chapter 7: The Public Shame

Leia’s POV

The pack house kitchen was already busy when I stepped in. Apparently, today was the day Princess Sharon decided we should eat along with other pack members, no more private dinners. I happened to be one of her chosen “chefs” for the night. Her audacity! She really was determined to make me feel like nothing but just a maid while she looked like a respectable Luna.

Large pots simmered over the stoves, the scent of roasted meat and spices filling the air. A few kitchen staff moved about quickly, preparing dishes for what I immediately realized was not an ordinary meal. My steps slowed slightly as that realization settled in.

We had not dined publicly in months, almost a year. Ever since Lionel’s death, Sharon had insisted that meals be taken privately to “help her heal.” Pete had agreed without question, and the entire household had adjusted to her preference. So why today?

“Luna Leia,” one of the older cooks greeted me respectfully. “We were told you would be assisting us.” Assisting, huh? How laughable! I was even an assistant of pack cooks?

The word settled uneasily in my chest, but I nodded anyway. “Tell me what needs to be done.” I tied an apron around my waist and stepped forward, pushing aside the heaviness in my heart. If this was what was expected of me, then I would do it properly.

For the next hour, I worked. I seasoned the meats, stirred the sauces, arranged the side dishes, and ensured everything was prepared to perfection. My hands moved with familiarity, but my mind was elsewhere, still weighed down by everything that had happened earlier.

No one questioned me. No one stopped me. I simply blended into the work, just another pair of hands in the kitchen. By the time everything was ready, trays were being lined up to be carried out to the main dining hall.

The “main dining hall.” That alone was enough to confirm that this was indeed a public dinner.

A low murmur of voices echoed faintly from beyond the doors, growing louder as they were pushed open. Pack members had already gathered, seated in their designated places, their conversations filling the room.

It had been a long time since I had seen it this full. In fact, the last memory I had of the Whiteblood pack dinner of such caliber was when I was twelve, just before we left for my father’s former pack.

I wiped my hands lightly on the apron and followed behind the others carrying the dishes. The moment I stepped into the hall, a few heads turned. Then more.

Whispers followed almost immediately. I lowered my gaze slightly and focused on placing the dishes on the long table, ignoring the weight of their stares. At the head of the table sat Pete, and beside him was none other than the spot snatcher, Sharon and her pup.

She was dressed elegantly, far more than the occasion required, her posture poised, her expression soft and composed. Anyone looking at her would have thought she had always belonged there.

Like she was the Luna. My chest tightened, but I forced my expression to remain neutral. One by one, the dishes were placed before them.

I stepped back slightly, waiting. Waiting for what, I wasn’t even sure. Perhaps for him to acknowledge me? Perhaps for him to ask me to sit? But neither came. Maybe he was still angry with me, and that was his punishment.

Instead, Sharon rose gracefully from her seat. “Thank you all for gathering today,” she said warmly, her voice carrying across the hall. “It has been a while since we shared a meal together like this.”

A few nods and murmurs of agreement followed. She smiled gently and reached for one of the serving utensils. “Allow me,” she said, turning toward Pete. My fingers curled slightly at my sides.

She served him first. Carefully and attentively, as if it were her place. Pete did not stop her. He did not correct her. He simply allowed it.

A quiet murmur rippled through the hall. I knew they would begin to look at me differently, with less respect. To them, it was clear that the fated Luna might have done something wrong; even the Alpha didn’t spare her a glance.

I could feel the shift in the atmosphere, the unspoken acknowledgment of what they were all witnessing. Sharon moved on, serving others at the table, her smile never wavering.

“Make sure everyone is well taken care of,” she added lightly to the servers. Her words hung in the air, deliberate and calculated. She was giving instructions that only a caring and concerned Luna could, and that sent a strong message to the wolves. She held more authority than me, the unrecognized Luna. I remained where I was, unnoticed, unserved, and invisible.

A few of the pack members exchanged glances, their whispers no longer as subtle.

“Isn’t that Luna Leia? Why is she standing there?”

“I thought she would be seated beside Alpha Pete…”

“Then why is Sharon…?”

Their voices trailed off, but the meaning was clear. Heat rose to my face, but I refused to let it show. I straightened my back slightly, holding onto what little dignity I had left.

Sharon turned then, her gaze landing on me as if she had just remembered my presence. “Oh,” she said softly, a hint of surprise in her tone. “Leia, you’re still standing there?”

A few heads turned again. “I thought you would be helping in the kitchen,” she continued gently. “The meal turned out wonderfully.” I got the hint in her words. They meant I belonged in the kitchen as a helper while she belonged next to Pete.

My heart clenched. She was taking credit for my work, and she was doing it so effortlessly while belittling me in front of the whole pack. “I…” I started, but the words caught in my throat.

What was I supposed to say? That I had been the one cooking? That I had prepared everything they were now praising her for while I remained invisible?

Pete’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Return to your duties,” he said without looking at me. The words landed heavily. Final. 'Your duties?' Clearly he had agreed to this new designation of mine and that stung.

Around us, the whispers grew louder, no longer restrained.

“She really is being treated like staff…” “Then Sharon?”

“It seems obvious, doesn’t it? Maybe she did something wrong, and now she is being punished? Or has she been demoted?”

I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down.

For a brief moment, my eyes lifted to Pete. He did not look at me. Not even once. Whatever fragile hope I had been holding onto finally cracked. “I understand, Alpha,” I said quietly.

The title felt foreign on my tongue. I turned before anyone could see the tears threatening to fall and walked back toward the kitchen, each step steady despite the storm raging inside me.

Behind me, the sound of laughter resumed. Plates and cutlery clinked. Voices carried on as if nothing had happened, while I felt so humiliated and shamed.

Everybody carried on with their lives as if I had not just been stripped of everything I was meant to be, and painfully by my own mate.

By the time I reached the kitchen doors, my vision blurred. But I did not stop walking. I could not afford to. Not in front of them. Because if I did, I might finally break. I couldn’t stay in the kitchen. I went straight to my room, locked the door, and collapsed on the bed, sobbing. I had literally had prayed for my own doom back then, and now here was my cross to carry.