THE ALPHA’S UNWANTED PLUS-SIZE MATE

Chapter 13

Clara’s pov

The council chamber smelled like old wood and tension.

I sat at the head of the table while Elder Voss spread the latest Silvercrest correspondence across the surface like a winning hand.

The other members watched me the way they always did lately, waiting for the crack.

“They’re done waiting,” Voss said. “The formal claim has to be announced by the next full moon or they take the alliance elsewhere.

Their Alpha made that clear. No more delays. No more ‘under consideration.’”

Harris leaned forward. “We’ve stalled long enough, Kael.

The border reports are getting worse. Rogue activity is up. We need those patrols and the trade routes. Sign the damn thing.”

I stared at the unsigned contract. The words blurred. Somewhere under my ribs the bond gave a low, familiar pull, the same one that had refused to die since the night I rejected her in front of the entire pack.

“I said I would review it,” I answered.

Voss’s mouth tightened. “You’ve reviewed it. Twice. This is no longer a review. This is a decision. The pack needs a Luna who strengthens us, not a reminder of a public mistake.”

The word mistake landed harder than it should have.

I kept my voice level. “Clara was not a mistake.”

Silence dropped over the table. A couple of the younger betas exchanged glances. Voss recovered first.

“She was an unsuitable match. No standing, no family alliances, no political value. You did what was required.”

“I humiliated her,” I said. The admission came out quieter than I intended, but I didn’t take it back. “In front of everyone. On her birthday. And then I let her walk away like she was disposable.”

Harris frowned. “What’s done is done. The bond should have faded by now. The fact that it hasn’t is inconvenient, not a reason to upend an alliance that could protect half our territory.”

I stood. The chair scraped back. “You think I don’t know the cost? You think I haven’t felt every night since she left?”

No one answered.

I walked to the window and looked out over the dark pack lands. The pull in my chest was sharper tonight, like it knew we were talking about her. Like it was listening.

“She burned the first letter,” I said without turning around. “Ignored the others. I don’t even know if she’s safe. I only know the bond is still there, and every time one of you pushes Silvercrest’s daughter at me it gets worse.”

Voss’s voice hardened. “Then serve it properly. A formal second rejection under council witness. End it clean so the pack can move forward.”

I turned. “No.”

“Kael—”

“I said no.” The word came out harder than I meant, but the regret sitting under my sternum didn’t care about volume. “I already rejected her once in the worst way possible. I’m not doing it again for the sake of a cleaner political narrative.”

Harris spread his hands. “Then what? We lose Silvercrest, the borders stay soft, and the younger wolves keep whispering that their Alpha can’t make hard choices?”

“I made the hard choice,” I said. “I made it in front of everyone and I’ve regretted it every day since. That is the truth. You want me to compound it with another public performance so the elders can sleep better? Find another Alpha.”

The room went very still.

My mother, who had been silent at the far end of the table, finally spoke. “That’s enough for tonight.”

Voss looked ready to argue. She gave him a look that closed his mouth.

“We’ll reconvene in two days,” she said. “Everyone out. Now.”

Chairs scraped. Bodies filed toward the door. Harris lingered long enough to mutter, “You’re going to cost us everything,” before he left. Voss followed without another word.

When the door shut I stayed at the window. The bond throbbed once, distant and stubborn.

My mother came to stand beside me.

“That was the first time you’ve said it out loud,” she said quietly.

“Said what?”

“That you regret it.”

I didn’t deny it. There was no point. The council could dress the rejection up as strategy all they wanted. Standing in that clearing and watching Clara’s face when I said the words had been the moment I understood I’d traded something permanent for something temporary.

“She’s still out there,” I said. “The bond hasn’t loosened. If anything it’s stronger. And every time they push the Silvercrest claim I feel like I’m rejecting her all over again.”

“Then stop letting them push.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It never is.” She rested a hand on my arm for a second. “But you can’t lead this pack while half of you is still standing in that clearing. Either go after her and face the consequences, or find a way to live with the choice you made. Sitting in the middle is destroying you.”

She left me alone with the contract and the quiet.

I stayed at the window for a long time. The regret that had been living under my ribs for weeks finally had room to breathe.

It didn’t feel like a strategy anymore. It felt like the first honest thing I’d allowed myself since the night I watched her walk into the trees and disappear.