The Alpha’s Healer

Chapter2

Viktoria POV: He Didn't Call My Name

“Viktoria,” my mother’s voice comes softly through the door. “It’s time, dear. We’re ready.”

I glance at the clock on my dresser, then back to the phone in my hand. The screen is blank. No missed calls or messages from Marco. I exhale a deep breath.

By now, Marco should have called me. Even one word, even one little reassurance. Something. But nothing. Is he still mad at me?

I bite my lip, unlocking the screen of my phone again. It’s pathetic how many times I’ve checked. How many times I’ve convinced myself he’ll call this very minute. But he hasn’t. Should I mind-link him? No. He'll probably not be able to reply me.

I quickly type a short message: We’re on our way. My thumb hovers for a second before hitting send. A small sigh escapes me again when I see the checkmark pop up: delivered. But not read. He’s not even online.

Still, I tell myself he’s probably too busy with preparations. Tonight is the biggest night of his life. Tonight, he will be announced Alpha before the entire pack, and to seal it, he will announce his Luna. After that, tradition says I’ll move into the mansion and within a week we’ll be married.

My stomach flutters with happy nerves. By this time tomorrow, I’ll wake up in Marco's bed. By this time next week, I’ll be Luna of the Bloodfang Pack.

But then . . . why hasn’t he called me?

I try to shake it off. He’s just distracted, even overwhelmed. This tradition can be taxing. We’ll laugh about this later.

The sudden buzz of my phone makes my heart leap. I snatch it up so quickly I nearly drop it. My pulse pounds as I unlock the screen, expecting Marco’s name.

But it’s not him. It’s that i***t, Elon.

“I’m sorry about last night. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please forgive me.”

My nose wrinkles in disgust. I’m not going to reply the fool. I don’t even open the message fully. I delete it without hesitation. I don’t have space in my head for him, not today. Or ever.

A knock at the door makes me look up. Two omegas slip into the room, their arms full of fine fabric and pins. My lips part in relief. If Marco assigned them to me, that means everything is still fine. He’s just being hardheaded, maybe even stubborn on purpose. But he knows. He knows I would never betray him. Not with Elon or anyone for that matter.

We are fated mates. Nothing can break that bond. Not doubt, not Lucille, not even Marco’s temper.

I let the omegas help me into the gown, silk sliding nicely over my skin. As the last pin is set and I look in the mirror, my heart swells with pride. I see myself not just as Viktoria from a poor family, but as what I am meant to be—the Luna of this pack.

My reflection takes me back to Alpha Kronig’s deathbed. His hand had been so frail as it gripped mine, his voice weak yet filled with certainty.

“Promise me, Viktoria. Promise me you’ll never leave my son’s side.”

I had crossed my heart, bobbing mu head. “I promise, Alpha. I’ll never leave Marco.”

Now, I hold that promise like a child holds on to his cradle. Yesterday is only one of those trials every relationship faces. We’ll get through it. We’ll heal and rule this pack together.

As the omegas finish, I try to steady my nerves. I whisper to myself, “I’m going to be the best Luna this pack has ever seen.”

And I believe it. I can feel it in my bones . . . the Moon Goddess favors me.

It is a short trip to the mansion that feels like a marathon. I sit between my parents, their hands folded in their laps, pride shining in their eyes. They’ve waited their whole lives for this too, not just for me, but for our family to finally be respected, elevated.

But when we arrive, the mansion feels eerily quiet. There's no music to welcome us. The grand hall is empty. No one here to welcome me and my family.

Fear grips me, but I brush it aside, hurrying toward the pavilion outside where the announcement is meant to take place.

Marco is seated on the dais at the front of the pavilion, Lucille beside him. The elders sit in their ceremonial robes, the council gathered in a semicircle, and beyond them the crowd of pack members. Every wolf who matters is here. Every eye turned toward him. Except his eyes don’t turn toward me.

I slip through the edge of the crowd, trying to catch his gaze, but he never looks my way. I feel a sick feeling inside my stomach like I'm going to throw up. Why won’t he look at me?

The officiating elder rises slowly, and in a voice deep and resonant, he speaks to the pack.

“Brothers and sisters of Bloodfang,” he begins, “we gather here tonight under the eyes of the Moon Goddess to complete what has begun. Days ago, warriors from among us stood to compete for the title of Alpha. Strength was tested, courage proven, and skill was weighed in the balance. Many fought bravely, but only one emerged victorious.” He gestures toward Marco with an open palm. “Marco Kronigson. He fought with honor, defeated his peers, and even bested his closest friend, Elon, with strength beyond question. He has shown the body of an Alpha, the heart of a leader.”

The crowd erupts with cheers, wolves raising fists and their voices. A nervous smile crosses my lips too and I clap.

The elder raises his hand for silence. “But strength alone does not make an Alpha. The final step is before us now. Tonight, Marco must present to us his Luna, the one who will stand beside him, guide him, bear his heirs, and serve as mother to this pack. Only then shall he be crowned Alpha.”

My hands clasp over my chest. The moment is here. The moment I have dreamed of for years.

Marco stands. His presence is commanding, he's tall and big, his dark hair glinting under the moonlight. My heart stops as I watch him scan the crowd.

“My Luna is here,” he declares in a booming voice.

This is my cue. I begin pushing gently through the crowd, my parents behind me. My heart has grown feathers, about to fly. Finally, this is it.

Pack members glance at me knowingly, smiling, their eyes bright with joy. I can hear the whispers: It’s Viktoria. Of course it’s Viktoria.

I step out from the crowd, my gown gleaming, my breath trembling with anticipation. My eyes fix on Marco’s, waiting for him to say my name.

Marco lifts his chin and in a clear, unwavering voice, announces, “My Luna is . . . Kyra Conley.”

Time stops, my mouth goes dry. The strength in my stomach collapses. Every eye shifts from me to the dais. The name Marco just called echoes in my head, louder and louder, and louder until it becomes deafening. That's not my name he called.

Who's Kyra Conley?