Her Alpha’s Greatest Regret

I’ve never been the kind of girl who stands out in a crowd. That’s fine by me. Honestly, it's better that way. When you're invisible, there's no one to disappoint. No one to envy. No one to pity. The kitchen at the pack house smells like fried bacon and burnt toast. A typical Saturday morning in this place. The house is busy, buzzing with activity as everyone prepares for the Mate Recognition Ceremony later tonight. The she-wolves are in a frenzy, their laughter echoing through the hallways as they preen and pamper themselves for the event. It’s supposed to be a celebration of love, of soulmates finally finding each other. But all it does for me is remind me that I’m not one of them. I scrub the floor with a vigor that borders on obsessive. My knees creak from the strain, but I don’t care. I don't want to think. I don’t want to feel. The cleaner the floor, the less I have to think about the fact that while everyone else is busy choosing dresses, doing their hair, and making themselves beautiful for the night ahead, I’ll be here. Alone. Cleaning. Invisible. I can hear them in the next room, giggling, fussing over their hair. Their voices are soft, melodic, like the rustling of leaves in a summer breeze. A part of me wishes I could be like them, just for a moment. To feel the anticipation, the excitement of a night where I could be seen, where someone could want me. But I’m not them. I glance up from my task for a moment, my gaze lingering on the window that faces the courtyard. I catch a glimpse of them — the beautiful she-wolves, their long, flowing hair glistening under the sunlight, their skin glowing like they’ve stepped out of some fantasy. They laugh, twirl, adjust their clothes. They're all so perfect, so radiant, so… desirable. I swallow hard, my throat tight. For a moment, I can almost feel the ache in my chest. The one that gnaws at me every time I see them. Every time I watch them live the life I’ll never have. They’ll dance with their mates tonight, and they’ll glow. They’ll be cherished. And I… I’ll be here, scrubbing floors, invisible to the world. It’s not that I resent them. I don’t. It’s just… well, it’s hard to ignore the truth. The truth that they’re everything I’m not. Perfect, beautiful, loved. And I am... none of those things. The floor is spotless now, but I don’t stop scrubbing. I can’t. If I stop, I’ll think about it too much. I’ll think about how I’ll never find someone to love me. I’ll think about how the moon might as well have passed me by. I’m not like them. I wasn’t born into this world of werewolves, of power and beauty. I was just some girl, born into the human world, until everything changed. Until I became one of them. But even as a werewolf, I don’t belong here. Not with them. I’m a mistake. A leftover. I shove the mop back into the bucket and rinse it out, trying to calm my racing thoughts. My eyes dart to the window again. Another group of she-wolves walks past, laughing together. I hate how easy it is for them. How effortlessly they float through life, supported by the pack. One of them catches my eye. It's Alice, the Alpha's daughter. She’s got the kind of beauty that stops people in their tracks. Her golden hair falls in perfect waves, and her eyes sparkle with an innocence I can’t even fake. She waves, her smile wide and full of kindness, but I know better than to return it. She’s kind to me out of duty, not because she actually wants to be. She has her life, her friends, her future. I’m just the invisible girl in the corner. She walks past, still laughing, and for the briefest moment, I wish I could disappear entirely. Like a ghost, unnoticed, fading into the walls. But I’m stuck. I’m always stuck. I look down at my hands, rough from years of work. The scars on my palms tell a story I don’t have the energy to recount. Being bitten by a werewolf doesn’t make you strong. It doesn’t make you beautiful. It just makes you different. It makes you something that doesn't belong. The Alpha’s voice cuts through the noise in the house, loud and booming. He’s talking to someone about the ceremony, telling them what time to show up, what they should wear. I can hear the excitement in his voice. I don’t care. The ceremony isn’t for me. It’s for them. The ones who belong. I start cleaning the counters, my eyes fixed on the task at hand. There’s nothing left to do but keep working. That’s all I know. Work. Clean. Repeat. The life of the invisible girl. A voice interrupts my thoughts. “Selene?” I look up, startled. It’s Derek, the Beta. His presence fills the room, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. Derek is everything I’m not. Tall, strong, imposing. He has this air of authority about him that draws people in. And his eyes… his eyes are the kind that haunt your dreams. Dark, intense, and full of secrets. The kind of man who makes everyone feel small without even trying. He’s not looking at me the way the others do. No, Derek never looks at me like that. He doesn’t look at me at all. “Everything okay?” His voice is low, calm, but there’s a tension in his posture. His eyes scan the room as though he’s looking for something he can’t find. “Yeah.” I force a smile, but it feels thin, fake. “Just cleaning. Busy night ahead, I guess.” He nods but doesn’t speak for a moment. Then, his gaze lands on me, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. “You should get ready. The ceremony starts soon. You’re not staying here, are you?” I blink, confused. “What? I— no, I’m just... working.” He looks at me, really looks at me, and for the first time, I wonder if he sees me as more than just the girl who cleans. But before I can process it, he shakes his head. “You should come,” he says softly, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You deserve to be there, Selene.” My heart skips a beat. I open my mouth to protest, to tell him that I don’t belong, that I’ll never be one of them, but the words get stuck. There’s something in the way he says it, something in the way he’s looking at me. His voice is laced with something deeper, something I don’t understand. Before I can say anything, the sound of footsteps interrupts. A few pack members walk by, all dressed up for the ceremony, talking and laughing. I feel a pang of envy in my chest, sharp and painful. “Maybe next time,” I mumble, turning away, hoping the moment will pass. But Derek doesn’t leave. He stays, watching me with those dark, unreadable eyes. “Don’t wait for next time, Selene,” he says quietly. “You never know when the next time might be your last.” I feel a cold shiver race down my spine, the words hanging in the air, heavy and ominous. I turn toward him, my heart hammering in my chest, but he’s already gone. The house feels even emptier now. The voices of the others seem distant, like I’m listening through a thick fog. And for the first time, I wonder if maybe I’m not so invisible after all.