Burn in the Alpha Princess's Wrath

Leslie-Crimson Moon’s POV (Crimson Moon Pack – Bloodrock Estate)

“The results are in. Your heart is a perfect match for Liana’s. You have half an hour to get to our Pack’s hospital and undergo the transplant surgery.”

Hearing that cold, commanding voice from the other end of the line—my husband, Kirby-Crimson Moon, heir to the Crimson Moon Pack—was like falling into a frozen abyss. My blood felt like it had turned to ice. Even my Lycan Spirit, Asphodel, went completely still in shock, its low growl abruptly cut off.

“Hello? Leslie, did you hear me?!” Kirby’s voice rose, laced with the distinct pressure of an Alpha’s authority—and a barely perceptible trace of impatience. That impatience pierced right through the tough shell I thought I had built.

I took a deep breath, forcing down the lump in my throat and suppressing Asphodel’s furious roar.

My Lycan Spirit—my proud Alpha Lycan Spirit—was thrashing wildly inside me, trying to seize control of my body, to shred the bastard on the other end of the line who dared treat his mate this way.

“Kirby,” I said, my voice trembling slightly as I tried to hold on to a facade of calm, “I’m your Luna. Your mate.”

A bond forged under the gaze of the Moon Goddess—our souls and scents bound inextricably. How could he demand I cut out my own heart for another werewolf, an Omega who had just shown up out of nowhere? How could he so easily place my life and dignity beneath hers?

“I know.” Kirby’s voice was hard as iron, completely unmoved. “Liana and I may not be related by blood, but she’s the only sister of the warrior who gave his life to save me. I won’t just sit by and let her die. Leslie, you’re my mate. We’re connected by a bond. Even without a heart, you won’t die. My wolf will help keep you alive. In time, your heart will grow back. You’ll be weak for a while, sure, but with proper care, you’ll recover.” His tone was disturbingly casual, like he was asking me to give up a lock of hair. “What you’re losing is temporary health. What she’s losing is her life and soul. Leslie, don’t be so selfish.”

Selfish? I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms.

Asphodel let out a howl of rage and pain inside me.

Selfish? He dared call me selfish? The Alpha who once swore under the moonlight to protect me forever? The man who made my Lycan Spirit tremble and submit the moment we met—now accused me of selfishness for not handing over my heart to save another Omega?

Before I could respond, Kirby ended the call. The busy tone echoed in my ears like a cruel laugh.

In the kitchen, the soup pot continued to bubble—a venison broth I had carefully prepared to nourish an Alpha Lycan Spirit. Malach, his second-in-command, had once mentioned offhandedly how Kirby was stressed about Liana’s condition and hadn’t been eating well.

I had worried about him. I just wanted to do something to help.

What a joke.

I, Leslie, am not the Omega he thought I was—nor the one I pretended to be. I’m the only daughter of the Lycan King, my bloodline carrying the purest, most powerful Alpha strength.

My Lycan Spirit, Asphodel, could make most Alphas kneel.

I hid my identity and played the role of a docile, harmless mate in the Crimson Moon Pack because of that damnable, irresistible bond—and because I was tired of being the Crown Princess, tired of the endless responsibilities. I craved a simple love.

I thought that as my fated mate, he would at least cherish and respect me.

Reality slapped me awake.

For the past three years in Crimson Moon Pack, I lived like a low-ranking wolf. Kirby was always busy with Pack affairs—we barely saw each other. His domineering mother, Belle, the current Luna, had never accepted me. To her, I was just some nobody who married her son to steal status and power.

She fired most of the servants and dumped all the household chores on me, claiming it was to save money for the family. I, an Alpha mate in name, lived like a servant.

I endured it all—because I loved him, because of our bond.

Until a month ago, when Kirby brought home that Omega named Liana and declared, “This is Liana-Crimson Moon. From now on, she’s my sister.”

A sister, with no blood relation?

Belle adored her, often sighing right in front of me that she wished Liana had been the one to end up with Kirby. And Kirby himself? He doted on her, staying by her side at the Pack hospital whenever she was sick—something he never did for me, his actual mate.

And now he wanted me to give up my life to save her.

The fury and humiliation in my chest were suffocating. My phone buzzed again—it was a transfer notification.

Kirby had just sent me a million alliance credits. The note read: Surgery in 30 minutes. Don’t be late.

Of course. Every time he wanted me to do something I didn’t want to, he tried to shut me up with money. He really believed that money could buy anything. My heart? My loyalty? My silence?

I closed the message and opened the previous one.

It was a photo—Kirby and Liana asleep together in her hospital bed. Kirby looked exhausted, sleeping soundly, while Liana smiled smugly with her head on his shoulder.

Her hospital gown was askew, exposing most of her shoulder. Even through the screen, I could smell the seductive pheromones unique to Omegas—brazen and territorial.

Under the photo was a caption: Slept with Kirby tonight. You worthless excuse of a woman should know when to get the hell out of Crimson Moon Pack!

Liana.

That photo. That message. It shattered the last sliver of hope I had left.

Screw Crimson Moon Pack. Screw Kirby.

I’m done.

I took a deep breath, pushed down the rage and Asphodel’s murderous instincts, and dialed a long-forgotten number—one that carried an unmistakable mark of supreme authority.

The call connected. A voice, stern and familiar, answered. I couldn’t hold back the tears in my throat.

“Father… I made a mistake…”

There was silence on the other end, then a long, heavy sigh, filled with pain and affection.

“If you know it was a mistake, then come home. Whatever you’ve suffered, we’ll talk about it after. No one is allowed to hurt my daughter.”

When the call ended, it was like the strength drained from my body—but I felt lighter than I had in years.

Three years of endurance and pretending… finally over.

Kirby. Crimson Moon Pack.

You’ll soon find out exactly what it is you’ve lost.

Lars-Rogue’s POV (Lycan King – Rogue King Hall)

On the other end of the line, I heard my daughter Leslie’s choked voice—those words, “Father, I made a mistake…” tore through the calm I had maintained for the past three years like the sharpest wolf claw.

Seated atop the Black Rock Throne at the highest point of Rogue Pack King Hall, I looked down at the endless stretch of ancient forest bathed in moonlight. This was my domain—the land protected by the Lycan Pack for generations. The air was thick with the scent of pine and old earth, laced with the commanding aura that only the strongest Alpha could emit: the essence of absolute power and sovereignty.

My Lycan Spirit, Fenrir—just as ancient as this land—growled deep within me. It had sensed my fury. It had also felt the pain and humiliation of my proud daughter, whose blood was its own.

“Come home,” I said, keeping my voice steady as I struggled to contain the storm of rage inside. “Whatever you’ve endured, we’ll talk about it once you’re back. No one is allowed to hurt my daughter.”

The moment the call ended, the royal court fell into dead silence. The Beta guards standing in the shadows even quieted their breathing. They could feel it—my fury.

Three years ago, Leslie—my only daughter, heir to the Lycan family, the Alpha destined to lead the Lycan Pack to even greater heights—abandoned the political match I had arranged for her. A union perfectly suited to her status. All for a so-called “fated mate.” She hid her Alpha identity and royal bloodline, disguised herself as a gentle Omega, and married into the Crimson Moon Pack, into the household of that brat Kirby-Crimson Moon.

The Crimson Moon Pack might be powerful in the Camdonville region, but to me, the Lycan King, they are nothing. And that Kirby—even if he is an Alpha—what right does he have to marry the Princess of the Lycans?

I had been furious. I tried to stop her. But Leslie, drunk on that damned fated bond, threatened to sever all ties with me if I interfered. In the end, I gave in. I used my power to erase all traces of her past and allowed her to enter the Crimson Moon Pack as an ordinary werewolf, to chase her so-called love.

I had thought that even if Kirby didn’t know who she really was, the bond forged by the Moon Goddess would at least make him cherish her, protect her.

But what did I just hear? A heart transplant? They want my daughter—an Alpha princess—to cut out her heart to save an Omega? Claiming the mate bond would sustain her? That her heart would grow back over time? What utter lunacy. Even if there is some life-sharing capacity between bonded Alphas, there’s no guarantee of safety. I’ve never heard of anything so barbaric and insane. This is nothing short of an execution.

Crimson Moon Pack. Kirby-Crimson Moon. Belle.

Good. Very good.

I closed my eyes. My mental power surged outward, blanketing the entire continent.

Thorbane. I summoned my eldest son with a thought—an Alpha I had stationed in California, always keeping watch, always ready to protect Leslie.

“Father.” Thorbane’s calm voice answered quickly in my mind.

“Leslie’s been wronged. Use full authority. Activate the Moonbridge and bring her home. Wipe all traces. I don’t want a single mutt from Crimson Moon Pack tracking her.”

“Yes, Father.” Thorbane’s voice vibrated with barely contained anger. “Crimson Moon Pack will pay for what they’ve done.”

“They will.” I opened my eyes and looked directly into Thorbane’s pale blue wolf eyes, gleaming with cold, terrifying fire. “But for now, bring my little girl home safely.”

Fenrir howled inside me, hungry to tear apart those who dared harm its blood. Soon—very soon—they would understand the price of provoking the wrath of the Lycan King.

Kirby’s POV (Crimson Moon Pack Hospital)

I hung up the call, my brows furrowed. Leslie actually dared refuse me? She even threatened divorce?

She’s gotten spoiled. She’s completely forgotten her place.

The hospital room was thick with the cloying sweetness of Omega pheromones and the sharp sting of antiseptics. Liana lay weakly on the bed, her face pale, her big, teary eyes staring at me with a mix of dependence and fear.

“Kirby…” Her voice was faint. “Is… is Leslie unwilling? Maybe… maybe we should just forget it. I don’t want you to hurt her because of me…”

My irritation flared again. This, again. Always so kind, always thinking of others.

I stepped to her bedside, forcing a gentle tone, trying to reassure her—and myself. “Liana, don’t worry. Leslie’s just throwing a fit. She’ll come around. Your brother entrusted you to me. I won’t give up on you.”

Inside me, my wolf, Lance, paced restlessly. It seemed uneasy with my decision. But the will of an Alpha is absolute—I shoved its discomfort aside.

I turned to the Pack’s chief physician, a seasoned Beta werewolf. “What’s the situation? The match is confirmed? There’s really no other suitable donor besides Leslie?”

The doctor wiped sweat from his brow and answered cautiously, “Lord Alpha, the match is 99.9%—a perfect theoretical match. Miss Liana’s heart is failing rapidly. Her Lycan Spirit is deteriorating fast. I’m afraid… she won’t make it through the night. As for other donors… we’ve checked all available medical files in the Pack. Only Madam Leslie’s heart meets the requirements in both blood compatibility and Lycan Spirit resonance. As for the risks of the transplant…” He hesitated. “For Madam Leslie, even with your Alpha strength and the mate bond to sustain her, and even though the heart may regenerate… the process is extremely painful. She’ll be severely weakened for a long time—possibly even suffer permanent damage to her core power.”

“I already know all that,” I cut him off, unwilling to hear more about so-called risks. “As long as she survives, everything else can be recovered. Prep the surgery. I’ll bring her in within thirty minutes.”

The doctor didn’t dare object and hurried off to make preparations.

I pulled out my phone again and dialed Leslie’s number. This time, what greeted me was a deafening roar:

“Kirby-Crimson Moon! You bastard! Screw your heart transplant! I want a divorce!”

“Leslie, what the hell is wrong with you?” My brows knit tighter, my voice cold. “Come to the hospital and get the surgery done. Whatever compensation you want, I’ll give it to you!”

“Screw your compensation! I don’t want your money! The divorce papers are ready. I’ll see you at the Pack Arbitration Council tomorrow!”

The call was cut off again.

My face darkened. That Omega! How dare she challenge my authority like this? Who does she think she is? Just because she’s my mate, she thinks she can act this wild?

Liana looked up at me timidly. “Kirby… maybe we should just let it go… It’s okay if I die…”

“Shut up!” I barked, then caught myself and softened my tone. “Don’t say that. You’ll be fine.”

I stood in place for a long moment, my eyes sharpening with icy resolve. If she won’t come willingly, then don’t blame me for forcing her.

I quickly dialed two numbers.

“Malach, take some men and go ‘invite’ Leslie to the hospital. Use whatever means necessary. I want her in the operating room in ten minutes.”

“Finance department, freeze all accounts and resource access under Leslie’s name within Crimson Moon Pack. Immediately.”

I ended both calls with a cold snort. All of Leslie’s expenses were paid through sub-accounts I created for her, under my authority as Crimson Moon Pack’s Alpha heir. With a single order from me, she would have nothing. Let’s see how long she keeps defying me. An Omega who can’t even support herself—how dare she talk about divorce?

No matter how much she kicks and screams, that heart—she’s giving it up today.

Liana’s POV (Crimson Moon Pack Hospital)

The sound of Kirby hanging up echoed from the phone, and for a moment, the hospital room was suffocatingly silent.

I could smell the anger of an Alpha lingering in the air—that cold, overwhelming presence that belonged to Kirby. It made me tremble with fear and… excitement.

That bitch Leslie actually refused him. She dared to defy an Alpha’s command. She refused to give me her heart.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

I almost laughed out loud but forced myself to hold it in.

I had gone to great lengths to fake the breakdown of my Lycan Spirit, even harming my own body with forbidden medicine to simulate a crisis that could only be resolved through a heart transplant—all for this moment.

I wanted to trap Leslie, force her into a corner.

If she agreed, even better. An insignificant Omega sacrificing herself for a noble, soon-to-be Luna like me—well, that was an honor for her.

Even if she survived thanks to the mate bond and Kirby’s Alpha power, she’d be severely weakened, unable to compete with me for Kirby’s attention.

But now, she had refused. This was a golden opportunity handed right to me. She was being so “selfish,” so “cold”—choosing her own survival over the sister of the Pack’s hero, the woman Kirby treated like blood.

Kirby would surely hate her even more now.

That useless woman with nothing but a pretty face—how could she be worthy of a powerful Alpha? Only I knew how to admire him, how to depend on him, how to make him feel needed and worshiped.

I sensed Kirby’s gaze fall on me—evaluating, and… suspicious? No. I couldn’t let him doubt me.

I quickly summoned every ounce of acting skill I had. I made myself look even weaker, eyes brimming with tears, my voice barely above a whisper, as if I might stop breathing any moment.

“Kirby… am I… going to die? The doctor… he just said… my Lycan Spirit…”

I stopped at just the right moment and looked toward the doctor beside me, signaling him silently.

That Beta doctor immediately caught on. He put on a conflicted, urgent expression and turned to Kirby.

“Alpha sir, Miss Liana’s condition is… unusual. Just moments ago, her condition was critical, but now… her Lycan Spirit’s fluctuations seem… more stable. Could it be… a mistake in my diagnosis?”

“It’s not the doctor’s fault,” I chimed in softly, my voice like flowing water. “Sometimes they exaggerate things a little to make sure we take it seriously… Kirby, don’t be mad at him.”

I saw Kirby’s tightly furrowed brow begin to loosen. He stepped up to my bedside. His voice was still cold, but the anger had faded slightly. In its place was something that almost resembled… guilt?

Perfect. That idiot Leslie had no idea that her refusal was pushing Kirby closer and closer to me. Once I’ve completely replaced her and become the future Luna of Crimson Moon Pack, she’ll find out exactly what happens when you cross me.

Kirby’s POV (Crimson Moon Pack Hospital)

I stood outside the hospital room, the blend of Omega pheromones and antiseptic thick in the air, making my head throb. The call with Leslie had left me seething. She didn’t just defy me—her Alpha, her mate—she had the audacity to threaten to break the bond.

Who does she think she is?

Inside me, Lance snarled in fury—not over Liana’s condition, but over Leslie’s blatant defiance and challenge to my authority.

The doctor’s report just now was strange. Liana’s Lycan Spirit suddenly stabilized? Right after Leslie refused? The timing was too coincidental. Even Lance had picked up something off—there was a whiff of deception in the air, something hidden.

But… so what?

Compared to the possibility of Liana faking something, Leslie’s betrayal and escape enraged me far more. She’s my mate. Her life, her heart—they are bound to me through the sacred mate bond.

I believe my Alpha power is strong enough to sustain her life even after she loses her heart. It will grow back. Yes, it will be painful, but she won’t die. And to save the sister of the Pack’s greatest hero, how is that not a worthy price?

But she would rather cling to her so-called “health” and “freedom,” abandoning the Pack’s debt and disobeying my order? And now she’s vanished without a trace?

Selfish. So incredibly selfish.

I forced myself to shove aside the doubt about Liana’s condition. The priority now was to find Leslie—and remind her who’s in control.

“Malach!” I contacted my second-in-command through the internal comms, my voice sharp as a blade. “What’s the status on the tracking team?”

“Alpha sir…” Malach’s voice was hesitant. “We’ve lost all trace of Ms. Leslie. Her scent trail is gone, and there’s no footage of her in any Pack surveillance feed. It’s as if she… vanished into thin air.”

“Vanished?” I scowled. “An Omega evading Crimson Moon Pack’s entire tracking network?”

“The finance department also reports,” Malach continued, “that Ms. Leslie’s Pack accounts have been frozen as ordered. But their audit shows that over the past three years, she’s never used any of the credit points or resources you allocated to her. We have no idea where her daily expenses came from.”

She never touched the Pack’s resources? And now she’s disappeared?

Impossible.

The mix of rage and confusion twisted in my gut.

What the hell was Leslie hiding? Did she really think she could run?

“Expand the search! Mobilize every scout and informant! I don’t care if you have to tear California apart—find her!” I growled, my Alpha pressure so intense that my phone trembled in my hand.

I will not let my mate defy me like this. When I find her, she’ll pay dearly for what she’s done.