Possessed by the Twin Alphas

Keya’s POV I wrapped my hands tighter around the mug, the ceramic burning against my palms. Still, I welcomed the sting. It was the only thing keeping me grounded while the man across from me—my mate—avoided my eyes like a coward. James hadn’t touched his drink. His knee bounced. He kept opening his mouth like he was going to say something… then clamping it shut. Over and over. “Spit it out,” I finally said, my voice sharper than I intended. His gaze flicked up, and I hated what I saw in it. Distance. Pity. Like he was already somewhere else. Maybe he was. “I’ve been thinking,” he said carefully. “About… us.” Dread coiled in my gut like a snake. “I think,” he continued, “we should try something different. You know, something more… modern.” I blinked. “Modern?” “I want to open our marriage.” The word echoed in my head before I even understood what it meant. And then the weight of it crashed over me like a tidal wave. “You want an open relationship?” I asked, my voice hollow. He sighed, like this was exhausting for him. “We’ve been stuck in the same rhythm for too long. Maybe we’re not meant to be exclusive. Maybe it’s time we stop pretending otherwise.” The mug slipped from my hands. It didn’t break, didn’t shatter. Just landed on the carpet of my room with a dull clunk, spilling tea across the white surface. I stared at him, my throat tight. “Is there someone else?” He shook his head, but didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He already had someone. This open marriage bullshit? It was only because he wanted to make it official, because he knew how I would react when and if I caught him cheating on me. I would rip the rug from under his feet, and he didn't want that. My wolf sighed. James was only my chosen mate, so of course, I hadn't felt it when he cheated on me, but... yeah. This was still more than I could bear. I stood, my legs barely holding me up. “So that’s it? That's all you want to say?” James didn’t even look ashamed. “I just think we need different things now. But you’re still my Luna, and I respect that. I respect you, Keya. You’re strong. You’re... perfect. Except—” He hesitated, his gaze flicking away like a coward. Except I don’t satisfy him. Not in the way he wants. Not in bed. Not in the bedroom. Not anywhere that mattered to him. That was the part he didn’t say, but I heard it anyway. Loud and clear. And he wanted someone else to f.uck, to pleasure. Yeah. I was still his Luna, sure. But not because he loved me. Not because he wanted me. Because he needed me. Because Ashmoor Pack—his pack—was the smallest in the Western Peaks. Weak. Undermanned. Vulnerable. A pack held together by name and desperation. And the only thing keeping it from collapsing completely was me. Or rather, the connection I had to my real home. Stormveil was the biggest pack in Western Peaks. My brother, Alpha Ryker Landon, led one of the strongest, wealthiest packs in the region. My pack was known for our warriors, our alliances, our land, our wealth. Every supply shipment, every border patrol backup, every whisper of political influence James clung to came from my brother’s goodwill. From me. That was the real reason James still called me Luna. Not out of love or loyalty, oh, the fu.ck not. It was a strategy. I was a strategy. Maybe I have always been. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, trying to keep my voice from cracking. “And what do I need, James?” He looked at me like he didn’t have the answer. Because he didn’t care. Not enough to know. Not enough to ask. The f*ck with him. He hesitated, dragging a hand through his hair like this conversation was hard for him. I glared at him with all the anger that was burning inside me. “I don’t know,” he finally muttered. “Maybe you’ll find something to do. You… you love art.” Not someone. Something. What the fuc.k? "Bastard," my wolf growled. He wasn’t telling me to find love. Or passion. He was telling me to find a hobby. I blinked, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if I was about to cry—or burn the room to ash. I laughed and laughed until tears blinded my vision. “So let me get this straight,” I said, my voice low and sharp, every word dipped in venom. “You get to screw around with Miranda like your d**k’s on a world tour… and I should just stay home and paint?” He didn’t answer. He looked down, shame darkening his features. “Oh—wait. No, you’re right. That sounds perfect. I’ll buy some new brushes. Maybe finally finish that canvas I started before you started sneaking off every other night. I might not have felt the pain, but I saw it...” Still nothing. I laughed then. “Hell, maybe I’ll take up knitting. Make you a sweater for your little adventures. Or should I bedazzle you a leash for when you go crawling after the next woman who makes you feel like a real Alpha?” His jaw clenched, but I didn’t care. He was the one who lit this fire. I was just letting it rage. "That's enough," he said, shaking his head. "You don't have to be too sarcastic. I am just trying to find something that excites me." I scoffed. "Is that enough, James? I don't think so. I'm not some bored Luna you can toss a craft project at while you run off and ‘find yourself,” I snapped. “Don't act like this is some self-growth journey. Don't act like you're doing something great. You just want to cheat on me, don't you?” Still, he didn’t look at me. Coward. Open mating? Let's see how he feels when I find someone else to rut with! I gritted my teeth, anger making my wolf stir. “You want me to stay quiet. Keep the Luna title so you don’t lose my pack’s support. So you don’t lose the money. Or Ryker’s protection. You just want me to smile and nod and paint while you turn this pack into your personal playground, and fu.ck Miranda? Did I get it all right?” He gasped, and blinked. "Oh, I know it's her. I'm right, am I not?" I already knew she was the one he was going to start this new journey with. I had seen the subtle looks, the way she walked around him like she already owned him. I laughed a little. Oh, he was going to regret it. "It's not like what you think, Keya. I... I still love you." "Yeah? You love me? YOU LOVE ME?" I asked, my smile sarcastic. He opened his mouth like he might argue, but I cut him off with a glare sharp enough to wound. Because if he wanted freedom, I would give him exactly that, but I'd make sure he regretted every second of that freedom. "You're angry. Just think about it. You know... I love you, and I want what's best for us." He stopped toward me, like he was going to touch me. I winced, shaking my head. It was too hard to keep my composure, but I nodded. He didn't f*cking love me. "It's fine, James. You do what you want. I don't care." He blinked and then let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Key. I know you'll understand," he said it, as if I had agreed to his stupid proposition. How was he so obtuse? Had he always been a fool, or just pretending to be one? I didn't understand. He knew I didn't. He walked out of my room. I ran to the window and looked down, and there Miranda was. He hugged her out in the open, his hands sliding down her ass. She giggled, her hand subtly squeezing his co.ck. He let out a low growl. Oh, I might be innocent, but I wasn't a fool. I stood there and watched as my husband and his new mistress walked into the sunset, their faces flushed, like they couldn't wait for the time they could be alone together. I sighed and turned away. That night, I sat in the dark, thinking about him with Miranda, while my wolf seethed just beneath my skin. *** The next morning, when James walked into the room, he looked satisfied. His shirt was half-buttoned, his hair a mess like fingers had been tangled in it all night. His face was flushed, lips red, eyes heavy-lidded from sleep or something else. Something dirtier. And then I smelled it. I smelled Miranda on him. Sweet. Floral. Overpowering. Her scent clung to him like a second skin, coating every inch of his body. It was in his hair, on his hands, even beneath his nails. He didn't even have the decency to wash himself before coming to my room. My stomach lurched so violently I thought I might be sick right there. My fingers curled into fists at my sides, and my nails bit into my palms. I needed the pain. I wanted the pain, anything to ground me through the burning nausea rising in my throat. My wolf stirred, slow and irritated. She snarled. She didn’t like this. She didn’t want to see him like this—marked by another woman, reeking of betrayal and smug satisfaction. Her instincts screamed for blood, for dominance, for something primal and wild that I couldn’t afford to unleash. She was an Alpha, and she hated sharing what was hers. Stay calm, I told her, silently. Don’t give him the satisfaction. "I want to tear him into pieces," my wolf's thought bounced in my head. She growled in my chest, restless and livid, but obeyed—barely. I could feel her claws pressing against my skin, begging to surface, to shred something… to shred Miranda. James barely spared me a glance as he crossed the room, yawning like he hadn’t just destroyed what was left of us. I watched him with a cold detachment I didn’t feel. Part of me wanted to scream. Part of me wanted to weep. And part of me still wanted to beg him to come back to his senses. But I wouldn’t. That would be shameless. I wasn't shameless. He didn’t deserve my tears. He didn’t deserve my heart. Not anymore. I forced myself to turn away from him, my back to the man who had once been my world. The man who had just shattered everything with a few careless words, a few selfish choices. My stomach churned again, but I refused to let it show. No. I wasn’t going to let him see me falter. Not now. Not when he had chosen this path, leaving me in the dust like I was nothing more than a placeholder in his life. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. The heartache. The rage. I swallowed it all, stuffing it down into the pit of my chest, burying it beneath layers of ice and steel. It hurt—so f*****g much. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing it. He chose this and he wasn’t the only one who had choices. I could choose too. I could choose someone else over this madness. Someone who would make his blood boil when he saw us together. Someone who would make him regret ever thinking I was just some weak Luna to be replaced with the first warm body that caught his attention. A thought, sharp and bitter, flickered in my mind like a wildfire. I wasn’t just going to move on. Oh no. I wanted more. I needed more. I wanted revenge. I wanted to see him cry in pain. Before I rejected him. I wanted him to feel the same sting of betrayal, the same gut-wrenching realization that the woman he had taken for granted had moved on, had found someone else, someone better. Someone who could make him hurt the way he’d hurt me. And I’d make sure he knew. I’d make sure he saw me with someone who would touch me the way he never could, someone who would claim me in ways that would burn him—and make him regret ever thinking that my loyalty was something he could trample on. And when I found that someone, the one who would carry out this revenge, I would use him. Every touch, every kiss, every moment would be a dagger aimed at James's heart. I wouldn’t just break his heart. I would destroy it. And I’d watch James burn with a smile. (-)