Claimed by My Bestie's Alpha Daddy novel Chapter 103

Amelia

Lady Maris’s handwriting looked like it belonged on an heirloom spell scroll, not a tea invitation. But I accepted. A gathering of Council spouses wasn’t exactly in my comfort zone, but Richard had barely gotten the words “you don’t have to go” out before I’d already picked out a dress. If I was going to stop being a novelty, I had to let them look.

The sunroom where we gathered smelled like lemon, polished silver, and an undercurrent of condescension. The table was set like a museum exhibit: porcelain as thin as eggshells, folded napkins with embroidered crests, sandwiches cut so neatly they looked factory-made. The women there wore designer grief and well-practiced smiles.

When I introduced myself, Margot, Councilman Aldren’s wife, barely looked up from her teacup.

“Oh. You’re younger than I expected.”

I let the pause sit too long. Then I smiled. “And you’re exactly what I pictured.”

There was the slightest sound of a stifled cough. I didn’t look to see whose.

Lady Maris raised her cup with a slight nod. “She’s sharp. I like that.”

The policy discussion came after. I wasn’t technically supposed to contribute. But when one donor, a woman with a perfectly stiff blonde bob and a diamond-studded wedding band that caught the light like a threat, casually suggested we re-segregate academic tracks for ” stability,” I felt my hand raise before I fully realized it.

“With respect,” I said, keeping my voice level, “if morale depends on exclusion, maybe the problem isn’t integration.”Every fork froze above every plate. All eyes turned to me. My chest pounded so hard I thought it might show through my dress.

Lady Maris didn’t blink. “Go on.”

So I did. I brought numbers. I brought names. I brought stories that weren’t just mine, but belonged to the wolfless girls who had written to me, spoken to me, cried in private and still showed up. I felt my throat tighten as I spoke, but I didn’t took away.

I talked about the first time I was left out of a shift prep class, the way my body learned to shrink into corners, the way my wolflessness was treated like a contagious illness. I told them about the hallway stares, about the counselor who said maybe I should stop trying so hard to belong.

No one clapped. But no one interrupted again either.

• As we were leaving, someone near the door said under her breath, ” The wolfless experiment’s gotten bold.”

I turned around and met her eyes.

“Lived experience tends to do that.”

By that evening, the phrase had gone viral. Wolfless experiment was all over headlines and video captions. But the context, my context, shifted it Reframed it. It didn’t sting. Not anymore.

That night, I took a long shower and called a list of campaign volunteers from the den. Emma made a nest of blankets on the floor while I sat with my laptop. We called donors, fielded questions. One girl cried just hearing my voice. She said she was wolfless too. Said she had never believed she belonged in the Pack until now.

I cried with her.

Later, I sat on the floor in silence, the letters from girls like her spread out around me. Their words filled the room like ghosts. I didn’t know how to carry all of it. So I tried to alchemize it into something else. I turned it into a speech. I rewrote it three times. Read it aloud until my throat went raw. Emma came and sat beside me halfway through the second draft. She didn’t say anything. Just passed me a water bottle and rested her head on my shoulder while I kept editing.

– When I finally came upstairs, the hall lights were dimmed, and the ballroom doors stood slightly ajar.

Richard was inside.

He stood near the window, half in shadow. His jacket was draped over a chair. He didn’t turn around when I entered, but he held out a hand.

“Dance with me.”

There was no music. Just the sound of our feet against the marble and the soft rustle of my skirt as he pulled me in. His hands found my waist, warm and familiar. My palms rested against his chest, over his steady heartbeat.

Richard

I sat in my office, the door only half shut, still able to hear her soft breathing in the next room. I hadn’t turned on the light. I didn’t need to.

The lamp over the bookshelves cast a low golden glow, just enough to make out the drawer where l’d hidden the ring.

I’d thought about giving it to her tonight. Thought about dropping to one knee in the ballroom and asking her to choose me forever, right there on the marble.

She would say yes. I knew she would. But I wasn’t sure it would be fair to ask her to carry that weight yet. Not when everything was still teetering.

Not when the world kept trying to take pieces of her.

I held the ring in my palm, closed my fist slowly around it, and took a long breath.Then my phone buzzed.

Unknown Number I hope she knows what she’s đoing.

It sounded like Jenny.

But it felt like Elsa.

The next morning, the headlines changed again.

DAVID TO HOLD BORDER RALLY, CHALLENGES ALPHA KING TO TELEVISED DEBATE.