Always And Forever | ENG

Chapter One: The Alpha's Choice

If someone had told me years ago that this moment would define my life, I would've laughed until I couldn't breathe. Me, an Alpha? Impossible. Dean was the heir. Dean was the one who lived and breathed pack life. Not me. Never me.

But as I stood there, my father's words hanging in the air like a storm cloud about to burst, my heart sank, and my stomach twisted into knots.

"Let it be known," my father's commanding voice echoed through the hall, silencing the murmurs of our pack members, "that my daughter, Finley, shall inherit the title of Alpha."

Time stopped. My father's words didn't just surprise the pack—they hit like an earthquake, shifting the ground beneath my feet and threatening to crack everything wide open.

I froze, my hands gripping the armrests of my chair so tightly I thought the wood might splinter. I barely breathed, afraid that if I moved, everything would shatter.

The silence that followed his proclamation wasn't relief—it was a vacuum, a space filled with disbelief, judgment, and the weight of every eye on me.

I wanted to disappear.

Across the room, Dean's face was a portrait of betrayal. His jaw tightened, his lips pressed into a thin, furious line, but his eyes—those sharp blue eyes we shared—pierced through me with such force I flinched. His emotions were so loud I felt them in my chest: anger, shock, disbelief. And beneath all that, something sharper. Something dangerous.

Betrayal.

I didn't ask for this. I wanted to scream it at him, at everyone. I didn't want this responsibility, this spotlight, this curse. I wasn't ready. I wasn't worthy.

Dean was the golden child, the prodigy, the heir. He'd been training his whole life for this moment, and now—
Now it was mine.

"Father," Dean's voice was low, like the first growl of a storm. "You can't be serious."

The tension in the room thickened. I could barely draw a breath, and when I did, it felt like the air was filled with shards of glass.

"I am," my father replied, his tone steady and final. "This is not a decision I made lightly. It is one I made after years of consideration. Finley has shown qualities of leadership—qualities this pack needs."

Leadership? Qualities? What was he talking about? I had no such qualities. I wasn't the strong one, the responsible one. I was... me. Messy, reckless, stubborn me.

Dean let out a bitter laugh, his shoulders stiff as he stood. The room shifted with him, the air humming with anticipation. "What's best for the pack? A leader who doesn't even want the role?"

My cheeks burned as every gaze turned toward me. Heat prickled under my skin, and my heartbeat roared in my ears.

"Dean—" My voice cracked. Weak. He cut me off with a glare so sharp it could've sliced me in two.

"Stay out of this," he snapped, his voice cold and commanding. "This isn't about you, Finley. It's about what's right."

His words hit me harder than I expected. It wasn't about me? Then why did it feel like I was standing on trial, my every flaw being cataloged and judged?

The truth was, I agreed with him. He deserved this title more than I did. He was trained for it, born for it. He carried the expectations of the pack with pride while I avoided them at all costs.

"Dean," my father interrupted, his voice softening but losing none of its authority. "If you have concerns, you are welcome to challenge me. But this decision is final."

Dean's fists clenched at his sides, his body trembling with barely-contained fury. My stomach churned as I waited for him to explode, to lash out, to—

He turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the doors behind him.

The sound echoed through the hall, and I flinched again.

"Finley." My father's hand settled on my shoulder, steady and grounding. "I know this is a lot, but you must trust me. I believe in you, even if you don't yet believe in yourself."

I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that I wasn't cut out for this. That I wasn't ready. But the words lodged in my throat, heavy and immovable.

The pack murmured as they began to disperse, some sneaking glances at me, others openly staring. I felt like a lamb being led to slaughter, their eyes full of doubt and curiosity and—worst of all—judgment.

"Great speech," a voice drawled behind me, thick with sarcasm. I turned to see Cleo leaning against the far wall, her dark eyes glinting with amusement.

"What are you even doing here?" I snapped, my voice harsher than I intended.

Her smirk widened as she pushed off the wall and sauntered closer. "Oh, don't mind me. I just couldn't miss this little spectacle. You, the new Alpha? It's like watching a drama unfold in real time."

"Not helping, Cleo," I muttered, my fists clenching at my sides.

"Relax, darling," she said, her voice mockingly sweet. "I'm just here to enjoy the show. And trust me, it's going to be a good one. Two weeks. That's how long I give you before this pack tears itself apart."

Something inside me snapped. "Get out," I hissed, my voice trembling with suppressed rage.

She blinked, genuinely surprised by my outburst, but her smirk quickly returned. "Oh, Finley," she purred, brushing past me. "You're going to be so much fun to watch."

As she disappeared into the shadows, my chest tightened, and the walls of the room seemed to close in around me. The murmurs, the stares, the weight of my father's expectations—all of it pressed down on me, suffocating and relentless.

I didn't want this. I didn't want any of it.

But it didn't matter what I wanted.

This was my reality now. And I had no idea how to survive it.