Dumping the Female Alpha

Dylan loved the female Alpha Lily, ever since she saved his life in a deadly ambush,he pretended that he was a homeless wolf,unaware he was heir to the region’s strongest pack.

Chapter 1

Dylan loved the female Alpha Lily, the aloof leader of the Silverclaw Pack, ever since she saved his life in a deadly ambush. To stay close, he pretended that he was a homeless wolf, enduring mockery as a weak mate, unaware he was heir to the region’s strongest pack.

At eighteen, they discovered they were fated mates, and Dylan thought he’d found his forever. But years later, Lily’s childhood sweetheart and Beta returned, bringing chaos to their bond. Dylan’s heart shattered when he found hidden photos of the Beta kept by his mate, realizing Lily had never truly loved him.

When Lily’s indifference became undeniable, Dylan decided to leave. “Lily, let’s end this mateship.” He wrote in the calendar's final countdown.

As he walked away, Lily finally realized her love for him. Now, she must fight to win back the mate she once took for granted. Will it be too late?

--

"Dad, Mom, I've decided to go back to our pack."

Hearing their son finally relent, his parents—Alpha and Luna of the formidable Crescent Pack—were thousands of miles away but sounded full of relief.

"Dylan, you’ve finally come around! Your dad and I can finally set our minds at ease! Take some time to prepare; we’ll get everything arranged, and in about half a month, our family and pack will be reunited."

Unlike his parents' cheerful and carefree tone, Dylan’s voice was low and indifferent.

"I understand."

After a few polite exchanges, the call was disconnected.

Outside, it was pitch black. Dylan sat in the dark, his eyes slightly red, betraying little emotion.

Half an hour later, the sound of footsteps came from the doorway.

Dylan didn’t get up to greet her like he used to. He stayed seated, watching quietly as the harsh white light from the ceiling lamp illuminated the room.

After changing her shoes and entering the living room, Lily noticed Dylan leaning against the sofa.

Lily was his fated mate, the Alpha of Silverclaw Pack. Dylan had been mated to the female Alpha for two years, yet they had never truly acknowledged their mateship through a wedding ceremony.

Since the previous Luna and Alpha—Lily's parents—had died because of pack wars, their only daughter had to step up as the female Alpha of the Silverclaw Pack. They had sacrificed themselves to protect the pack, leaving Lily to bear the heavy burden of leadership.

She raised her eyes slightly and asked Dylan, "Why aren’t you asleep yet?"

"I was waiting for you. Didn’t you see the messages I sent? I even tried to mind-link you."

His tone wasn’t particularly pleasant, but the female Alpha didn’t seem to care at all. She casually made up an excuse.

"I was in the pack office all day. I didn’t have time to check my phone, and I was too preoccupied to notice your mind-link."

Without waiting for his response, she took off her coat and headed into the bathroom.

Soon, the sound of running water filled the air. On the coffee table, her phone, left carelessly, started buzzing.

Recalling what he’d heard earlier that day, Dylan’s intertwined fingers trembled slightly.

He leaned forward, picked up her still-vibrating phone, and unlocked it with practiced ease.

The messages were from a contact with a blue bear avatar and the name "Oliver."

Oliver was the Beta of the Silverclaw Pack, though he had been away for the past two years to complete his university education. But his decision to leave had deeper roots.

When the pack wars had happened, Oliver's parents—the former Beta and his mate—had also been killed. Devastated by their loss, Oliver had taken up the position of Beta, but he had wanted to escape the constant reminders of his grief. That was the reason why he escaped the grief through going abroad to study.

The texts read,

[I had a great time today!]

[I’m home now! I can't wait to see you soon.]

The intimacy in the tone was unmistakable. Dylan scrolled up, revealing a message from 9 p.m. the night before.

[I'm going back to Silverclaw Pack today. Will you come pick me up?]

The reply followed immediately,

[Sure.]

Last night, Lily returned home at 8:50 and went to take a shower. She didn’t come out until an hour later.

So that’s what she was doing—replying to his messages.

Dylan’s lashes trembled slightly as he pressed his lips together.

He exited the chat and opened another, one with the name "Dylan."

From reminders about pack meetings and photos of her training with the wolf warriors to snapshots of her duties with the Omegas, the messages were a sea of white speech bubbles. Dozens of them.

All sent by him. None of them replied to by her.

The contrast between the two chats couldn’t have been clearer. How pathetic he was, playing the role of her nominal husband, her supposed fated mate.

Whether it was because he’d already decided to leave or because he had truly let go, Dylan found that the realization didn’t even hurt anymore.

He placed her phone back on the table gently, his mind a tangled mess.

He thought back to the first time he’d met Lily.

Dylan had been sixteen years old when he was ambushed. He remembered how many rival wolves had attacked him, to the point where he had nearly lost his life.

He was huffing, feeling like his world was ending, when suddenly the young sixteen-year-old Lily appeared and saved him.

At that moment, Lily—the powerful but young female Alpha—had just been passing by. Witnessing the ambush, she had decided to help.

From that very second, Dylan's obsession with her began. That moment was the start of Lily holding a piece of his heart.

Badly injured, Dylan had been taken to the Silverclaw Pack to heal.

When he stepped onto the unfamiliar pack’s grounds, he was already smitten with Lily.

"Do you really have nowhere else to go?" Lily had asked him.

He nodded, acting weak. "Yes. I am homeless. So please, take me in." His obsession with her left him no choice.

"Please, let me join your pack. Let me stay here," he had begged, the only way he could think of to stay by her side.

His parents—Alpha and Luna of the Crescent Pack—had been furious when they found out.

"Son, many are coming after your life as the only heir of Crescent Pack. How about your safety?" his mother had worriedly asked.

"You need to go home, Dylan. It's an order," his father had even used his Alpha command.

But Dylan resisted.

"No, Mom, Dad. Please let me stay here. I will be careful. I won't reveal my identity as the heir to the Alpha throne. But please, let me stay. I know she’s the one for me. I’ve never liked anyone this much."

Eventually, his persistence wore them down, and they let him stay.

For two years, Dylan lived in the Silverclaw Pack. Though young at sixteen, his infatuation with Lily had only grown stronger.

Over time, countless suitors pursued Lily, eager to win her over. But her aloofness meant she turned them all down, leaving broken hearts in her wake.

When they turned eighteen, destiny took an unexpected turn.

"Mate," Dylan had uttered under his breath. "You’re my mate."

Joy consumed him, but Lily’s reaction was the opposite.

Although she hadn’t rejected him outright, Dylan later learned why: she hadn’t done so because he reminded her of someone else—Oliver.

Even after they mated, she remained as distant as before, ignoring his messages, refusing his calls and mind-links.

Still, Dylan worked harder to maintain their relationship, convincing himself that her aloofness was simply her personality.

But two weeks ago, he stumbled upon something that shattered that belief.

Borrowing her computer, he had accidentally opened a folder. Inside were thousands of photos of one man—Oliver.

He later learned that Oliver had been Lily’s childhood friend. Their closeness as children had blossomed into Lily harboring feelings for him.

Before she could confess, Oliver had said, “I’ll study abroad. I need to get away from everything that reminds me of the death of my parents.”

For the past two years, Dylan had debated confronting her about Oliver. But before he could, he overheard someone say that the only reason Lily had agreed to mate with him was because he looked like Oliver.

With this knowledge, Dylan realized that she hadn’t truly let go of her first love.

For the first time, after enduring years of indifference, Dylan felt tired.

And so, he decided to leave—quietly, and for good.

Chapter 2

The night was quiet, the only sound in the packhouse being the faint ticking of a clock. Lily stepped out of the bathroom at exactly 11 p.m., her damp hair draped over her shoulders. Normally, this was when she would head to bed after her nightly alarm, but tonight, she walked straight to the study.

From his place on the couch, Dylan watched her go, his brows furrowing slightly. This wasn’t like her. Lily’s routines were as strict as her leadership. As the Alpha of the Silverclaw Pack, she prided herself on discipline and punctuality.

“Lily,” Dylan called softly, his voice low and cautious. She paused briefly in the doorway, turning only slightly toward him.

“What is it?”

“It’s late. Aren’t you going to bed?” His tone was careful, almost hesitant, as if afraid his question might push her away further.

She brushed him off with a wave of her hand. “I’ve got some pack business to finish. I’ll rest after I’m done.” Without waiting for his response, she disappeared into the study, closing the door halfway behind her.

Dylan sat there in silence, his sharp eyes locked on the sliver of light seeping through the crack in the door. He could hear the faint sound of her phone buzzing and the occasional soft laugh that escaped her. His chest tightened. It wasn’t pack business keeping her up—it was him. Oliver.

From where he sat, Dylan could see her, the faint smile on her lips and the way her fingers danced across her phone screen. That smile was like a knife twisting in his heart. In two years of being her fated mate, she had never smiled at him like that.

Dylan leaned back, exhaling deeply. For years, he’d held onto hope. He’d convinced himself that her coldness was just a barrier, one he could break through with time. But now, watching her smile for someone else, he knew the truth. Lily wasn’t incapable of love—she simply didn’t love him.

He whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the clock’s ticking. “She doesn’t want me. She never did.”

---

The next morning, Dylan woke early. He left the packhouse before dawn, walking to the nearest bakery in the neighboring town. By the time he returned, the sun was high, casting a golden glow over the Silverclaw Pack’s grounds.

Inside, Lily was already up, her hair tied in a loose ponytail. She sat at the dining table, scrolling through her phone, her expression unreadable. Dylan placed the bag of pastries on the table and sat across from her.

“I got breakfast,” he said simply.

“Thanks,” Lily replied, picking up a croissant without meeting his gaze. They ate in silence, the tension between them thick enough to choke on.

Halfway through the meal, Dylan broke the quiet. “It’s Saturday,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We were supposed to go to the neighboring territory today. Remember? For the festival.”

Lily paused mid-bite, her eyes flickering to him for the briefest moment. “Oh, right,” she said, her tone nonchalant. “I can’t make it. The Elders want to meet with me about pack strategy. It’s important.”

Dylan’s jaw tightened, but he forced himself to nod. “Next time, then.”

“Yeah,” she said, standing and grabbing her coat. “Maybe next month. We’ll see.”

She didn’t notice the way his shoulders slumped slightly, nor did she catch the way his gaze lingered on her as she slipped on her boots. Just as she reached for the door, something caught her eye—a countdown calendar on the table, the number 15 circled in bold red.

“What’s this?” she asked, picking it up and frowning. “What happens in fifteen days?”

Dylan tore off the top page, revealing the number 14 underneath. “Just something important I’m preparing for,” he said casually, avoiding her eyes.

“Important?” she repeated, tilting her head slightly.

“Yeah.” He offered her a faint smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Lily hesitated, her instincts prickling at his strange behavior, but she shook it off. “Alright. I’ll bring back some strawberry tarts later. See you.”

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Dylan alone in the quiet packhouse.

---

After finishing his breakfast, Dylan stood and began cleaning the packhouse quarters. As he worked, he gathered items into a bag—things he no longer needed, things that didn’t belong in a life he was leaving behind.

He picked up the couple’s aprons he’d bought for them during their first month together. They’d never been used. Next, he took down a set of paintings he’d chosen for her, ones that matched her preferences. Then, he pulled out an empty photo album, its pages still pristine, meant for pictures of them that were never taken.

As he packed each item, memories flooded his mind. He’d poured his heart into making this packhouse a home for them, a place where they could build a life together. But to Lily, it had always been just a place to sleep—a temporary dwelling, nothing more.

Dylan sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. Once he left, he knew Lily would likely move out. She might even build a new packhouse entirely. The life they had shared here, however empty, would be erased.

He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the bag of discarded items. “It’s for the best,” he murmured.

For the first time in years, he wasn’t clinging to hope. He wasn’t holding onto the dream of winning her love. Instead, he was letting go. And though it hurt, there was a strange sense of relief in the decision.

In fourteen days, he would leave. He would return to Crescent Pack and his family, finally free from the pain of being a fated mate who was never wanted. Lily might not even notice when he was gone, but that no longer mattered. For once, Dylan was choosing himself.

Chapter 3

The moon hung high in the sky, bathing the Silverclaw territory in a pale glow. Dylan leaned against the couch, exhausted from a day of cleaning. His phone felt cold in his hand as he idly scrolled through his social media feed, the empty packhouse around him echoing the hollowness in his chest.

A midnight photo caught his eye. A sprawling sky filled with stars, a lone girl’s silhouette holding a box of strawberry tarts in the corner of the frame. The post was from him—Oliver. Dylan’s thumb hovered over the screen, his jaw tightening as the realization struck him again.

He had been stalking Oliver’s account weeks ago, following his posts, his life, his interests. It wasn’t for curiosity's sake anymore; it was confirmation. The specific scent of cologne Lily always insisted he wear, the pens she bought for his minimal duties in the pack, and her obsession with strawberry tarts—all of it mirrored Oliver’s preferences.

“Was I ever more than just a replacement?” Dylan muttered bitterly, tossing the phone onto the couch. He ran a hand through his dark hair, his eyes clouded with memories.

For a moment, the anger surged, but it fizzled just as quickly, replaced by a numb acceptance. He had asked himself this question too many times. The answer never changed.

It was nearing midnight when Lily returned home, her long black coat swishing behind her. She didn’t have the strawberry tarts she’d promised, not that Dylan expected her to. She stepped inside, her sharp amber eyes scanning the room.

“Something feels… off. Did you move something?” she asked, tilting her head.

“I cleared out some unused items today,” Dylan replied, his tone casual.

Lily raised a brow but didn’t press further. “Hmm. Makes sense.” She shrugged, unbuttoning her sleeves and rolling them up.

Dylan watched the female Alpha from the corner of his eye, noting her ease, her complete disinterest in his words. If she cared, she would’ve noticed the missing vases they once bought together or the carefully packed boxes lining the closet. But Lily’s thoughts were elsewhere, as always.

“Where can I get a custom wolf wood carving?” she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Dylan blinked, caught off guard. “Wolf carving?”

“Yeah,” she replied, pulling out her phone and scrolling through a photo. Of course, that photo was familiar.

Dylan’s sighed heavily, but he masked it with a faint smile. “I can carve one for you.”

“You?” She paused, as if realizing the oddity of the request. For a moment, something like guilt flickered across her face. Perhaps because she was asking her fated mate to do something that was meant for another man. But it was gone in an instant. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

Dylan nodded, keeping his voice steady. “I’ll make it perfect.”

Late into the night, Dylan stayed at the small workbench in the corner of the packhouse, the rhythmic scraping of the carving knife filling the silence. He poured everything into the wooden wolf, tracing its sharp lines and delicate details with precision.

As he worked, his thoughts churned. Memories of the past two years played like a broken record. The knowing glances from other pack members, their cruel words whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

“I don’t know what she sees in him, I know that mateship is sacred, but having a weak man as our she-Alpha's mate is a bit...” one had sneered at a recent gathering.

“A nobody? Not even a power Alpha or a Beta? She deserves someone like Beta Oliver instead.”

“Maybe she just pities him. Poor guy doesn’t have the spine to stand up to her.”

Their words had cut deep, but Dylan had endured them for Lily’s sake. Now he realized that even if the pack didn’t want him, neither did she.

By the time dawn broke, the carving was finished. Dylan ran his fingers over the smooth surface, his hands trembling. “There. It’s done,” he whispered, exhaustion weighing down his voice.

When Lily came out of her room, he handed it to her. She took the piece, her eyes scanning it with a rare glint of appreciation. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

Dylan gave her a tired smile. “No need to thank me. As long as you’re happy…” His voice trailed off, but she was already walking away.

The days that followed were quiet. Lily was rarely home, spending her time with Oliver now that he was back from university abroad.

He overheard whispers from the pack as he walked through the territory.

“I heard Beta Oliver’s back days ago. Maybe Alpha Lily will finally have a real partner. Or even better, she'll marry him instead of that weak mate of hers.”

“That damn Dylan doesn’t belong here. She deserves someone strong.”

Their voices cut like knives, but Dylan kept his head down. He was used to it. Instead, he quietly packed his belongings, leaving the packhouse emptier each day.

One evening, his phone buzzed unexpectedly. The voice on the other end was hurried. “Dylan? It’s Ethan. Alpha Lily’s drunk. Can you come pick her up?”

“Drunk?” Dylan’s brows furrowed. Lily never drank to the point of being tipsy or worse, drunk.

Without hesitation, he shifted into his wolf form, his lean black figure racing through the forest toward the location Ethan had given him. The scent of alcohol and unfamiliar wolves reached him as he approached the private room.

The door was slightly ajar, and Dylan’s sharp hearing picked up faint murmurs.

“Lily, you’ve had too much,” a man’s voice said softly, laced with concern.

Dylan’s silently pushed the door open. Inside, he saw Lily leaning against Oliver, her amber eyes half-lidded as she whispered something only he could hear. Oliver’s arm was wrapped protectively around her waist, his expression a mix of worry and tenderness.

They looked like they belonged together.

Chapter 4

Dylan pushed open the door to the private room, his eyes instantly landing on Lily. She was drunk, leaning into Beta Oliver’s arms. The sight of them together stung, but Dylan’s face betrayed nothing—he had mastered the art of composure over the years. His gaze shifted from the sight of his mate, disoriented and vulnerable, to the Beta holding her.

“Hello,” Dylan said calmly, extending his hand to Oliver, his voice unwavering. “I’m Lily’s mate, Dylan.”

Oliver looked up, his expression tight with an awkward smile. He quickly straightened Lily, who was barely conscious, trying to rouse her from her stupor. “Lily, your mate is here. Wake up.”

The tipsy woman blinked a few times, confusion clouding her hazel eyes. Then, with a drunken slur, she mumbled, “You’re the real mate,” and leaned further into Oliver’s chest.

The room fell silent.

Dylan stood tall, his heart heavy, but he refused to show any hint of pain. He didn’t let the words strike at him. Instead, he reached into his bag and retrieved a small bottle of hangover pills. He held them out to Oliver. “She needs to take these.”

Oliver eyed Dylan for a moment, his grip on Lily loosening as he passed the bottle to her. Lily, still disoriented, took the pills with a faint murmur of thanks, and within moments, her face began to regain its color. The room waited, tension hanging thick.

Lily blinked again, her eyes slowly clearing. She pulled away from Oliver’s comforting embrace, standing unsteadily. “I mistook him for someone else…” she said quickly, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. She glanced at Dylan, clearly flustered, as if trying to explain away her actions.

Dylan smiled softly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” he said simply. “Let’s go home.”

But as they turned toward the exit, a group of Lily’s friends, a mix of Lunas, Alphas, and powerful wolves, blocked their path, their laughter filling the room. Most of them were friends of Oliver, and they insisted Lily stay.

“You’ve been so busy lately, Lily. You never spend time with us!” one of them called out, a Luna with platinum blonde hair.

Another Alpha, his arms crossed, grinned mischievously. “Let’s have a game! Come on, stay and play. It’ll be fun!”

Dylan’s gaze hardened as he looked at the group, but he remained silent. He knew these wolves were just looking for trouble.

“You should play Russian Roulette,” suggested one of the Alphas, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “The loser has to reveal a secret.”

Lily hesitated, but her friends pressed on, urging her to join. “It’ll be lighthearted, we promise. Just show us what’s inside your phone album, Lily.”

The room erupted in enthusiastic shouts.

Lily’s expression faltered. She didn’t want to play, but the pressure from her friends was palpable. Her eyes flicked to Dylan for reassurance, but he remained impassive, watching the scene unfold with quiet resignation.

Without waiting for a response, a few of Lily’s friends grabbed her phone when she wasn’t paying attention and opened the gallery. Their laughter faltered when they saw the pinned album titled “Oliver.”

The room grew deathly quiet. The photos of Beta Oliver were all there—images from his time studying abroad, along with screenshots of their video calls. It was clear, even to the most unobservant, that something more than just friendship had existed between them.

Lily’s heart sank. She reached out quickly to grab her phone back, standing up abruptly. “You all keep playing,” she said in a strained voice. “I’m going to the restroom.”

Without another word, she left the room, her footsteps echoing in the silence that followed her.

Dylan didn’t move at first. He stayed in the room, the bitter taste of betrayal lingering in his mouth. He wanted to leave. To leave her. But something held him there, an invisible thread of connection that bound him to his fated mate, no matter the pain.

A few minutes passed, and Dylan made a decision. He followed her.

As he reached the hallway, he heard voices coming from just outside the restroom. Lily’s voice was low, barely above a whisper, but it carried with the weight of a hidden truth.

“Everyone knows you’ve liked Beta Oliver for years but can’t admit it,” a Luna’s voice said. “I was just helping you get closure. Your mate deserves to know the truth too. Once the truth is out, he’ll back off.”

Lily’s response was sharp, filled with frustration. “My affairs are none of your business. Don’t meddle in my life again.”

Dylan leaned against the wall, his heart tightening at the words, but he did his best to remain composed. Deep inside, he knew the truth. But hearing it out loud, in the cold harshness of the words, made it all the more painful.

He chuckled softly, a sound devoid of humor, before turning to enter the men’s restroom. Once inside, he splashed cold water on his face, the icy shock jolting him into clarity. He needed to regain control—he couldn’t lose his temper now.

Grabbing his phone, he quickly typed out a message to Lily. “Let’s go. I’m waiting outside.”

Minutes later, Lily appeared in the hallway, her bag slung over her shoulder. She appeared calmer, though the slight tremor in her hands betrayed her true emotions.

As they reached the entrance, Dylan’s phone rang. It was his Luna mother, and he answered it without hesitation, his voice flat and emotionless as he replied to her concerns about an unrelated matter.

"Yeah, I'm ready to leave anytime soon."

When the call ended, Lily looked up at him, a question in her eyes. “Leave? Where are you going?”