The Mean Girl

Nadia

The next three days dragged past in heavy silence. My phone stayed dark on the nightstand, refusing to light up with Corbin’s name. There were no morning check-ins, no jokes, and no frantic requests for help with his pack training. He had erased me from his life as if eleven years of friendship meant nothing. Even during our worst fights, Corbin never went twenty-four hours without barging through my door to split a pizza. Something felt wrong.

The bedroom door clicked open. Mom walked inside carrying two formal gowns. One was soft pink silk, delicate and sweet. The other was deep purple satin with an elegant cut across the bodice.

Mom held them up against the light. "Where is your mind today? Which color do you prefer?"

"Either is fine," I mumbled, my attention glued to the nightstand.

A sharp chime cut through the room. My pulse leaped into my throat. I lunged across the rug and grabbed the phone, but it was only an automated battery alert.

The air felt thin in my chest. "Mom, something happened to him. What if he crashed his truck?"

Mom walked over, patting my shoulder with a gentle, pitying look. "He is not hurt, sweetheart. He went away on a weekend trip with his new girlfriend two days ago."

The blood drained from my face. "What?"

Mom smoothed down the purple gown with a quiet sigh. "He called our pack beta to pull strings for last-minute flights. Apparently, the girl only flies first class. The beta agreed because Corbin used your name as the alpha’s daughter to get the tickets."

The words landed like a physical blow. Corbin had never taken a girl on a trip. His crushes always followed the same cycle: he fell for a pretty face, realized she was shallow, and came running back to my window within days. I had endured every girl, clinging to the pathetic hope that he would finally choose me.

Giselle had destroyed that illusion. Corbin was lounging in first class with a stranger, using my family’s name while tossing me aside.

Mom squeezed my arm. "It is time to let him go, Nadia. Focus on your future."

The cold weight in my chest felt like true heartbreak. I had been discarded the second someone prettier appeared.

My gaze shifted to the gowns on the bed. A memory surfaced from high school, back when I wore pastel pink hoping Corbin would notice me, only to watch him gawk at a girl in dark silk. I had stayed the quiet nerd in soft colors for far too long, waiting for a boy who treated me like a safety net.

I pointed toward the darker fabric. "The purple one. I will wear that."

Mom beamed with relief. "An excellent choice."

Two pack maids bustled inside with cosmetic kits, brushes, and styling pins. Usually, I hid behind oversized hoodies and messy hair. Today, I sat quietly on the vanity stool. I let them curl my dark hair into glossy waves, brush rose tint over my cheekbones, and paint my lips with rich berry gloss.

When they stepped back, I lifted my eyes to the mirror. The girl staring back was striking. The purple satin hugged my waist, the neckline framed my collarbones, and the makeup highlighted the gold flecks in my eyes.

"Is that really me?" I asked, my fingers grazing the silk.

Mom rested her hands on my shoulders. "You look gorgeous, Nadia. The visiting alpha will be stunned."

I met my own hardened gaze in the glass. "I will do my duty to our pack, Mom. Do not worry, I will not chase this alpha away."

I had pushed suitors away for Corbin. That foolish loyalty was dead.

By two in the afternoon, my parents and I waited in the formal reception parlor. The silver tea service gleamed, the decanters held aged whiskey, and the fireplace crackled with cedar logs. Everything was arranged to project wealth and respect.

We waited.

Three o'clock chimed, then four. The logs crumbled to gray ash, and the maid refreshed the tea twice. No convoy appeared on the driveway, and no sentry called through the radio.

Four grueling hours dragged past without a single word. Corbin had thrown me away for Giselle, and now an arrogant stranger was treating our pack like trash before setting foot through the door.

Mom squeezed my fingers. "The mountain passes are icy. The alpha has a reputation for keeping his word."

Across the hearth, Dad sat rigid, his hands trembling against his knees. Our eastern borders were weak, rogues were testing our patrols, and our accounts were nearly dry. This alliance was the lifeline we needed to avoid ruin. Dad looked ten years older, the crushing strain carving deep lines into his forehead.

Seeing my proud father reduced to silent panic wiped away my heartbreak, replacing it with searing fury. Who did this arrogant bastard think he was?

By eight at night, six full hours had passed.

Dad stood up, his voice flat. "Go change, Nadia. The staff can clear the room."

I marched up to my bedroom, tore off the purple gown, and scrubbed the makeup from my skin. I pulled on my worn flannel pajamas, but my anger refused to cool. I paced the floorboards, cursing Corbin, cursing the visiting alpha, and cursing my own weakness.

Near nine, I walked downstairs for water. A faint voice drifted from Dad’s private study, the door standing slightly open to spill yellow light into the dark hall.

I stepped closer, keeping my bare feet silent on the runner. Dad stood behind his desk, holding the receiver to his ear with slumped shoulders.

Dad spoke into the phone, his tone pleading and strained. "No, no, it is perfectly alright, Alpha. We understand that urgent matters arise. We can easily reschedule our dinner for tomorrow evening."

Nausea twisted in my gut. My father, an honorable leader, was groveling to the very man who had degraded us for six hours.

Something inside me snapped.

I shoved the study door open, strode across the rug, and ripped the receiver right out of Dad’s hand.

I shouted into the receiver with everything I had. "Who the fuck do you think you are? You think our pack and our time mean nothing to you?"

Dad lunged forward in shock. "Nadia! Hang up that phone right now!"

I dodged his reaching hand, pressing the handset tighter against my ear.

I glared at Dad before turning back to the line. "Enough is enough, Dad. This asshole can find another bride for all I care."

A heavy pause settled over the call. Then, a low, deep baritone voice rumbled through the speaker, cold as winter stone.

"Excuse me?"

I barked into the receiver, pouring all my rage and hurt into the words. "Yes, you are excused. You are wiped from our memory. I pity whatever woman gets stuck marrying you, because you are so self-centered and smug that you waited six hours before bothering to pick up a phone."

The alpha spoke up, a warning edge sharpening his deep voice. "You do not know what happened on the road—"

I shouted, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I do not care what happened. I hope the Moon Goddess gives you a taste of your own medicine one day!"

I slammed the heavy receiver down onto the cradle with a loud crack.

Dad stared at me in stunned silence, his mouth parted. My heart thumped against my ribs, but my mind was calm. I was done being the sweet, understanding girl who let people walk over her.

From now on, I was going to be the mean girl.