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Beyond Betrayal, My Soul's True Mate

Beyond Betrayal, My Soul's True Mate

Strapped to the cold metal table in the hospital basement, I begged my Fated Mate, Alpha Marcus, for mercy. He ignored my tears. With a voice devoid of warmth, he ordered the doctor to inject liquid silver into my veins—a poison designed to dissolve the wolf spirit. "Do it," he commanded. "If she remains a wolf, she is a liability. As a human, she can stay as an Omega." I screamed as the silver acid ate through my soul, severing the connection to my wolf. Marcus didn't flinch. He wasn't saving me from my burn injuries; he was clearing the path for his mistress, Rachel, and their secret illegitimate son. Broken and wolfless, I was forced to watch him publicly claim his bastard child as the new heir. He thought I was submissive. He thought I would quietly fade into the servant's quarters to be his charity case. He didn't know I had cracked his safe and found the DNA tests proving his three-year betrayal. On the morning of his wedding to Rachel, I smiled as I climbed into the car that would take me to my "exile." Ten minutes later, my scheduled email exposing every lie hit the Council of Elders. And while Marcus fell to his knees screaming at the sight of my burning vehicle, realizing he had destroyed his True Mate for a fraud, I was already gone.
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Chapter 4

Sarah POV: The "Charity Gala" was being held on the pack's private river cruise ship. It was a display of wealth and power, intended to show the neighboring packs that the Darkmoon Pack was thriving despite the recent "tragedy" of the future Luna. I stood on the upper deck, gripping the railing. The wind whipped my hair across my face, stinging my eyes. Below, on the main deck, the party was in full swing. Crystal chandeliers tinkled in the breeze. Waiters circulated with champagne. Marcus was in the center of the crowd, holding a glass of wine. Rachel was beside him, not as a date—that would be too obvious—but as the "organizer." She wore a red dress that was cut low enough to be scandalous. I saw Marcus tap his glass with a spoon. The music stopped. "Friends, family," Marcus boomed, his Alpha voice projecting effortlessly. "Tonight is about the future. And speaking of the future..." He gestured to the side. Oliver, dressed in a miniature tuxedo, ran out. The crowd murmured. "This young man," Marcus said, placing a hand on the boy's head, "has shown incredible potential. Tonight, I am bestowing upon him the Young Wolf's Dagger." He pulled a ceremonial dagger from a velvet cloth. It was an ancient artifact, traditionally given only to the Alpha's direct heir. The crowd gasped. Giving this to an orphan? It was a declaration of intent so loud it shattered eardrums. I turned away. I reached into my purse and pulled out a small bundle of letters. They were the love letters Marcus had written me when we were teenagers. Before the power corrupted him. Before Rachel. I flicked my lighter. The flame danced in the wind. I held the corner of the paper to the fire. It caught instantly. I watched the ink curl and blacken, the promises of "forever" turning to ash. I let them go, watching the burning embers drift down into the dark water of the river. "Dramatic, aren't we?" I spun around. Rachel stood there. But before I could speak, her body contorted. Bones cracked and reshaped. In seconds, a reddish-brown wolf stood on the deck. She didn't shift fully—just enough to be terrifying. She stood on her hind legs, towering over me, her claws extended. "No wolf," she growled, her human voice distorted by her shifting vocal cords. "Wolfless freak." She shoved me. I stumbled back, hitting the railing. Without my wolf's strength, I was frail. My head cracked against the metal. "You don't belong here," she hissed, stepping closer. She grabbed my arm, her claws digging into the burn scars. I cried out. The pain was blinding. "Marcus doesn't want you," she sneered. "He pities you. You're just a placeholder until the ceremony is over." "At least I didn't have to trap him with a lie," I spat back, adrenaline giving me courage. Rachel roared. She swiped at me, her claws tearing the sleeve of my dress. Then, hearing footsteps on the stairs, she suddenly threw herself backward. She slammed into the railing and flipped over it, clinging to the edge with one hand, screaming. "Help! She's crazy! She's trying to kill me!" Marcus burst onto the deck, followed by a dozen guests. He saw me standing there, breathing hard, my dress torn. He saw Rachel dangling over the dark water. "Sarah!" he roared. He didn't ask what happened. He didn't look at my bleeding arm. He rushed past me and hauled Rachel up. She collapsed into his arms, shifting back to human form, naked and shivering, sobbing theatrically. "She tried to push me," Rachel wailed, burying her face in his chest. "She said I was trying to steal you!" Marcus turned to me. His eyes were glowing red—the sign of an enraged Alpha. "Is this true?" he demanded. "No," I said calmly. "She attacked me." "Liar!" Rachel screamed. "Look at her! She's jealous! She's insane!" Marcus took a step toward me. The air grew heavy. "SUBMIT!" He used the Alpha Voice. It hit me like a physical blow. My knees buckled. I collapsed onto the hard deck, my forehead slamming against the wood. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. The command forced me into a posture of total submission. It was the ultimate humiliation. An Alpha using the Voice on his injured, wolfless mate in front of strangers. "You are a disgrace," Marcus spat, looking down at me with pure disgust. "Get her out of my sight. Lock her in her room until the ceremony." Two guards grabbed my arms and dragged me away. I didn't fight. I didn't cry. As they dragged me down the stairs, I looked back at Marcus comforting Rachel. Two days, I told myself. Just survive.

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