7 Years in Prison for My Mate—He Made Me Kneel

Two days later, I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the great hall floor when Sterling's roar shook the entire pack house.

"TRAITORS! Find the spy!"

His voice echoed off the stone walls like thunder, making several omega servants drop their cleaning supplies. I kept my head down, methodically working the brush in small circles, but inside my silver wolf purred with satisfaction.

The Western Territories pack—Sterling's most crucial alliance—had severed all ties this morning. Anonymous evidence of illegal dealings, Council violations, unauthorized territory expansion. Without the western hunting grounds, winter reserves would suffer. Without their trade routes, the pack's economy would shrink.

It was beautiful.

Sterling stormed through the hall, his boots echoing against the stone I'd just cleaned. Beta Derek followed close behind, his face grim.

"The Western Alpha received photographs, Sterling. Detailed documentation of the rogue wolf agreements. Someone's been in your office."

"Impossible," Sterling snarled. "Only pack leadership has access—"

His words cut off as his green eyes found me. I kept scrubbing, playing the perfect picture of subservience, but I could feel his suspicion like ice water down my spine.

"Search everyone," he commanded. "Every servant, every omega. Someone is feeding information to our enemies."

I dipped my brush back in the soapy water, letting my shoulders slump in practiced exhaustion. Let him search. The camera was long gone, passed to Chase's people the night before.

Footsteps approached, and I glanced up to see Arianna descending the main staircase. Her auburn hair was perfectly styled, her blue silk dress flowing around her like water. But her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Sterling," she called, her voice trembling. "Something terrible has happened."

He was at her side instantly, his hands cupping her face with the tenderness he'd once shown me. "What is it, love?"

"The Chalice," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "The sacred Chalice is broken."

The hall went dead silent. The Chalice of the First Alpha—a relic passed down through three generations of pack leadership, used in every mating ceremony, every Alpha succession. It was priceless, irreplaceable.

Sterling's face went white, then flushed with rage. "Where?"

"The trophy room. I went to dust the display cases this morning and found it shattered on the floor." Arianna's sobs grew louder. "I saw her, Sterling. This morning, I saw her near the trophy room."

Every eye in the hall turned to me. I looked up from my scrub brush, confusion painted across my features. "Luna?"

"I didn't want to believe it," Arianna continued, her voice breaking. "But she must have been so angry, so full of hatred for what she's lost—"

"No," I breathed, genuine shock coloring my voice. "I would never—"

Sterling's hand shot out, gripping my arm and hauling me to my feet. The bucket of soapy water overturned, spreading across the stone floor I'd just cleaned.

"You destroyed it," he growled, dragging me toward the center of the hall. "Three hundred years of pack history, and you destroyed it out of spite."

"Sterling, I swear on my mother's grave, I never touched—"

His palm cracked across my face with the force of an Alpha's fury. The sound echoed through the silent hall, and I tasted blood where my teeth cut into my cheek.

"Your mother's grave?" His voice was deadly quiet now, more terrifying than his shouts. "Your mother was ashamed of what you became. A murderer. A disgrace."

Another blow, this one to my other cheek. Stars exploded across my vision, but I kept my feet.

"You're not just wolfless," Sterling continued, his voice carrying to every corner of the hall. "You're worthless. You destroy everything you touch. Your father. Our bond. Now our sacred relics."

I let my knees buckle slightly, let him see what he wanted to see—submission, defeat, a broken omega who couldn't fight back. Around the hall, pack members watched with a mixture of disgust and pity. Some looked uncomfortable, but none moved to intervene.

"Please," I whispered, the word barely audible. "I didn't—"

"Silence." His Alpha command pressed down on me like a physical weight. "You'll work double shifts until the cost of the Chalice is repaid. No meals until evening. No rest breaks."

He released me so suddenly I stumbled, catching myself on the wet stone. Blood dripped from my split lip onto the floor I'd just cleaned.

"Clean this mess up," he ordered, gesturing to the overturned bucket and spreading soap. "All of it."

As Sterling stalked away with Arianna clinging to his arm, I slowly retrieved my scrub brush. My cheek throbbed, my lip burned, but inside, my silver wolf was calculating. Arianna had played her part perfectly—the grieving Luna, the reluctant accuser. But I knew the truth.

She'd broken that Chalice herself.

The hours crawled by. I worked through the day without food, scrubbing floors, washing dishes, hauling laundry. My face swelled where Sterling had struck me, but I kept my expression neutral, accepting every pitying glance and whispered comment.

"Poor thing," I heard Margaret Hayes murmur to another elder. "Seven years in that place, and now this."

"Maybe she really did break it," someone else replied. "Prison changes people."

Let them think I was broken. Let them see exactly what they expected to see.

When midnight finally came, I slipped from the servant quarters and made my way to the southeastern border. My face ached with every step, but the manila envelope tucked inside my jacket made it worthwhile.

Chase was waiting in the same clearing, his massive frame tense with alertness. When he shifted and saw my swollen face, a protective growl rumbled from his chest.

"What happened?"

"Sterling's feeling the pressure," I said simply, pulling out the envelope. "These are from his office—unauthorized territorial claims, correspondence with rogue wolves, financial records showing payments to mercenaries."

Beta Marcus Stone emerged from the shadows to accept the documents, but Chase's amber eyes never left my face. His jaw clenched as he took in the bruising, the split lip.

"This ends now," he said quietly.

From his jacket, he produced a small tin of healing salve. "From our pack healer. It'll help with the swelling."

When he pressed the tin into my palm, our fingers brushed. The mate bond flared to life, warm and electric, sending healing energy through my battered body. For just a moment, the pain receded.

"Three days," Chase said, his voice steady and sure. "I'll initiate the Council investigation."

I nodded, already sliding back toward Shadowcrest territory. "Three days."

Sterling thought he'd broken me tonight. He thought his fists and his fury had reduced me to nothing.

He had no idea he'd just sealed his own destruction.