After My Alpha Betrayed Me for Royalty

I left Ryan's office with my legs barely supporting me, each step sending shockwaves of betrayal through my body. The mate bond still hummed between us—damaged but intact—despite his formal rejection. Something was terribly wrong.

The morning light felt too harsh against my skin as I stumbled through the corridors. Pack members scattered at my approach, their eyes downcast, reeking of guilt and fear. They knew. Somehow, they all knew what was happening to their Luna.

By midday, the dizziness I'd been fighting for weeks returned with a vengeance. My vision swam, dark spots dancing at the edges as I braced myself against the wall. I needed answers, and there was only one place to get them.

The healers' quarters were tucked into the east wing of the pack house, a place of herbs and ancient remedies. I pushed open the heavy wooden door just as my knees finally gave out.

"Luna Sophia!" Healer Elara rushed forward, catching me before I hit the floor. Her gentle hands guided me to a cot, her concerned face swimming in and out of focus above me.

"I need..." My voice sounded distant even to my own ears. "I need to know what's happening to me."

Elara's hands trembled slightly as she pressed a cool cloth to my forehead. "Rest now, Luna. I'll run some tests."

I drifted in and out of consciousness as she moved around me, drawing blood, checking my vitals, murmuring incantations over herbs and potions. The scent of sage and moonflower filled the air, comforting in their familiarity.

When I opened my eyes again, the light had changed. Late afternoon. I'd been here for hours.

Elara stood with her back to me, speaking in hushed tones with Beta Marcus Wells near the door. I kept my breathing even, feigning sleep.

"—wolfsbane poisoning, there's no doubt," she whispered, her voice breaking. "The concentration in her blood... it's been administered consistently for months. She has perhaps two, maybe three months left if it continues."

"And you're certain?" Wells asked, his tone neutral but with an undercurrent of... satisfaction?

"As certain as I can be. The symptoms match perfectly—the weakness, the dizziness, the failure to shift fully during the last moon. Her wolf is dying, Beta Wells. And when a Luna's wolf dies..."

"The Luna dies with it," he finished for her. "Alpha King Ryan will want to know immediately."

My blood turned to ice in my veins. Ryan. My mate. The man I'd loved and supported for eight years. The man who had tried to reject me this morning. Had he been...?

I waited until their footsteps faded before opening my eyes. Slowly, painfully, I pushed myself off the cot. I had to get out before Wells returned. Before anyone knew I'd heard.

Wolfsbane poisoning. A slow, untraceable death for a werewolf. My mate was killing me.

I slipped out through the back entrance, clinging to shadows as I made my way through the pack grounds. Night was falling, bringing with it a silver crescent moon that seemed to watch me with sad eyes.

The pack's underground archives were rarely visited—a forgotten repository of our history and laws. I needed answers that only the ancient scrolls could provide.

The heavy iron door creaked as I pushed it open, dust motes dancing in the beam of my flashlight. Row upon row of shelves stretched into darkness, laden with scrolls and tomes that hadn't been touched in generations.

I moved to the section on mate bonds, my fingers trailing over leather bindings and yellowed parchment. There—a slim volume bound in silver thread, the symbol of the Moon Goddess embossed on its cover.

Hours passed as I pored over forbidden knowledge by moonlight. My eyes burned, but I couldn't stop reading. Page after page revealed truths that had been hidden from common knowledge.

"A true mate bond, blessed by the Moon Goddess herself, cannot be severed except by mutual consent or death," I read aloud, my voice echoing in the empty archive. "Any attempt to reject such a bond without both parties' willing participation will fail, causing pain but not dissolution."

That explained why Ryan's rejection hadn't worked. Our bond was true—had always been true. And he knew it.

Which left only one option for him to be free of me.

Death.

My hands shook as I closed the ancient book. The pieces fit together with terrible clarity. The wolfsbane. The alliance with the Lycans. Madison Harper. He needed me gone, but a formal rejection would raise too many questions among the packs. A natural death, however...

A sudden pressure built behind my eyes, a familiar sensation I hadn't felt in years. A mind-link trying to establish itself.

*Sophia? Sophia, can you hear me?*

The voice was deeper than I remembered, but unmistakable. Marcus Chen. My childhood friend. The Rogue King of the Northern Territories.

*Marcus?* I responded, hardly daring to believe.

*I felt your distress across the territories. What has that bastard done to you?*

Tears sprang to my eyes at the fierce protectiveness in his tone. *How did you—*

*We've always had a connection, Silver Girl. Even before our wolves awakened. Tell me what's happening.*

As the crescent moon watched through the small archive window, I poured out everything—Ryan's betrayal, the failed rejection, the wolfsbane poisoning, the Lycan alliance.

*I'm dying, Marcus,* I admitted finally. *And I don't know what to do.*

His response came instantly, burning with conviction: *You fight. And you're not alone. I'm coming back, Sophia. And when I do, we'll make him pay for every drop of poison, every lie, every betrayal.*

For the first time since I'd entered that grand hall and seen Ryan with Madison, I felt something other than despair. A tiny spark, fragile but growing.

Hope.

*How long?* I asked.

*Three days. Hold on for three days, Silver Girl.*

As I replaced the ancient tome and slipped out of the archives, I felt my wolf stir within me. Weakened but not defeated. Not yet.

Ryan thought he was killing a docile Luna who would fade away without a fight. He had forgotten who I was before I became his mate.

He had forgotten that silver burns as well as shines.