After My Mate Called Me a Traitor, He Begged

I pulled on latex gloves with a snap, my face hidden behind a surgical mask as I entered the examination room. The scent of antiseptic couldn't quite mask the unmistakable odor of decay—the unmistakable smell of an Alpha dying from Mate Sickness.

"Patient is a thirty-two-year-old male," I read from the chart, keeping my voice clinically detached. "Presenting symptoms include jaundice, muscle atrophy, insomnia, and hallucinations."

Aiden Grant lay on the examination table, his once-powerful frame now gaunt and yellowed with disease. His eyes—once bright with Alpha authority—were cloudy and sunken. Even in this state, I could see the ghost of the man who had once commanded an entire territory with a word.

I approached him with measured steps, reaching for his wrist to check his pulse. The moment my fingers touched his skin, a violent static shock blasted through the room. Sparks actually visible between our flesh—the remnant of our severed mate bond protesting the contact.

Aiden's head snapped up, his clouded eyes widening as they locked onto mine. His hand shot out, gripping my wrist with surprising strength for a man so close to death.

"Ashlyn?" he gasped, his voice breaking on my name.

I didn't flinch. Five years of practice had perfected my mask of indifference. I gently but firmly pulled my wrist from his grasp, taking a step back.

"My name is Elliott," I said, my voice flat as I checked his chart again. "And you are dying, Alpha."

---

"You're lying," Aiden insisted, his eyes never leaving my face. "I know what I felt. You're her—my Ashlyn."

I sighed, replacing his chart at the foot of the bed. "This is a common symptom of late-stage Mate Sickness. The brain, deprived of the mate bond, begins to create hallucinations—usually manifesting as seeing the deceased mate in strangers."

"I am not hallucinating!" Aiden's voice rose, a shadow of his former Alpha command. He tried again, focusing his remaining power into his words. "Look at me, Ashlyn. I command you as your Alpha."

Nothing happened. No compulsion. No response.

I smiled thinly behind my mask. "As I explained, I am Elliott, a healer. And you are experiencing neurological degradation. Your Alpha commands have no effect on me because you're too weak to project them properly."

Aiden's face crumpled in confusion. He reached for me again, but I stepped back, removing a syringe from my pocket.

"This will help with your symptoms," I said, injecting him before he could protest. "The hallucinations will subside temporarily."

As the sedative took effect, I watched his eyes struggle to focus on me. Doubt crept into his expression for the first time.

"Am I... going mad?" he whispered before slumping back onto the pillow.

---

I was documenting Aiden's condition when the door burst open. Griffin stood there, his arms laden with medical supplies, his eyes immediately locking on our patient.

"What is he doing here?" Griffin demanded, setting down the supplies with a thud.

Before I could answer, Aiden's eyes flew open. Despite the sedative, he was still conscious enough to recognize the man standing over him.

"Griffin," he rasped, his voice filled with sudden fury. "Traitor."

Griffin's expression hardened as he approached the bed. "You don't get to call anyone a traitor, Aiden. Not after what you did."

Aiden tried to rise, but his weakened body betrayed him. Griffin placed a hand on his chest, shoving him back down with barely contained violence.

"You killed Ashlyn Stone five years ago," Griffin said, his voice low and dangerous. "This woman is Elliott. Nothing more."

Aiden's eyes darted between us, confusion and desperation warring on his face. "She's lying. You both are."

I stepped forward, positioning myself between them. "Enough, Griffin."

Griffin stepped back at my command, but his eyes never left Aiden's face. "If you touch her again, I will finish what the sickness started."

I turned to face Aiden fully, allowing him to see my eyes—cold and empty of any trace of the love we once shared. My gaze traveled deliberately over the scar on my neck, a permanent reminder of what he had allowed to happen.

"Get some rest, Alpha," I said, my voice dripping with disgust. "You have a long recovery ahead."

As I turned to leave, I saw something break in Aiden's eyes—something far more devastating than any physical blow could inflict.