After My Mate Deceived Me, I Fled

The mind-link extraction continued, merciless in its invasion. Each memory pulled from the depths of my consciousness was another wound, another betrayal laid bare for all to witness. Through the haze of pain, I felt myself slipping into the past, reliving moments I'd tried so desperately to forget.

I was in the Alpha library, sunlight streaming through stained glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the ancient oak table. My fingers moved with practiced precision as I etched protective runes into Ethan's mate ceremony ring. Each stroke of the engraving tool was deliberate, infused with my hopes and dreams for our future.

"For strength," I whispered, carving the first symbol into the silver band. "For loyalty." Another rune joined the first. "For love that endures." The final symbol, most intricate of all, took shape beneath my careful hands.

Lyra purred contentedly within me, proud of our creation. This ring would bind us to Ethan forever, a physical manifestation of our devotion. I held it up to the light, watching as the runes caught the sun's rays, seeming to glow with an inner fire.

"He'll treasure it," I told myself, believing with all my heart that our love was unbreakable.

The memory shifted, dissolving into another that made my heart constrict painfully.

My mother stood in the doorway of my chambers, her Beta posture rigid and unyielding. Behind her lurked a slender figure—Victoria Reed, her eyes downcast in a perfect performance of demure grief.

"You will relinquish your quarters to Victoria," Luna Clara announced, her tone leaving no room for argument. "She requires the eastern exposure for her health."

"But these have been my rooms since I returned," I protested softly, clutching my journal to my chest. "All my things—"

"Will be moved to the smaller chamber by the kitchen," my mother interrupted. "This is not a request, Melissa. It is your duty to make amends for the debt our pack owes."

"A debt I had no part in creating," I whispered, immediately regretting my words as my mother's eyes flashed with anger.

"Her father died saving yours," Clara hissed. "Your insolence dishonors his sacrifice. This penance is the least you can offer."

Victoria stepped forward then, her performance flawless as she placed a gentle hand on my arm. "I'm so sorry to inconvenience you, cousin. If there were any other way..."

I saw the triumph gleaming behind her sympathetic mask, but no one else seemed to notice. Not even my own mother.

That night, I moved my belongings to the tiny room that smelled perpetually of kitchen grease and vegetable rot. Another piece of my dignity stripped away, another victory for Victoria.

The memory blurred, reforming into a scene that made my stomach clench with familiar rage.

I stood before my new dresser, frantically searching through my jewelry box. "It has to be here," I muttered, emptying the contents onto the bed. Bracelets, necklaces, earrings—but not the one thing I sought.

My grandmother's brooch. The silver moonflower with its center of pale blue moonstone, the last gift she gave me before her passing. It had been on my bedside table the night before, and now it was gone.

I knew. Even before I stormed up to my former chambers, I knew.

Victoria sat at my old vanity—now hers—admiring her reflection. The moonflower brooch glinted at her throat, its delicate petals catching the light.

"That's mine," I said from the doorway, my voice trembling with fury. "My grandmother gave it to me before she died."

Victoria's eyes met mine in the mirror, cold and calculating. "I found it in the corridor. I assumed it was a welcome gift."

"You took it from my table," I accused. "Return it. Now."

A commotion in the hallway interrupted us. My mother appeared, drawn by our raised voices.

"What is happening here?" Clara demanded.

Before I could speak, Victoria's face crumpled. Tears sprang to her eyes as she clutched at my mother's skirts. "I'm sorry, Luna Clara. I only wanted to wear something pretty for dinner. I didn't realize it would upset her so much."

"She stole it," I insisted, desperation making my voice sharp. "That brooch was Grandmother's—"

"Enough!" My mother's voice cracked like a whip. "Your jealousy is unbecoming, Melissa. Victoria has lost everything—her father, her pack. The least you can do is share."

"But—"

"Three days confined to your quarters," Clara pronounced. "Perhaps that will teach you some compassion."

As my mother led Victoria away, the girl glanced back over her shoulder. For just an instant, her mask slipped, revealing a smile of pure malice.

That night, I confronted her in the moonlit corridor outside her room—my room. "I know what you're doing," I hissed, backing her against the wall. "You won't get away with it forever."

Victoria's eyes widened in mock fear. Then, with a practiced wail, she collapsed to the floor just as my mother rounded the corner.

"Help me!" Victoria cried. "She threatened me!"

As Clara rushed to Victoria's side, cradling her like the daughter I had never been to her, I saw the future stretching before me—a future where every truth I spoke would be twisted, every defense I mounted would become evidence of my cruelty.

In that moment, standing in the cold moonlight, I realized I was fighting a war I could not win.