Betrayed by His Own Alpha

I gasped. The moment I opened my eyes, the world had shifted.

I was no longer in Prime’s room.

A massive arena stretched before me, the sky above shrouded in crimson haze. Surrounding the stone platform I stood on were thousands—no, tens of thousands—of wolves. Their eyes glowed in the dim light, watching in eerie silence. Rogues.

A shadow moved in front of me.

Prime.

He stood tall, his silver eyes reflecting the flickering torches lining the arena walls. His presence was unshaken, as if he had been expecting this all along.

“You feel it, don’t you?” His voice was calm.

I clenched my fists. My entire body was burning—not with fire, but with something deeper, something that reached into my bones and coiled around my very soul.

“What… did you do to me?” My voice came out strained, foreign.

Prime’s lips curved slightly. “I have cast the Ritual of the Hollowed.”

The words sent a ripple through the watching rogues. A hushed murmur spread among them, some stepping back, others standing rigid, as if the mere mention of it was enough to shake them.

I swallowed hard. “The what?”

Prime’s expression remained unreadable. “An ancient spell. Lost for centuries. Forbidden even among the strongest of our kind.” His gaze darkened. “It strips away what makes you weak. Fear. Regret. Love. Every emotion that binds you to the past.”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

Love.

Ezekiel’s face flashed in my mind. His voice. His warmth. His betrayal.

A sharp, twisting pain coiled in my chest. The mate bond, the one that still lingered despite his rejection—was unraveling, fraying apart thread by thread.

“It is not instant,” Prime continued. “The ritual lasts three days. Three days of agony, where your very soul will be torn apart and rebuilt.”

My breathing hitched. “And if I don’t survive?”

His gaze locked onto mine. “Then you die.”

Silence.

A cold, unrelenting silence.

I turned my head slightly, looking past Prime at the thousands of rogues surrounding us. They weren’t just watching, they were waiting. Expecting.

I could feel it in the air.

They wanted to see if I would make it.

If I was worthy.

Prime took a step forward. “There is no turning back, Viana.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I was afraid. My body screamed at me to run. But deep down, I knew there was nowhere left to go.

I had already lost everything.

What else was there to fear?

My lips parted. “I’m ready.”

Prime’s gaze lingered for a second longer before he stepped aside. Behind him, a structure stood—a tall, coffin-like chamber made of black stone. The door was slightly ajar, revealing a darkness so deep it swallowed the light.

“This is the threshold,” Prime said. “Once you step inside, there is no leaving until the ritual is complete.”

I exhaled slowly. Then, without another word, I walked forward.

The moment I reached the doorway, Prime’s hand pressed against my back. A single, forceful push.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

The door slammed shut.

The walls closed in.

I was trapped.

A space so tight I could barely move. My arms were pressed to my sides, my back against the cold stone, my head locked in place.

Then it began.

A sudden, unbearable heat exploded inside my chest. It wasn’t fire—it was worse. It was like my very soul was being dragged from my body, shredded apart piece by piece.

I screamed.

The pain was unlike anything I had ever known.

Every inch of me burned. My veins felt like they were being carved open, my bones splitting apart. My wolf howled inside me, thrashing against the invisible force that was tearing us apart.

No. No. No.

Ezekiel’s face surfaced in my mind again, his golden eyes, the way he used to look at me, the warmth of his touch—

RIP IT OUT.

The ritual obeyed.

The memory was yanked from me, ripped out so violently I could almost hear it shatter.

I gasped.

Another memory. Another wave of pain.

Ezekiel’s voice whispering my name—gone.

His scent—gone.

His touch, his love—gone.

The pain grew worse, consuming, endless. I clawed at the walls, my nails digging into the stone, but there was nothing to hold on to.

Everything was being erased.

I sobbed. I screamed. I begged.

And then...

Silence.

I was floating. Weightless. Empty.

For the first time in three days, there was no pain. No grief. No love.

Nothing.

And then—

The door opened.

A rush of cold air hit my skin.

I didn’t move.

“Viana?”

A voice. Deep. Steady. Familiar.

Prime.

I felt him step forward. He was close, his presence looming. “You survived.”

I did not answer. He exhaled. “Your emotions have been erased. Your fear, your pain, your love—they are no more.”

Silence.

I heard him shift, as if hesitating. “Are you—”

I opened my eyes. Prime stilled.

I stepped out of the chamber, my body light, effortless. The weight—the pain, the anger, the sorrow—it was all gone.

I walked past Prime without a word.

And then—

A sound. A single rustle.

Then another.

Then, as if a wave had crashed over the arena, thousands of rogues dropped to their knees.

Their heads bowed. Their voices rose as one.

“Hail, Bloodbane Queen.”

The words echoed across the vast arena, a chant that rumbled like a storm.

“Hail, Bloodbane Queen.”

“Hail, Bloodbane Queen.”

They were kneeling for me. They were swearing loyalty to me.

I lifted my gaze to the sea of wolves before me, the thousands who now bowed in reverence.

I should have felt something.

Pride. Power. Victory.

But I felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

Because Viana—the woman who once loved, who once cried, who once bled for the mate who betrayed her, was gone.

And in her place, a Queen was born.