Betrayed by My Beta Mate

The silence in my private studio felt suffocating after Julian's public humiliation. My hands shook as I locked the door behind me, the sound echoing in the small space I'd carved out for my most personal work. Luna paced restlessly within me, her confusion and pain bleeding through our connection.

"He used our bond against us," I whispered to the empty room, my fingers unconsciously touching the spot on my neck where Julian's mark still burned. The betrayal felt like poison in my veins, but beneath the hurt, something harder was crystallizing—determination.

I moved to my desk with mechanical precision, pulling out fresh notebooks and my laptop. If Julian wouldn't believe me, I'd gather evidence so overwhelming that even he couldn't dismiss it. My wolf whimpered, urging me to return to our mate, to submit and make peace. But my human mind was clearer than it had been in years.

"No, Luna," I said firmly. "He made his choice."

I started with what I knew. Evie's submission had been too perfect, too polished for someone who'd only recently shifted. The techniques she'd used weren't beginner-level work—they were advanced methods I'd spent years developing. But if she'd stolen from me, chances were I wasn't her first victim.

Opening my laptop, I accessed the pack's design database and began cross-referencing Evie's work history. The timestamps told an interesting story. Her first submission had been three months ago—a simple border pattern that had earned praise from the design council. But when I looked closer, something nagged at me about the style.

I pulled up Elena Hart's portfolio from the same time period. Elena was a senior designer, someone I'd worked with for years. Her signature style included delicate flourishes that took years to master. And there, in Evie's "original" border pattern, were Elena's exact flourishes.

My heart pounded as I documented the similarities, taking screenshots and noting the timestamps. But I needed more than visual evidence—I needed testimony.

I reached out through the pack's mind-link, carefully targeting Elena. *Elena, are you free to talk? Privately?*

Her response came quickly, tinged with curiosity. *Of course, Sylvia. Everything alright?*

*Can you come to my studio? I need to show you something.*

Elena arrived within minutes, her graying hair pulled back in its usual practical bun. She took one look at my face and closed the door behind her. "What's wrong?"

I turned my laptop screen toward her, showing the comparison between her work and Evie's. "Does this look familiar?"

Elena's face went pale as she leaned closer. "That's... that's my border pattern. From the Spring Festival project." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I wondered why the council seemed unimpressed when I submitted my portfolio for the advancement review. They said my work looked 'derivative.'"

The pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. "She submitted your work before you could present it officially."

"But how did she even access it? My preliminary sketches were in my private files."

I thought about Evie's sudden emergence in pack circles, her convenient friendship with younger wolves who had access to various departments. "She's been cultivating relationships. Gathering information."

Elena sank into the chair across from me. "I have the original sketches. Dated. Witnessed by my assistant."

"I need you to document everything. Timestamps, witnesses, original materials." I opened a new file on my laptop. "We're going to build a case."

Over the next hour, I reached out to three more designers through private mind-links. Maya Torres, a promising young warrior who did decorative work in her spare time, confirmed that her ceremonial pattern had appeared in one of Evie's submissions two weeks before Maya's official presentation. Daniel Cross, who worked part-time in archives while training for his warrior trials, discovered that his historical recreation project had been "adapted" by Evie for a recent heritage display.

Each conversation added another layer to the pattern of theft. Evie wasn't just plagiarizing—she was systematically stealing from pack members who were too junior, too specialized, or too trusting to immediately recognize the theft.

As I compiled the evidence, Luna's distress grew stronger. She couldn't understand why we weren't returning to Julian, why we weren't trying to fix our bond. The mate instinct was powerful, urging submission and reconciliation. But every piece of evidence I uncovered strengthened my human resolve.

"Look at this," I murmured to my wolf, showing her the timeline I'd created. "Five designers. Eight stolen pieces. All submitted under Evie's name over the past three months."

Luna whimpered, torn between her instinctual need for our mate and her growing understanding of the injustice we'd uncovered.

I saved the final document, my evidence now undeniable and comprehensive. Original sketches, witness testimonies, timestamp comparisons, and pattern analysis—everything an Alpha would need to render judgment.

But as I stared at the completed file, one thought echoed in my mind: Julian had chosen to protect this thief over his own mate. The sacred bond we'd forged three years ago, the connection blessed by the Moon Goddess herself, meant less to him than his political convenience.

That realization cut deeper than any physical wound ever could.