Bound to the Broken Alpha

The day my half-sister Mabel Morgan entered the Crimson Fang Pack as its new Luna, she forced me to attend the ceremony with a decree from the Lycan King himself.

I tried to feign illness, but there was no escape. Reluctantly, I stepped into the grand hall where she was preparing for the marking ceremony. The moment I crossed the threshold, I heard the soft click of the door locking behind me.

"Tallulah," Mabel’s voice slithered from behind an ornate screen adorned with silver and moonlight motifs. Her eyes gleamed with malice as she stepped into view. "I’ve been waiting for you."

She smiled, a predator’s smile, and spoke three truths—a rare and dangerous gift she possessed. "May you be rejected by your mate and forced into a bond with a rogue. May you never bear children, and may your life be filled with shame and disgrace."

Before I could react, Cruz Ellis, the rogue she had named, burst into the room, his aura crackling with anger.

"Tallulah Ellis," he growled, his voice low and accusing. "You’ve dishonored the Silver Moon Pack. To think you’d stoop so low as to bond with a rogue like me. You’ve humiliated us all."

Rogue?

What was he talking about?

I stared at him, stunned, but before I could defend myself, others began to gather around, their voices rising in unison, each one confirming the impossible.

"I saw it with my own eyes," one Delta said, his tone harsh. "Tallulah was seen with Cruz in the forest during the pack run. She’s tainted the pack’s honor."

"Disgraceful," another sneered. "She deserves to be cast out."

The accusations piled up, each one more damning than the last. They claimed I had bonded with Cruz willingly, that I had betrayed the pack’s trust. But it wasn’t true. I had been at the pack’s healing center, tending to our injured Beta, Jerry Anderson. How could I have been with Cruz?

"I didn’t do this!" I protested, but my voice was drowned out by the crowd’s jeers. Even my own memories seemed to shift, as if Mabel’s words had rewritten reality itself. Someone even told me that Jerry Anderson had passed away years ago, that I was delusional to think he was still alive.

"Sister, please," Mabel interrupted, her voice trembling with false concern as she dropped to her knees before me. "Tallulah made a mistake, but she’s still family. Please, have mercy on her."

Her act was flawless, and the onlookers were moved by her apparent devotion. Even Cruz’s anger seemed to waver, though his eyes remained hard.

"Fine," he said coldly, his gaze locked on mine. "If you’re so desperate for a rogue, then I’ll give you one. You’ll bond with me, and you’ll live with the shame of it."

The crowd parted, and there he stood—Cruz Ellis, a rogue with a scarred face and a damaged aura, his wolf’s presence weak and fractured.

And just like that, I was bound to him, a rogue, in a ceremony that felt more like a punishment than a union.