Breaking the Bond with My Nine-Year Alpha Mate

Marcus's gaze softened as he looked at me. "I didn't mean to break your phone."

I didn’t answer. However, my silence seemed to ignite his fury.

His lips curled into a sneer. “Tsk. Don't push my buttons, Esther. I'm already humbling myself, but you're still acting like a brat!"

Gritting his teeth, he added, "Well, I shouldn't have asked. You have no one, Esther. I’m all you’ve ever had.”

Hearing his arrogant words, I laughed bitterly. “You’re right,” I whispered. “I was an orphan. My parents died when I was young, and then you found me. Give me a title, a place—a home.”

He didn’t speak, but I saw the flicker in his eyes—pride, perhaps, in the power he wielded over me.

“My whole world revolved around you, Marcus. I made you my sun, my stars. Every decision I made, every effort I gave—was for us.” I looked down at my wrists, still raw from the ropes, at the dry blood along my arm. “And you still managed to betray me.”

He inhaled sharply and said, "Don't make it sound like it's my fault. You knew all too well why I looked for my fated mate."

"But I'm your mate! You swore under the Moon Goddess' altar! How could you do this to me?—"

I wanted to say more. I wanted to scream at him.

But his phone rang.

His hand instinctively went into his pocket. After looking at the screen, a gentle smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Without a word, he turned away.

“You can call the pack healer yourself,” he said as he walked toward the door. “Technically, you’re still the Luna. I’m sure they’ll listen to you.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and I was alone again.

—

Later that night, the dining hall buzzed with quiet conversation and clinking cutlery. I sat at the far end of the long table, staring into my untouched bowl of soup, the steam rising like ghosts.

Across from me, Marcus and Ariella were nestled close—too close.

She laughed softly, tucking a golden strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned into him. “You always know just what to say,” she purred, touching his arm.

Marcus chuckled. “Maybe it’s because I finally have someone worth saying it to.”

My grip tightened around the spoon.

Ariella giggled again and playfully bumped her shoulder against him. “You’re such a charmer.”

“Only for you,” Marcus murmured, his fingers brushing a crumb from the corner of her lips. Slowly. Intimately.

I looked away.

A sharp sting bloomed in my chest, and I forced down the rising ache. The bond flickered, an echo of everything I was no longer allowed to feel.

Ariella glanced at me briefly, then smiled wider, like twisting the knife just a little deeper. “You don’t mind if we sit here, do you, Esther?” she asked sweetly. “It’s just... Marcus and I have so little time alone these days.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Words felt pointless.

Marcus didn’t even look my way.

—

For days, I holed up in the pack clinic just so I wouldn’t have to watch Marcus and Ariella fawn over each other like love-struck pups.

The bed was cold, too large for my frail frame. My blood had been nearly drained but they didn't care. I was the daughter of an Alpha, yes, but my body had always been fragile—a quiet curse I carried in secret. If not for my parents’ influence and strength, Marcus never would’ve looked twice at me, much less chosen me as his mate.

I curled onto my side, pressing a hand to the ache in my chest. The physical pain was nothing compared to the slow, seeping heartbreak that had turned to poison in my veins.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My phone buzzed continuously, the screen lit with messages, alerts, and social media pings.

I opened it, and there it was.

Photos—dozens of them.

Marcus was beside Ariella. Walking with her through the marketplace. Laughing with her under the plum tree, holding her hand as she fed the pack pups.

He had never done those things with me.

Whenever I asked to go sightseeing, he scoffed. “You’re the Luna. You’re not some idle girl chasing dreams. Do your duty.”

But Ariella... she wasn’t even officially Luna, and yet he paraded her like a treasure.

Tears blurred my vision.

Then I saw her latest post—her hand on her belly, Marcus kissing her temple, the caption read. [My fated one, my forever.]

I didn’t think.

I clicked comment.

[Congratulations on claiming what fate handed you. I hope your forever is everything my nine years weren’t.]

The moment I hit send, I stared at the screen until the ache became numb.

Being a chosen mate meant nothing when fate chose someone else.

I opened my messages.

[I’ll be leaving soon. I just need to finish a few things first. Be ready.]

The reply came instantly.

[I’ll be waiting.]