Goodbye, Mate

When the rogue's claws plunged into my flesh, I could feel every ounce of agony, but what hurt more was the cold indifference of my mate, the Alpha. It was the tenth anniversary of his first meeting with his first love, and he was celebrating, oblivious to my plight. Without a wolf spirit to defend myself, I was helpless.

As the rogue tore into me, I managed to send a desperate mindlink to him, but his response was as cutting as the rogue’s attack. "Don't think this will catch my attention. You're nothing but a pathetic clown!"

Oddly, a part of me felt relief. At least he wouldn’t come and get hurt. Right.

Three days later, our pack was thrown into chaos. The body of a brutally murdered woman was discovered, stirring fear and alarm among everyone. As the Alpha, he took it upon himself to find the killer, dissecting every detail of her torment with cold precision. "She fought 'til the very end," he marveled at her fierce will to survive, piecing together each moment of her suffering with a detached intellect.

However, he failed to realize that the murdered woman was his most hated mate—me, his Luna.

***

My body was found in a garbage dump.

Early one morning, an omega maid, going about her routine, lugged heavy trash out to the dump.

Suddenly, she was tripped by a black bag on the ground and the bag burst open, its contents spilling across the ground. Her heart stopped when she saw what had tumbled out—a human leg bone.

“Oh my Goodness! What…” She screamed, her cry echoing through the quiet air, drawing a crowd. Fear and curiosity mingled as wolves gathered around, staring in horror at the bloody flesh.

As they searched the dump, more horrors emerged. Other bags were torn open, revealing dismembered body parts hidden among the garbage. The realization that someone had been brutally killed and discarded like trash sent a wave of terror through the pack. Whispers of panic spread quickly. Who could do such a thing? And who would be next?

To calm his terrified pack, my husband, Alpha Chris Camelon, stepped forward. As the alpha of Blue Moon Pack, he had seen many killings before—traitors, enemies, even members of rival packs. He was no stranger to violence and bloodshed. But this was different. This was beyond anything he had encountered.

Determined to find answers, Chris led his pack members through the night, tirelessly searching for the place where the crime had happened. The scene they found was like a nightmare. Blood stained the ground in ominous patterns, some splattered in wide arcs, others pooling in dark, sticky patches.

"This is too cruel," Chris murmured, his voice filled with a mix of anger and disbelief. "It looks like several people tortured one person to death."

Robert, his Beta and closest friend, looked puzzled. "Why do you think that, Alpha?" He asked, trying to understand.

Chris pointed to the evidence around them. "Look at these circular bloodstains. They’re up to a meter wide, which means something was cut out from the victim’s body here. And see these handprints on the walls? Some are deep, as if the person was struggling. The victim was conscious while being tortured."

Upon hearing that, Robert shook his head, the horror of it all sinking in. "The pack healer said the victim was a young woman under thirty. What kind of hatred could drive someone to do this?"

Chris’s face darkened with suspicion. "This isn’t a simple accident. There’s something bigger going on. This kind of torture suggests a deeper conspiracy."

As he spoke, I watched from the sides, a silent observer in a spirit form. My heart ached while looking at them. Even in the face of such horror, my mate was sharp and determined. He was already putting together the pieces of the puzzle. Now, I wondered how long it would take him to discover the truth?

Amidst the grim scene, someone found a ring. It was covered in blood, its once-shiny surface dulled by the grime. Chris picked it up, his brow furrowing as he examined it.

"Alpha, this ring looks a lot like your mateship ceremony ring," Robert said quietly, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Chris paused, turning the ring over in his hand. The inside was smooth, with no inscriptions or markings. "It might just be a similar design," he replied, though his tone was hesitant, as if he was trying to convince himself.

He stood there for a long time, staring at the ring. Finally, he tried to reach me through our mindlink, a bond that allowed us to communicate telepathically. When I didn’t respond, anger creased his features. He cut off the connection abruptly. "Always with the silent treatment," he muttered. "Don’t respond then! It can’t be her anyway."

He was confident because our wedding rings had our initials engraved on them.

But, my dear Alpha, there was something you didn’t realize. Engravings on metal are easily worn away.

It only took me three months to wear down the initials of our names.