He Begged for My Love After He Wasted It

Silas told me he would be leaving for a summit with the Northern Council, a routine exchange between packs that the Alphas called diplomacy.

“Three days,” he said as he ran a hand through my hair in that practiced, gentle way. “I’ll call every night.”

He kissed my forehead and I smiled back, performing the role I had perfected.

I watched the convoy drive through the pack gates with its tinted windows and uniformed guards, and when the last vehicle disappeared I turned away and headed straight for the security wing of the Alpha residence.

I had been watching him for weeks, noticing the small habits he never thought mattered.

He tapped his thumb twice before entering a code, he forgot to switch camera feeds when he rushed, and people always stepped aside because no one wanted to test an Alpha’s domain.

Those gaps were all I needed.

The workstation in his office was still logged in when I arrived, his profile active on the screen as if he had only stepped out for a moment.

I sat in his chair, inhaled to steady myself, and opened the internal network. The medical archives were where they always were.

My mother’s file appeared immediately.

The diagnosis made my stomach drop: Critical organ failure.

The resolution line showed that the transplant had been approved through Alpha authorization.

Beneath it the recipient’s name was listed. Lyria Stone, Elara’s sister.

I sat with my hands on the desk until the truth settled. I did not break down in tears. Instead, something inside me narrowed until it was all focused.

My mother had not simply died of illness, her body had been taken to save someone else. Although her condition was terminal, she should still be able to live a few more months to a year.

If Silas didn't take her organs out, my mother won't die prematurely.

I leaned back in Silas’s leather chair and looked around the office that had once felt like the center of my life.

I clenched my fist and thought of how my mother had always treated Silas like a son. Silas had said Elara’s family had helped him when he was at his lowest, but he did not know that it had been my mother working behind the scenes.

She had done it quietly and without wanting recognition because kindness had been who she was.

But I was not my mother. I would not be kind in return.

A life for a life was the rule I would follow. He would regret what he had done.

I began collecting evidence immediately. I took screenshots, saved files, exported logs, and stored everything on a secure drive that could not be traced back to me.

I made multiple backups, organized the documents, and hid them where no one would look unless they already suspected betrayal.

When I finished, I logged out and restored the workspace exactly as it had been, leaving no sign that anyone had been there.

My first stop after that was a well-known law firm. The attorney looked up in surprise when I walked in without an appointment.

“You did not schedule—” he started.

“I need separation papers drafted and provisional custody,” I interrupted, placing the drive on his desk. “Everything you need is here.”

He hesitated. “Ma’am, this could provoke the Alpha.”

“It should,” I said. My eyes were red from holding in what I had learned but I did not let them water. “Draft it and hold it. Do not file until I give the order.”

He took the drive, plugged it in, and his face went serious as he scrolled.

“This is substantial. Financial manipulation, unauthorized medical authorization, misuse of pack resources.” He nodded when I repeated my instruction. “I will hold the documents until you say go.”

I left without small talk and went to the clinic on the edge of the Outlier Quarters. The clinic was small and discreet, the kind of place that did favors for wolves who fell through the cracks.

Doctor Riven, an old friend from college who had chosen to work where the city met the wild, waited outside smoking. He looked up when I approached and did not hide his surprise.

“You are really doing this?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

He crushed the cigarette under his heel and shifted his weight.

“You sure? Once the bond is severed, you cannot form it with that same mate again. For the child, the bond matters.”

“I am sure,” I said. I handed him the plan and the evidence I carried. “I need a clean break. I want them to believe I am gone.”

He studied my face for a long moment and then led me inside to a sterile examination room. He worked quietly at the base of my neck where the mate bond could be released with a controlled procedure.

Before he began, he asked softly, “Are you certain? This is permanent.”

“My mother helped him in silence,” I said, meeting his eyes. “He repaid her with betrayal. I am not my mother. He will regret it.”