Mate Bond Broken by Betrayal

The world around me blurred as Elder Helena's words echoed through the chamber. Not Ethan's mother. The moonstones had spoken, and their verdict was undeniable.

My knees threatened to buckle beneath me as whispers erupted throughout the room. Logan remained seated in his Alpha chair, his expression unreadable as stone. I reached for our mate bond, desperate for some reassurance—anything to make sense of this nightmare.

That's when I heard it.

A voice—Logan's voice—not directed at me but at someone else. Someone whose presence I could sense through our bond in a way that made my blood run cold.

"We need to move up the timeline," Logan's voice whispered through our mind-link, urgent and panicked. "Ethan's wolf is fading faster than we anticipated."

A female voice responded, one I recognized instantly despite never having heard it through our bond before. "I told you we should have acted sooner. The boy was never meant to last this long."

"The elders are getting suspicious," Logan continued. "We need to harvest the real heir's life force from Shadowmere before Ethan's wolf dies completely."

My hand flew to my mouth, stifling the gasp that threatened to escape. Harvest? Real heir? Shadowmere—the notorious rogue territory where the most desperate outcasts survived by preying on weaker wolves.

"My daughter," I whispered aloud, the words barely audible even to my own ears.

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to me as I stood frozen, my mind racing to piece together what I'd just heard. A daughter. My daughter. Alive somewhere all these years while I'd raised another woman's son.

Without conscious thought, my feet carried me from the chamber. I moved through the pack house with single-minded purpose, ignoring the calls of concerned pack members as I passed. My destination was clear—Logan's private Alpha office at the far end of the east wing.

I didn't knock. My hand slammed against the heavy oak door, throwing it open with enough force to make it bounce against the wall.

Logan looked up from his desk, annoyance flashing across his features before settling into careful neutrality. "Rosemary, this isn't the time—"

"What did you mean by 'harvest'?" I demanded, my voice trembling with fury and fear. "What have you done with my daughter?"

He didn't deny it. Didn't even try.

Instead, Logan leaned back in his chair, studying me with cold calculation. "I wondered when you might discover the truth. I'd hoped it would be later, when Ethan's condition was more... manageable."

"Tell me everything," I commanded, my Luna authority emerging despite the chaos of my emotions.

Logan's lips curved into a smile that never reached his eyes. "Three years ago, when our pups were born on the same night, Alicia came to me with a proposition."

"Alicia?" The name sent ice through my veins.

"You remember her, surely. From your time in human territory." His tone was conversational, as if discussing the weather rather than the betrayal that had shaped our lives. "When she learned of your... situation, she approached me with an offer."

"What offer?" My hands clenched into fists at my sides.

"A trade." Logan stood, moving around his desk with predatory grace. "Her son carried genetic weakness—his wolf would never be strong enough to lead a pack. But your daughter..."

"She showed signs of Lycan heritage," I finished for him, the pieces falling into terrible place.

"Yes." He didn't deny it. "Your royal bloodline was beginning to manifest in her. If the pack discovered what she was—what you are—"

"I would have been exposed." My voice was hollow.

"And I would have lost everything." Logan's eyes flashed with something like regret, but it vanished quickly. "I needed to appear strong, Rosemary. To produce a viable heir while keeping your secret."

Before I could respond, the door behind me swung open. The scent hit me first—vanilla and jasmine, cloying and sweet. A scent I remembered all too well from my human territory days.

"Is she accepting it well?" The voice was honey-sweet with an undercurrent of venom.

I turned slowly to face the woman who entered with the confidence of someone who belonged there. Alicia Wood. More beautiful than I remembered, her golden hair cascading over shoulders squared with confidence.

"Rosemary," she purred, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Surprise."

"Where is my daughter?" I demanded, ignoring her completely.

Alicia's smile widened as she moved to stand beside Logan, her hand possessively resting on his arm. "Oh, she's been quite comfortable in Shadowmere. Well, comfortable enough for a spare pup."

"Spare pup?" The words tasted like poison.

"Our insurance policy," Logan explained coldly. "In case Ethan's condition ever worsened."

Alicia's eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction as she looked me up and down. "I've been monitoring her progress personally. Such a shame she's been kept barely alive all these years—but necessary, of course. We needed her healthy enough to serve as a donor when the time came."

"You," I whispered, realization dawning. "You're his chosen mate."

"The one who will give him strong heirs," Alicia confirmed, her smile sharp as a blade. "Unlike some."

She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me. "I've waited years for this moment, Rosemary. Do you remember how you made me feel in human territory? Always better than me, always protected by your royal guards even when you pretended to be nothing special."

Her eyes glittered with vindictive pleasure. "Now I have everything that should have been yours."