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Taking Revenge to My Ex-Mate Who Injured My Father Novel Cover

Taking Revenge to My Ex-Mate Who Injured My Father

After learning her mate, Alpha Ryke, has brought his pregnant childhood love Syrelle into their home, a devastated she-wolf is ordered to serve her rival. The betrayal deepens when Ryke brutally crushes her father's legs, claiming the older wolf's gaze frightened Syrelle and threatened his unborn heir. Refusing to tolerate his cruelty, she voids their sacred mating bond. With her family's immense financial power, she initiates a ruthless plan to strip Ryke's pack of everything within seven days.
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Chapter 2

By the time I reached the Moon Healer’s Hall, my legs were barely holding me up.

My father lay unconscious on the stone bed. His eyes were shut tight, his face dark with bruises left by Alpha force. His chest was bound in layered rune-cloth, and one leg—crushed beyond healing—was sealed inside a thick moon-cast, cold and gray like carved rock.

The moment my mother saw me, she broke down. She clutched my hand, her voice trembling as she told me everything.

My father had been reduced to this… because of Ryke.

Because he wanted to shield his childhood mate—pregnant with his heir. Because my father had merely glanced at Syrelle while passing through pack territory.

Ryke never questioned him. Never verified the truth. He unleashed his wolf on the spot, condemning my father as vile and accusing him of terrifying a pregnant she-wolf.

Hearing it felt like my chest had been torn open.

Staring at my father, barely breathing beneath the moon wards, I swallowed my shaking hands and summoned the Pack Tribunal.

Soon, the trial date arrived.

That day, Ryke entered the Moon Court hand in hand with Syrelle, calm and composed, as though they were attending a ceremonial gathering rather than a judgment.

When they saw me, there was no remorse in their eyes—no discomfort at all. It was as if the one they had nearly killed was not a living wolf, but something disposable.

“Is this really necessary, Lavinia?” Ryke’s voice sounded behind me, sharp with impatience. “You’re making a spectacle.”

I didn’t turn around. My voice was ice-cold. “You left me no other path.”

Then I walked into the Moon Court without sparing them another glance.

The trial began.

Ryke immediately assumed a solemn, righteous air, his tone steady and convincing—like a wolf wronged by circumstance.

“To my knowledge,” he said clearly, “my father-in-law fixated his gaze on Syrelle. He disrupted neutral grounds and frightened a pregnant she-wolf. Had I not intervened, the consequences could have been far worse. I acted to uphold pack law. I would rather defend justice than protect blood ties.”

As he spoke, he positioned Syrelle behind him, shielding her like a fragile treasure.

Then he glanced at me with clear irritation.

“Instead of caring for an injured elder, you come to accuse me? This is the Moon Court. We deal in proof, not feelings. Withdraw the charge. If your family suffers consequences from this, I will not bear responsibility.”

Only then did I finally understand.

Why she stopped me from summoning the Tribunal. Why she refused to testify, even when I knelt before her.

From the beginning to the end—she stood beside Syrelle.

I clenched my teeth, forcing my rage down, and made one last attempt to reach whatever conscience he had left.

“My father treated you as his own pup,” I said hoarsely. “He guided you through pack ranks, backed every promotion, helped you claim your Alpha ambitions. He gave you everything he had.”

“Now he lies between life and death because of you. You are his son by bond. Can you truly sleep beneath the moon after this?”

Ryke scoffed, his expression full of contempt.

“Pack law is neutral. I stand on the side of truth, not sentiment. I am willing to testify that his leg was already damaged. This incident has nothing to do with me.”

He lied smoothly, without the slightest flicker of emotion.

My hands shook as I submitted the surveillance crystal I had preserved.

It was the key evidence—clearly showing Syrelle striking my father first.

But when the crystal activated, the image dissolved into static moonlight.

The evidence had been replaced.

Syrelle looked at me, lips curving faintly, silently forming two words:

Foolish.

Only two people had access to that crystal.

Me… and Ryke.

I slammed my hands onto the stone table and stood up abruptly.

“Ryke! You altered the evidence! Have you lost every shred of conscience?”

Ryke remained calm. Beneath the table, he gently squeezed Syrelle’s hand, soothing her as though calming a frightened pup.

“Syrelle has a gentle heart,” he said softly. “She didn’t wish to escalate this matter. She wanted to leave your family a way out. Yet you came here full of hostility, trying to frame her.”

Then, without haste, he submitted an audio recording to the court.

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