Taking Revenge to My Ex-Mate Who Injured My Father

My father’s voice suddenly echoed from the sound crystal.

“So you’re Syrelle? The pup you’re carrying might not even be his. Give me five million spirit coins, or I’ll destroy you.”

My entire body went cold. The last thread of reason in my mind snapped.

Impossible.

The recording was forged.

My father had been unconscious since the Alpha assault. I had reviewed the patrol crystal dozens of times—those words had never existed.

Syrelle’s brows knit together as she spoke in a trembling, fragile tone, as if she had been cornered.

“He threatened me. I barely escaped.”

Ryke pulled her into his arms at once, his voice cold and final.

“Lavinia, I will never pardon you. Your father’s crippling is punishment from the moon itself.”

Then they submitted wave after wave of fabricated proof, accusing my father of blackmail, intimidation, and assault.

The presiding Moon Judge barely glanced at it. A few hollow words later, the verdict was delivered.

I lost.

In a single stroke, my father and I were branded as manorins—wolves who failed at extortion and turned vicious against a pregnant she-wolf.

Snickers and jeers rippled through the gallery. I clenched my fists until my nails cut into my skin.

The moment the hearing ended, before we could even step beyond the Moon Court gates, the crowd had already sealed the path.

Syrelle emerged amid flashing spirit lamps and outstretched hands. Tears glimmered in her eyes, her hands folded together like a falsely wronged saint.

The crowd’s rage and pity erupted at once, fingers stabbing toward my mother and me.

I stood there, the cold night wind biting into my face, already numb.

This wasn’t justice.

It was a trial scripted from the very beginning.

Ryke wrapped Syrelle in his arms, his voice soft with feigned devotion.

“Don’t be afraid, Syrelle. No one will ever threaten you while I breathe. I’ll keep you safe.”

The crowd roared louder.

Someone recognized me and flung a rotten egg in my direction.

A bucket of rancid animal blood crashed over my head, running down my neck and soaking into my clothes. The stench was suffocating—cold, degrading.

“She’s a she-wolf too, yet she tried to trade someone’s honor for profit. Does she have no shame?”

“If the Moon Judge hadn’t been fair, that poor girl would’ve been destroyed!”

“Her father deserved to be crippled! A daughter like that is cursed to a miserable end!”

Their curses pierced me like barbed arrows.

I bit my lip until blood filled my mouth, mixing with the foul stench in my throat.

Only then did Ryke glance at me, frowning as if I were something filthy beneath his feet.

“Stop struggling,” he said coldly. “If you behave, I might still remember our bond and allow you to stay by my side in peace.”

My voice scraped out, barely steady.

“Never. Even if I lose everything, I’ll fight you until the end.”

Ryke’s gaze darkened.

“Still refusing to repent.”

Syrelle bent slightly, looking at me with gentle pity.

“I’m sorry about your father,” she said softly, “but even if the moon turned back time, I would never agree to such a demand.”

Ryke followed smoothly, playing the role of the just Alpha.

“I am her mate, but I answer to justice. I cannot allow corruption to poison the pack.”

The crowd was completely inflamed.

“What a noble Alpha! How did he end up bonded to a woman like her?”

“A she-wolf like that would push any man to sever the bond!”

Watching Ryke’s performance made my stomach twist.

My knees suddenly gave out, and I staggered forward.

Ryke shoved Syrelle aside and drove his foot into my chest.

“Trying to feign injury in the Moon Court now? How was I ever foolish enough to love something so revolting!”

Pain detonated in my chest, stealing the air from my lungs.

Yet deeper still—in the place he once guarded—it hurt far more.

Three years ago, when his enemies ambushed him beneath a blood moon, I had thrown myself in front of the blade meant for his heart.

And now, the only thing he remembered was how to destroy me.

Syrelle tugged at his sleeve, her soft voice instantly reclaiming his attention.

“Ryke, my stomach hurts again. Could you make me some warm porridge? You always do it best.”

He agreed without hesitation and led her away, his arm wrapped tightly around her.

I watched their figures disappear into the night, feeling something inside my chest collapse, piece by piece.