The Alpha's Betrayed Mate

Gracie's POV

"Never come here again! I told you! Didn’t you understand? You’re the daughter of evil! I have no daughter!"

My father's voice thundered through the room, filled with nothing but hatred. No warmth. No love. Just disgust.

Why was I still here?

What was the point?

Tears welled in my eyes. "I'm sorry… I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Take her away! Back to her room!" my father ordered.

Two guards grabbed me roughly, dragging me away like I was nothing. Like I wasn’t the daughter of the Alpha—like I wasn’t even human.

They tossed me inside my room, and I hit the floor hard. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, numb.

Why did I come here?

The pain inside me was unbearable, suffocating.

Why was I still living? To be branded a murderer for something I didn’t do? To be hated by my own family? Betrayed by the man I once loved?

What did I do to deserve this, Moon Goddess?

My wolf whimpered inside me, feeling my anguish. She wanted me to be strong, to fight for the truth.

But what was left to fight for?

I pushed myself up and looked at my hands—bloody, covered in cuts that wouldn’t heal fast. It would take time.

I was done.

I was never the type to hate anyone. Maybe that was my biggest flaw. Maybe I was a fool for still caring about people who despised me.

I laughed—a hollow, bitter sound that echoed through the small room. It felt like I was going insane.

When Lily’s birthday arrived, I went. The entire pack was there, celebrating her memory like she was still alive. I stood at the back, watching as they placed a framed photo of her on the makeshift stage. She was so young, so beautiful.

I was wearing the dress she had chosen for me—a simple blue one.

Anastasia approached with a pitying smile. "Did Mom ask you to come, Gracie? You really shouldn’t be here…" She acted concerned, but I saw right through her.

Marcus was by her side. He didn’t even bother pretending to care. He wouldn’t look at me. He was ashamed.

My mother appeared out of nowhere, gripping my arm tightly and dragging me forward.

Straight to the empty casket.

"Kneel," she commanded, her voice cold. "And tell us where our Lily is."

Like I wasn’t their daughter. Like I was nothing.

My father stormed toward us, his fury crackling in the air. "Are you out of your mind, My Luna?! You brought her here?"

"It’s best that she’s here," my mother replied. "She needs to repent for what she’s done. She needs to tell us where she hid Lily’s body."

I stared at the casket.

If I died, would they care?

No.

They’d celebrate. They’d say justice had been served because a murderer deserved to die.

"My Luna, Alpha Derick… Please don’t do this," Anastasia pleaded softly, clutching Lily’s favorite doll—the one I picked for her, the one my brother Kian had gifted her.

My breath caught.

The memory hit me like a punch to the gut.

Kian was so happy when I chose that doll. Lily had loved it. She carried it everywhere.

And the next day… Kian was dead.

Killed in a rogue attack while handling border disputes. He was supposed to be Alpha. But that future never came.

The entire Redmoon Pack mourned.

I never even had the chance to grieve.

Because right after Kian was gone… Lily disappeared.

My gaze flickered to Marcus. He was looking at me now, and for the first time in a long time, there was pity in his eyes.

"Anastasia’s right, Alpha Derick," he said carefully.

"You still defend the woman who murdered our only son’s daughter?" my father snapped. "I can’t believe you’re this blind, Alpha Marcus!"

Marcus's jaw tightened. "Is love really that easy to throw away, Alpha Derick? She’s your daughter. And I still care about her."

"Care?" My father let out a bitter laugh. "You care for a murderer?!"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd—wolves from allied and neighboring packs, all whispering about me. About the disgrace of the Redmoon Pack.

"She’s not my daughter anymore!" my father declared, voice full of venom. "After what she’s done, she deserves it! She deserves to die for killing Lily!"

I saw it then.

Marcus’s face flushed—not with anger, but with shame.

Not shame for me.

Shame for himself.

For defending me in front of others.

He wasn’t doing this for me. He was doing it to salvage his own reputation.

He never truly loved me.

Because if you love someone, you stand by them. You believe in them.

I thought Marcus knew me better than my own parents. But he didn’t.

No one did.

Slowly, I stepped forward.

I knelt before the empty casket.

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.

Silence fell.

They were waiting.

Waiting for me to confess.