The Alpha's Regret: His Forsaken True Mate

On the day of my Mating Ceremony, I stood in my sacred white silk dress, waiting to be bound to my fated mate, Alpha Hunter.

But Hunter barged into the dressing room, violently ripped the dress from my body, and ordered me to give my Luna title to my best friend, Hazel.

"She's dying and wants to experience being a Luna before her mind is gone. Step aside," he commanded coldly.

He confessed he had been draining the pack's funds for her and even snapped my mother's pet pup's neck to hide his late-night affairs.

He forced me to stand at the altar as a lowly servant while they kissed, broadcasting the fake ceremony directly into my sick Grandmother's hospital room.

The horrific shock caused my Grandmother's heart monitor to flatline.

At the hospital, I discovered an even darker truth.

Years ago, Hazel had framed me for treason out of jealousy, causing me to be kidnapped and tortured by Rogues in a freezing lake of silver.

The silver poisoning left me permanently infertile.

And while I was dying in the ICU sending thousands of SOS calls, Hunter had blocked every single one to perform a secret Blood Oath with Hazel.

I lost my only family, my fertility, and my youth to a man who treated me like trash to protect a traitor.

I grabbed the wolf-tooth necklace from my neck and snapped the leather cord.

"I, Chloe, reject you, Hunter, as my mate."

The words left my lips like a blade. He didn't know yet that rejection was only the beginning.

This time, I wasn't just leaving. I was going to bury them both.

Chapter 1

Chloe POV:

The air backstage at the Nightshade Pack hall was hushed, thick with the heavy perfume of white roses.

I stood before a long mirror, clad in the Luna dress of pure, unadorned silk.

A Luna was the mother of the pack, the Alpha's fated partner, and the highest-ranking female in our society.

Today was my Mating Ceremony, the day my Alpha and I would have our union sanctified before the Moon Goddess.

I drew a slow breath, attempting to quell the frantic beating of a small bird's wings against my ribs.

I thought about my best friend, Hazel.

She was suffering from Inner Wolf Degeneration, a cruel disease where her wolf spirit was slowly extinguishing, leaving her mind a labyrinth of confusion and fractured memories.

I was a Healer, a wolf gifted with medical magic, and I had sworn to use my own blood to make potions for her for the rest of my life.

But yesterday, I had discovered something that chilled me to the bone.

Hazel had used the pack's supreme black card to buy a graveyard plot.

It was not a normal grave, but one paved with pure silver.

Silver was the ultimate weakness of our kind, burning our skin and poisoning our blood.

I thought Hazel had lost the last of her senses to the disease, wanting to destroy her own body.

I immediately told my fated mate, Alpha Hunter.

Hunter had looked away, his eyes shifting nervously.

He told me not to worry, and said we needed to move our Mating Ceremony to today because my Elder Grandmother's heart was failing.

I trusted him, my mate, the other half of my being.

The brass doorknob turned with a grating shriek, and the heavy oak door was thrown inward, striking the wall with a force that shook a fine dust from the ceiling lamp.

Hunter walked in, his expensive tailored suit fitting his broad shoulders perfectly.

His scent, which I had always known as a comforting pine forest, now carried an acrid, aggressive undertone that soured the air.

Before I could smile, he grabbed the neckline of my sacred white dress.

With a violent pull, he ripped the delicate fabric down the middle.

The cold air touched my bare skin like a needle, and a sharp gasp caught in my throat.

"Hunter! What are you doing?" I cried out, covering my chest.

He regarded me with eyes as cold and hard as river stones, wiped clean of any affection.

"Take it off, Chloe," he growled, his voice low and cruel.

"You aren't wearing this today. Hazel is."

The air in my lungs seemed to turn to lead.

"What?" I whispered, my brain refusing to assemble the meaning of his words.

"I'm the secret sponsor," Hunter confessed, his jaw clenching.

"I've been draining the pack's resources to keep Hazel alive. I bought her that silver grave because she's terrified of becoming a witless creature, a danger to herself."

He stepped closer, his tall frame casting a dark shadow over me.

"She wants to be a Luna before her mind is gone entirely. Step aside and let her have this ceremony."

My inner wolf whined in absolute misery.

"But I am your fated mate!" I shouted, tears welling in my eyes.

"And you killed my mother's Moon-pup! You said it ran away!"

Hunter's face twisted into a sneer.

"That damnable fox wouldn't stop howling every time I slipped out to see Hazel at night. It was an annoyance."

"So I snapped its neck and threw the body in the river. I let you believe it ran away."

A great, crushing pressure settled upon my ribs, squeezing the very breath from my body.

He had killed the last living memory of my mother just to hide his dirty affair.

"You didn't move the ceremony for my Grandmother's heart, did you?" I choked out, my voice trembling.

"You did it because Hazel's disease is worsening. She cannot wait."

"Exactly," he said, fixing his cuffs.

A hot, wild current of rage surged through my veins.

I raised my hand and slapped his handsome face with all my strength.

The sound echoed loudly in the room.

"I see now what you are," I hissed. "You do not deserve to leave a Mark on my neck."

From the doorway came a low, guttural snarl.

Hazel rushed in, her body half-shifted, thick fur sprouting on her arms and sharp claws extending from her fingers.

Her mind was clouded-the Degeneration caused violent swings between lucidity and confusion-but her instinct to protect me was still there. For a moment, her eyes cleared, and I saw something I didn't want to recognize: calculation.

She lunged at Hunter, her muddy claws scratching his expensive suit.

I remembered when we were young, Hazel had fought off a group of violent, packless wolves called Rogues to save my life.

She was a warrior back then.

Hunter, who had severe germaphobia and hated dirt, did something that made the warmth drain from my body.

He did not push her away.

Instead, the proud Alpha did not flinch from it; the expensive weave of his tailored trousers sank directly into the mire, the sludge instantly seeping through the pressed creases of the fabric.

He took off his custom silk shirt and gently wiped the dark mud from Hazel's wild claws.

"It's okay, Hazel. I am not hurting her," he cooed, his voice laden with a tenderness that turned my stomach.

I stared at them, my vision blurring with tears.

Years ago, during our pack hunting trials, I had been severely injured and bleeding.

Hunter had refused to let me into his car because he said my blood smelled disgusting and would ruin his leather seats.

Now, he was kneeling in the dirt for her.

The betrayal was a foul, ashen taste on my tongue, and I knew my life in this pack was over. But they had no idea what I was about to become.