When My Husband Turned Traitor, I Fought Back

The greenhouse air hung thick with moisture and the heady scent of night-blooming jasmine. Victor's hand rested at the small of my back, guiding me between rows of plants I had tenderly cultivated. Each touch of his fingers felt like a brand on my skin.

"Your sanctuary," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "I've always admired how you nurture these fragile things."

Fragile. The word echoed in my mind. Is that how he saw me? A fragile thing to be manipulated, exploited?

My wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin, no longer dormant but alert, watchful. The tea I'd pretended to drink would have dulled her senses by now, made me pliable and unaware. Instead, I remained hyperconscious of every movement, every subtle shift in Victor's demeanor.

"The moonflowers are particularly beautiful tonight," I said, moving toward the alcove hidden behind tall ferns—my private reading nook where I planned to dispose of the remaining tea.

Victor's grip tightened, stopping me. "Not there. I want to show you something special."

He led me to the center of the greenhouse where a small stone table stood beneath the glass ceiling. Moonlight streamed down, illuminating an ancient ceremonial bowl—a relic from the early days of our pack.

"Do you know what night it is?" he asked, his voice taking on that reverent quality he used when performing Alpha rituals.

I calculated quickly. "The quarter moon."

"The perfect time for renewal." Victor lifted a crystal decanter and poured a familiar amber liquid into the bowl. The same tea he'd served at dinner, but stronger, more concentrated. The scent made my nostrils flare—herbs, yes, but underneath, something chemical and sharp.

"I've prepared a special blessing for you," he continued, taking my hands in his. "To strengthen our bond."

My heart hammered against my ribs. This wasn't part of any pack ritual I knew. This was something else entirely.

"Drink," he said, lifting the bowl toward me. His eyes glittered in the moonlight, no longer the warm amber I'd fallen in love with but hard, predatory gold. "Directly from the bowl. It's more potent that way."

Time seemed to slow. I could feel my wolf rising, her presence stronger than ever before, a growl building deep in my chest.

No.

The word formed in my mind with crystal clarity. If I drank from that bowl, I wouldn't wake until he wanted me to. Until he was finished using me for whatever "content" he planned to sell tonight.

I shook my head, a small movement but unmistakable. "I—I can't."

Victor's expression shifted, surprise flashing across his features before settling into something harder, colder. "Grace." My name became a command, laced with Alpha tone. "Drink."

The pressure of his will pressed against me, a weight designed to force submission. For three years, I had yielded to that pressure without question.

Not tonight.

"I'm not feeling well," I said, stepping back. "Perhaps tomorrow."

His nostrils flared, irritation crackling in his aura. "You're being ridiculous. This is for your own good."

"Please, Victor." I injected a tremor into my voice, playing the role of the weak, uncertain Luna he expected me to be. "I just need some air."

Before he could respond, I turned and fled from the greenhouse, my heart pounding in my ears. The cool night air hit my face as I ran toward the forest edge, away from the pack house, away from him.

I heard him call my name once, the Alpha command in his voice sending a shudder down my spine, but I didn't stop. Couldn't stop.

The forest welcomed me with shadows and silence. I ran blindly, branches whipping past my face, my lungs burning. I needed to think, to plan. I needed—

A wave of dizziness crashed over me without warning. My legs buckled, sending me sprawling onto the forest floor. The world tilted and spun around me.

How? I hadn't drunk the tea. I'd been so careful.

As darkness crept in from the edges of my vision, a terrible realization dawned. Dinner. The wine. He'd had a backup plan.

The last thing I saw before consciousness slipped away was the quarter moon watching impassively through the canopy of trees.

* * *

Pain greeted me first—a dull ache that seemed to radiate from every limb. Then awareness: the familiar scent of our private den, the soft fur beneath my naked body, the sound of a fire crackling nearby.

I kept my eyes closed, taking inventory. Bruises bloomed on my arms, tender spots on my thighs and hips. My wolf whimpered, our shared body used in ways we couldn't remember.

"I know you're awake."

Victor's voice, soft and solicitous, came from somewhere to my right. I opened my eyes slowly, finding him seated in a chair beside the bed, his expression a perfect mask of concern.

"What happened?" I whispered, though I already knew. The question was: what lie would he tell?

"You were attacked," he said, reaching out to brush hair from my face. I fought the urge to flinch away from his touch. "A rogue wolf followed you into the forest. If I hadn't tracked you through our bond..."

He let the implication hang in the air between us. My savior. My protector.

My abuser.

"I don't remember," I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

"The shock," he explained smoothly. "Your body shifted to protect you, but the rogue was stronger. I got there just in time."

I glanced down at my body, noting the matted fur still clinging to patches of my skin. So I had shifted. Or had he forced the change while I was unconscious?

"Thank you," I murmured, playing my part. "For saving me."

His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Always, my love. I'll always protect what's mine."

As he turned to stoke the fire, I let my gaze drift to the den entrance. Fresh tracks marked the dirt floor—not the chaotic signs of a struggle, but the methodical coming and going of multiple wolves.

No rogue had attacked me last night. The only predator in this den was sitting three feet away, planning his next lie.

My wolf growled low in my chest, too quiet for him to hear. Soon, I promised her. Soon we would be free of him. But first, we needed proof no Alpha could deny.

I closed my eyes again, feigning exhaustion, while my mind raced with plans. Victor might be the Alpha, the hunter, but he had made one critical mistake.

He had forgotten that even prey can have teeth.