When My Mate Offered Me to the Rogue King

The forest floor was damp with morning dew, the air crisp and silent until the sudden, shrill screech of the perimeter alarm shattered the peace. My head snapped up. We were on a routine patrol, a simple exercise to test the younger wolves' awareness.

Macie Bell stood near the sensory wire, her boot tangled in the trip line. It was a rookie mistake, the kind a pup wouldn't make, let alone a grown she-wolf who claimed to have survived in the wild. The warriors behind me grumbled, the tension palpable. A breach like this during a real rogue attack would mean death.

I stepped forward, my Luna authority rising despite the hollow ache in my chest. "Macie," I said, keeping my voice firm but level. "You need to watch your footing. You’ve compromised the entire eastern flank. If this were real, we would be ambushed by now."

Macie didn’t apologize. Instead, her bottom lip trembled, and tears welled instantly in those wide, blue eyes. "I... I didn't mean to," she sobbed, shrinking back as if I had struck her. "I'm just so tired... the nightmares..."

"Enough," a deep voice boomed.

Theodore emerged from the tree line, his presence sucking the oxygen from the air. He didn't look at the tripped wire. He looked at Macie's tears, and then he turned a glare of scorching heat onto me.

"She is traumatized, Aria," he growled, stepping between us. "She is recovering from horrors you couldn't imagine."

"She endangered the pack, Theodore," I insisted, fighting the urge to submit to his aura. "As Luna, it is my duty to—"

"**Silence!**"

The Alpha Tone hit me like a physical blow to the gut. My knees buckled, and my wolf whined in agony, forcing my head down in submission. The warriors around us shifted uncomfortably, averting their eyes. An Alpha never used the Tone on his Luna. Never.

"Stop bullying her out of your petty jealousy," he spat, his voice devoid of the warmth I used to know. "Get back to the house. You are dismissed from patrol."

I scrambled to my feet, humiliation burning my skin hotter than fire, and ran.

***

Two days later, I found myself in the laundry room, sorting through the massive pile of pack linens. It was Omega work, but since Theodore had effectively stripped me of my Luna duties, I had nowhere else to be.

I picked up a delicate silk blouse—Macie’s. As I moved to toss it into the washer, a scent hit me. It wasn't just the floral perfume she wore, the one that smelled exactly like Frances. Underneath the artificial sweetness was something sharp, earthy, and pungent.

I brought the fabric to my nose and inhaled deeply. My grandmother had been a healer; I knew herbs. This was a mixture of crushed nettle and witch hazel—strong masking agents used by hunters to hide their natural scent.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Macie wasn't just smelling like Frances by coincidence. She was chemically altering her scent. She was a fraud.

I dropped the blouse and squeezed my eyes shut, reaching out through the mind-link. *Theodore. Please, you have to listen to me.*

Silence. Not the silence of an empty room, but the silence of a brick wall. He had blocked me. The bond between us, already frayed, was now a dead line. I was screaming into the void, and he refused to hear me.

***

The training grounds were chaotic the next afternoon. Theodore had ordered a high-stakes simulation involving collapsing structures to test our reflex speeds. I shouldn't have been there, but I refused to hide in the house like a scolded pup.

Macie was there, too, standing close to Theodore, looking fragile in oversized training gear.

"Prepare!" the Gamma shouted.

We stood in the designated zone, a cluster of wooden scaffolding looming above us. The signal blew. The support ropes were cut. The heavy timber groaned and began to plummet.

It happened in slow motion. A massive support beam snapped with a sound like a gunshot, twisting in the air. It was falling directly toward where Macie and I were standing, side by side.

I froze, calculating the trajectory. I wasn't fast enough to clear it alone. But Theodore was.

I saw a blur of motion. My heart leaped. *He’s coming for me.*

Theodore moved with the terrifying speed of an Alpha, a streak of power cutting across the grass. He reached us in a heartbeat. He didn't hesitate. He didn't falter.

He shoved past me.

The force of his shoulder clipped me, spinning me off balance just as he tackled Macie, wrapping his body around hers and rolling them safely to the soft grass outside the impact zone.

I didn't have time to scream.

The timber crashed down. A sickening crunch echoed through my body as the heavy wood slammed into my left arm and pinned me to the hard earth.

Pain, white and blinding, exploded in my shoulder. I gasped, the air driven from my lungs, dust filling my mouth. Through the haze of agony, I turned my head.

Theodore was on his knees a few yards away, frantically cupping Macie’s face. "Are you hurt? Did it hit you?" he demanded, his voice frantic with fear.

Macie was perfectly fine, not a scratch on her, but she was wailing, clinging to his shirt.

He didn't look back. He didn't check for me. He had made his choice in the split second that mattered, and it wasn't me.

"Luna!"

The scream didn't come from my mate. It came from Dr. Martinez, the pack healer, running toward me with terror in her eyes. "Alpha! The Luna is down!"

Only then did Theodore freeze. He turned his head slowly, his eyes finding me under the debris. For a second, I saw horror flicker across his face, but as I lay there, broken and bleeding in the dirt, I realized the break in my arm was nothing compared to the final, fatal fracture in my heart.