Chapter 1I walked in on my mate—Head Warrior of the Silverborn Pack—fucking his mistress on his war desk.
3 years in prison for his dad's crime. 7 years of "I'll love you forever."
And this is what his love looked like.
I recorded every word. Then I left.
Here's the kicker:
I was never the "rogue" he thought he was saving.
I'm the Alpha heir of the most powerful pack in the South.
And my new mate? The deadliest War God alive.
Game over, Damien.
You're about to rot.
---
On the night of our seventh anniversary, a rogue attack tore through the western border.
My mate, Damien Thornfield, left our dinner half-eaten and rushed straight to the front lines.
Head Warrior of the Silverborn Pack. Always on call. Always needed. Always gone.
I told myself it was fine.
I told myself that for seven full days while he worked the case. No calls. No texts. Just silence so loud it made the walls hum.
Our mating ceremony got postponed. Again.
The ninety-ninth time.
At some point, I stopped counting the cancellations and started counting the years.
When the news finally came that the threat had been handled, I didn't wait for him to come home.
I went to his command post instead.
But the second I cracked the door open, I saw him pinning one of his subordinates to the war table, his cock slamming into her dripping pussy.
"Damien, the rogues are gone… are you going back to Freya now?" Anastasia Monroe gasped, her tits bouncing with every brutal thrust.
He let out a low, mocking laugh. Like the answer was obvious.
"Relax," he said. "Even if I go through with the ceremony, if you want me, I'm yours anytime."
"Then… can you push it back one more time?" she moaned. "I can't go without you."
Before she even finished, my phone buzzed.
Damien: [Another skirmish just broke out. Ceremony's delayed again.]
A cold smile tugged at my mouth as I turned away and dialed.
"Dad," I said, my voice flat and cold. "I'm ready to come home and take my place as Alpha. And I'll accept the alliance match, too."
Back through that half-open door, I could still hear them.
On the cold metal desk, Damien's wolf was surging. Damien's wolf was surging, his cock driving into her again and again while Anastasia's moans got louder and louder.
Her nails scraped down his chest. "I'm so jealous of Freya," she breathed. "Why does she get a ceremony with you? I should punish you for that."
She sank her teeth into his chest. Left a vivid bite mark right over his heart.
Damien groaned, grabbed her wrist, and brought her fingers to his mouth.
"Why be jealous?" he said, voice rough. "What I give you, I've never given her."
"Tell me how you want it," he went on, thrusting harder. "Hell, you want me to eat you out, I'll do it. But her? She thinks I'm some germ freak. She won't even touch me."
I stood there. Frozen.
Seven years. Seven years of "I just have a thing about germs." Seven years of "I don't really like physical contact."
And I'd believed him. Like an idiot.
Inside me, my white wolf Lunara roared. "That's your devoted mate," she snarled. "The one you've loved for seven years. He fed you that 'let's wait' bullshit, then fucked another she-wolf on his desk."
"Freya," she growled, "rip him apart. Or walk away. But don't just stand there."
My chest felt like it was caving in.
I really thought he had a serious cleanliness hang-up. I really thought I was being understanding. Patient. Supportive.
Turns out the truth was way simpler. Crueler. More pathetic.
He just didn't want me.
"But you're still going to bond with her?" Anastasia asked, breathless. "Damien, you love me. Why can't you just break it off?"
"No," He sighed, like I was a burden he'd been carrying too long. "She took the fall for my dad. Did three years in prison. I owe her."
Damien kissed Anastasia hard, tongues tangling.
Then he pulled back and cupped her face.
"Don't worry," he said, voice low and serious. "I'm yours. I Never loved her."
"The last seven days? I took leave. Went back to your home with you. We held our own mating ceremony."
"At the Moon Goddess Temple," he continued. "We sealed the bond. Got the certificate notarized. And Freya? She'll never know."
"She'll spend her whole life holding a fake certificate like an idiot," he said with a cold smile. "A bond in name only—that's me paying back what I owe."
He paused. Let it land.
"As for anything else? She can forget it."
Damien'd planned it. This wasn't a spur-of-the-moment betrayal. This was calculated. Deliberate.
I stood there like a statue. Finally hearing what Damien really thought of me.
Seven years ago, when his father got caught in a corruption scandal, Damien came to me crying. Begging.
"Freya, please. Just say it was you. You're the only one who can help. I'll owe you forever. I'll love you forever."
I caved. Of course I caved. I loved him.
When my Alpha father found out what I was about to do, he lost his mind. Cast me out of the pack.
The whole pack turned on me. Called me a disgrace. A traitor. Said I'd dragged the Silverborn name through the mud.
Three years in prison. Ground down day after day. Week after week. Year after year.
When I got out, I had almost nothing left. No pack. No title. No future.
Just Kael.
Just his promises.
"I'll bond with you, Freya. I'll make you my mate."
I believed him.
I believed every word.
But every time the mating ceremony got close, something came up.
Border skirmish. Rogue sighting. Training drill.
Ninety-nine times.
I thought he was just dedicated to his duty.
Turns out I was just stupid. He didn't respect me.
He pitied me. And pity's just another word for contempt.
"Kill him," Lunara snarled, her white form blazing inside my mind. "He's a liar. Kill him, Freya. Kill him now."
A cold smile crept across my face.
"No," I said softly. "Killing him's too easy."
"I want him on his knees."
"I will make him wish he'd never been born."
I pulled off the engagement ring—cheap silver, fake promise—and tossed it into the trash bin outside his door.
If he loved garbage so much? He could keep it company.
Chapter 2
Damien didn't roll in until 4 a.m., stinking like he'd bathed in some random she-wolf's slick.
He stood in the entryway. Waiting. The way he always did. Expecting me to help him change into his house slippers like a good little kept woman.
I didn't.
"What's your problem?" he said, frowning. "I texted you about pushing the ceremony back. You saw it, right?"
I said nothing. Just stared.
"Gods, not this shit again." He rolled his eyes when he caught my expression. "Every goddamn time I say we gotta delay, you get all moody. You think I'm doing this for fun?"
"What, you think I'm punishing you on purpose?" His voice got louder. "Can you grow the fuck up and stop guilt-tripping me about my job? You really think I enjoy this?"
He looked at me like I was the one being dramatic.
He yanked off his jacket and let it drop on the floor.
"I've been dealing with rogue bullshit for sixteen hours straight," he said flatly. "I'm beat. I don't have the energy for whatever drama you're cooking up."
My gaze landed on his collarbone. Kiss marks. Fresh. Dark. Not even hidden. Like he wanted me to see them.
I let out a quiet, mocking laugh. "Rogue attacks, huh. Looks exhausting."
His jaw tightened for half a second. Then he shrugged. "Yeah. So drop it."
"Freya, look at you." His gaze raked over me, stopping on my worn-out face with open disgust. "You don't work. You don't contribute. You just sit around this house obsessing over a stupid mating ceremony like some desperate Omega who can't get laid."
He smirked. "Honestly, what's the difference between you and one of those pathetic low-ranks in heat?"
The words stabbed clean through my ribs.
Lunara roared inside me. "You don't work because you've been wiping his crippled bastard father's ass for three years," she snarled. "You gave up everything so this piece of shit could play hero while you became the pack's favorite punching bag."
I dug my claws into my palms until blood welled up.
For years. I cleaned up his father's shit—literally—nursed him through fake suicide attempts, scrubbed floors, cooked meals, kept that house running while Kael played hero at work.
And he had the nerve to call me lazy.
"Face it," Damien said, crossing his arms. "Without me? You'd be dead in a ditch somewhere. You cast-out rogue."
"And quit pulling that prison card like you've got leverage," he added, shameless as ever. "You volunteered to take the fall. That was your choice. So stop acting like I owe you my entire fucking life."
"I let you stay here out of the goodness of my heart," he said with a sneer. "You should be grateful."
He stepped closer, voice dropping into a warning. "So quit picking fights. Because if you actually push me too far? You'll spend the rest of your miserable life regretting it."
I almost laughed.
Lunara snorted. "If he knew you're about to become Alpha of the Silverborn Pack—the most powerful pack in the South—he'd probably shit himself and choke on it."
After I refused to back down, my father finally relented and agreed to let me return, and he'd even said I could bring Damien with me.
I'd been planning to surprise him at the mating ceremony.
Now?
Fuck that.
I lifted my eyes to his and kept my voice steady. "Yeah. You're right."
"I should think this through," I said. "So let's make it easy. We're done."
He blinked. Then he laughed.
"Oh, look at you," he mocked. "Trying to manipulate me with breakup threats now? Real mature, Freya."
"Go ahead," he said, gesturing at the door. "Walk out. See how far you get. You've got nowhere to go, no one to run to, and no roof over your head without me."
The contempt in his eyes was like acid on an open wound.
But I didn't look away.
"Babe, what's all the yelling about?" Anastasia's voice floated in from the doorway, syrupy and fake. "Did I come at a bad time?"
She pulled out a box of condoms, dangling it in front of Damien with a smug little smile.
"You left this in my car," she purred. "Thought you might need it tonight."L
My eyes tracked the box. My stomach twisted so hard I thought I'd puke.
Damien's eyes went dark with lust again. His voice dropped. "You couldn't just bring it tomorrow at training?"
"I figured you'd want it sooner," she said sweetly. Then she shot me a look—sharp, cruel, victorious. "I mean, since you're stuck with Freya tonight, you probably won't get the kind of fuck you're used to…"
She tilted her head, fake-innocent. "Oops. Sorry, Freya. Didn't mean to rub it in."
I clenched my fists and let out a cold laugh. "Whether I'm good in bed isn't your concern," I said softly. "But thanks for the amateur opinion."
Then I turned to Damien. "I'm not asking. I'm telling you, Damien. We're done."
With that, I turned and headed for the door without looking back.
"Freya!" Damien grabbed my wrist, yanking me back. His face was pale now, panicked. "Wait. Stop. It's four in the fucking morning. Where are you even going?"
He took a breath. His tone shifted—gentler, coaxing, like he was talking to a spooked animal.
"Look," he said. "I get it. You want the mating ceremony."
"Fine," he said quickly. "We'll do it. Next week. No more delays. I swear."
Chapter 3
Damien whipped out his phone and shoved the screen in my face.
"See?" he said. "Venue's booked. Guest list's done. Everything's set."
"I was gonna surprise you," he added. "Now quit being dramatic. We'll talk in the morning."
I glanced at the photos on his screen and let out a laugh.
"He didn't book shit," Lunara sneered inside me. "Those are the photos from the ceremony he already had—with Anastasia."
She was right.
"He's actually trying to scam you with evidence of his own betrayal," she snarled, fangs flashing. "Let me rip his throat out. Please. Let me do it."
"Lunara, chill," I said, forcing her fury down as I looked out at the pitch-black sky. "We'll leave in the morning. My father's already asleep."
I turned and went back to the bedroom.
Damien didn't follow. Didn't check on me.
He just assumed I'd caved. Like I always did.
Sometime after midnight, a sound jerked me awake.
"Ana, not here," Damien hissed. "Let's go to the guest room."
Anastasia laughed and straddled him. "What are you scared of?"
"I slipped her a sleeping charm one of the witches gave me," she purred. "She's out cold."
"And anyway," she whispered, leaning close to his ear, "it's hotter like this."
Damien's breathing went ragged. He flipped her over and tore her shirt open.
"You dirty little bitch," he growled, slamming into her. "I'm gonna wreck this pussy."
Anastasia wrapped her legs around him, gasping, "Fuck—yes—harder—"
Then she turned her head.
Met my open eyes.
Smiled.
"I want a pup," she moaned, loud enough for me to hear. "Fill me up. Right here. Right next to her."
"Fuck," Damien groaned, pounding into her harder. "Whatever you want."
The bed creaked. Again. And again.
Lunara's white silhouette swelled beside the bed, towering over their writhing bodies, claws forming sharp and deadly.
All she had to do was strike, and she could shred them both.
"Lunara," I said quietly. "Don't. They're not worth it."
She snarled but pulled back, pacing tight circles inside my chest.
They didn't stop until dawn.
Damien got up to shower.
"Freya," Anastasia called sweetly. "You heard everything, didn't you?"
"Your fiancé fucked me all night—over and over."
"You've never felt it, have you?" She gasped and covered her mouth in fake shock. "Oh, wait. I forgot."
He's never even touched you, has he?" She finished.
The rage I'd barely held down exploded.
"Bitch," I snarled, and my hand cracked across her face.
My Alpha dominance slammed into her like a tidal wave, and she went down hard, tumbling off the bed.
Lunara surged forward—massive, white, furious—pinning Anastasia to the floor with bone-crushing force.
"Freya, are you insane?" Anastasia shrieked, struggling. "Let me go! Damien won't forgive you!"
Lunara and I scoffed at the same time.
"Forgive me?" I leaned down. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. Today, I'm gonna tear you apart."
I let every ounce of rage and humiliation pour out until Anastasia's body went limp and her breathing turned shallow.
That's when Damien's shout exploded through the room.
"Stop!"
He looked horrified as he shoved me back hard, then scooped Anastasia into his arms.
"Freya, what the fuck is wrong with you?" he snapped.
My eyes locked on the fresh bite marks and scratches all over his chest.
Damien followed my stare. His face went pale. Then his voice shot up, too loud, too fast.
"Are you seriously making shit up in your head again?" he barked. "Gods, Freya!"
"They're bug bites," he said quickly. "Ana's my subordinate. We were going over patrol reports last night."
I almost laughed.
"You're being paranoid," he spat, then he pointed at Anastasia. "Get on your knees and apologize. Now."
"Or don't expect me to show up at next week's ceremony," he warned.
One week ago, that threat would have dropped me to my knees.
Now?
I felt absolutely nothing.
"Do whatever you want," I said coldly.
"Damien, show up or don't," I added, voice steady. "My mating ceremony isn't with you."
