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After My Alpha Betrayed Me for the Pack’s Heiress Novel Cover

After My Alpha Betrayed Me for the Pack’s Heiress

A single devastating afternoon destroys everything she once held dear. Walking into her quarters, a Luna discovers her Alpha mate, Sterling, cradling the pack's heiress, Nyla, in his arms. He deliberately coats her neck in his scent—an intimate ritual meant only for true mates. As his cedar-and-iron aroma wraps around the heiress, the protagonist's own mark turns freezing cold and hollow. Locked out of her marriage and her future, she must face a brutal new reality of betrayal.
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Chapter 4

The summons came at dawn. Not through the bond—Sterling kept that sealed—but through Aldric's fist on my door.

"Tribunal. Main hall. Now."

I dressed quickly. My ribs still pulled where the graft scar sat. I took the suppressant dose from the nightstand and swallowed it dry. Sable went quiet underneath, but I felt her attention sharpen.

Something was wrong.

The main hall was already full when I arrived. Warriors lined the walls. The Betas sat in the front rows. Sterling stood on the dais with Aldric at his right shoulder. Nyla was not present.

That should have told me everything.

Sterling's eyes found mine across the hall. His face was blank. The bond between us was a wall of nothing.

"Luna Riley," he said. His voice carried. Formal. "Step forward."

I walked to the center of the hall. The warriors did not look at me. That should have been the second warning.

Aldric unrolled a document. His voice was flat as he read.

"Three days ago, during a border run between Ironveil and Ashborne territories, an unprovoked attack occurred. The Ashborne Gamma's daughter was hospitalized with severe lacerations to the throat and shoulder. Alpha Conrad Hayes of Ashborne has issued a formal demand for blood reparation. The aggressor must be surrendered to Ashborne custody within twenty-four hours, or Ironveil will face tribunal proceedings that may escalate to armed conflict."

My stomach dropped.

I had not been on a border run in weeks. I had been in the Luna quarters, bleeding into Marlee's smuggled rags, recovering from a graft I never consented to.

I opened my mouth.

Sterling's Alpha tone hit me before I made a sound.

*Do not speak.*

My jaw locked. My throat sealed. I stood in the center of the hall with my hands at my sides and I could not make a single word come out.

Aldric continued reading.

"Witness statements have been collected and verified. The aggressor has been identified as Luna Riley Ashford of Ironveil Pack."

The hall went very still.

I stared at Sterling. He looked back at me with nothing in his eyes.

Aldric set down the document. "The formal filing has been transmitted to Ashborne. Alpha Hayes has accepted the identification. Luna Riley will be surrendered to Ashborne custody at the border at noon today."

My heart slammed against my ribs.

I tried to speak again. The Alpha tone held. My body would not let me.

Sterling stepped down from the dais. He walked toward me slowly. When he stopped, he was close enough that I could smell the cedar-and-iron scent that used to mean safety.

"You brought this on yourself," he said quietly. Only I could hear. "You've been a disruption since the day Nyla arrived. This is the consequence."

I looked at him. I looked at the man I had believed loved me. The man who had shielded me from a rogue attack with his own body. The man whose mark sat cold and dead on my neck.

He was handing me to another pack to be punished for something I did not do.

To protect her.

I felt something crack inside my chest. Not the bond. That was already broken. Something deeper.

The last piece of me that had believed he might still come back.

Sterling turned away. He walked back to the dais. He did not look at me again.

Aldric gestured to two warriors. They stepped forward and took my arms. Not rough. Not gentle. Just efficient.

The hall emptied in silence. No one met my eyes. No one spoke.

Marlee was not present. I did not know if that was luck or design.

They walked me out through the main doors and down the path toward the border. The morning was cold. The sky was grey. My feet moved without me telling them to.

The Ashborne warriors were waiting at the tree line.

Five of them. Broad-shouldered. Unsmiling. The lead warrior stepped forward and looked at the Ironveil men holding my arms.

"This the aggressor?"

"Confirmed," one of them said.

The Ashborne warrior looked at me. His eyes were flat.

"Alpha Hayes wants her conscious for the tribunal," he said. "But he didn't say she had to be comfortable."

The Ironveil warriors released my arms. They stepped back. They did not say anything.

They walked away.

I stood alone at the border with five Ashborne warriors and no bond link to call for help and no voice to scream with because the Alpha tone still held my throat shut.

The lead warrior smiled. It was not a kind smile.

"Let's go," he said.

They did not bind my hands. They did not need to. Two of them flanked me. One walked behind. The other two led.

We walked into Ashborne territory.

The trees closed behind us. The Ironveil border disappeared.

I pressed my thumbnail into the inside of my wrist and I thought about the rejection clause buried in a treaty Sterling had signed without reading.

I thought about the vial in my pocket.

I thought about Sable, quiet and waiting under the suppressant ceiling.

And I thought: *Not yet. But soon.*

The Ashborne holding cells were underground. Stone walls. Iron bars. No windows.

They threw me in and locked the door.

The lead warrior leaned against the bars and looked at me.

"Tribunal's in three days," he said. "Alpha Hayes wants to make sure you understand what you did first."

He nodded to the others.

They opened the cell door.

I did not fight. Fighting would have made it worse. I had learned that in Ironveil.

I curled on my side on the stone floor and I took what they gave me.

The first blow cracked a rib. The second split my lip. The third drove the air out of my lungs.

They used fists wrapped in silver mesh. It burned where it touched. It would scar.

I pressed my face to the cold stone and I held on.

Inside my chest, underneath the wolfsbane ceiling, something stirred.

Not whimpering.

Not weak.

A low, building pressure, like a storm gathering behind a dam.

Sable did not speak.

She was done waiting.

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