
After My Mate Betrayed Me, I Escaped
After My Mate Betrayed Me, I Escaped Chapter 1
My hands trembled as I finished healing the last warrior, my energy nearly depleted after eighteen consecutive sessions. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and my wolf, Lyra, whimpered with exhaustion inside me.
*Just one more, Victoria. Then we can rest.*
I nodded, both to myself and to Lyra, as I placed my palms over the deep gash on Delta Carter's shoulder. The familiar warm glow emanated from my fingertips, sealing the wound until only a faint pink line remained where the rogue's claws had torn through flesh.
"There," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "You're all set, Carter. Take it easy for the next day or so."
The young Delta nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Dr. Hayes. The pack is lucky to have you."
If only my mate felt the same way.
I dragged myself back to the quarters I shared with Marcus, my body aching for a hot shower and my bed. Eighteen warriors in one day—a new record. Surely Marcus would recognize my dedication, my sacrifice for the pack. Maybe tonight he'd finally discuss the expansion of the healing center I'd been proposing for months.
When I pushed open our door, Marcus was lounging on the leather sofa, scrolling through his phone. He looked up with that half-smile that once made my heart race but now only reminded me of broken promises.
"There's my healer," he said, setting his phone down. "I got you something."
My exhaustion momentarily lifted. A gift? After all these years of pouring everything into our healing center, was he finally acknowledging my contributions?
Marcus reached into his pocket and tossed something small onto the coffee table. It clattered against the wood—a tiny plastic toy car, the kind you'd find in a human dollar store. The cheap red paint was already chipping at the edges.
"I saw it and thought of you," he said with a chuckle. "Always saying you need more transportation for the healing center."
I stared at the toy, unable to form words as he picked up his phone again, turning it toward me with a proud grin.
"And check this out—just got Sophia her new BMW. Third one this year. The silver really suits her, don't you think?"
The photo showed Sophia posing beside a gleaming luxury car, her perfectly manicured hand resting on the hood, her smile wide and triumphant. The same Sophia who had treated exactly zero patients today. The same Sophia who was supposed to be my "apprentice" but spent more time shopping than learning.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, a nervous habit I couldn't break. "Marcus, I don't understand. I've been asking for a real transport vehicle for the healing center for years. We need it for emergency responses. And you give me... this?"
I picked up the toy car, its plastic wheels spinning uselessly between my fingers.
"It's a joke, Victoria," he said, his tone shifting to that condescending pitch I'd grown to dread. "Lighten up. The pack budget is tight right now."
"Tight enough for three BMWs for Sophia, but not tight enough for actual medical equipment?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Marcus's eyes narrowed, and I immediately regretted speaking. He stood slowly, adjusting his cuffs—his tell when he was about to assert dominance.
"That's different," he said, his voice dropping into the Alpha tone that made my wolf cower. "Sophia is special to me. And you would do well to remember your place in this pack. Your job is to heal. Mine is to decide where resources go."
I lowered my eyes, eight years of conditioning taking over. "I'm sorry, Alpha."
"Good." He checked his watch. "I'm meeting Sophia at the Moonveil Pavilion for dinner. Don't wait up."
And just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone with a plastic toy car and the crushing weight of realization that I would never be enough.
That night, as I scrolled through my phone in bed, Sophia's Instagram post appeared: a close-up of her perfectly manicured hand on the steering wheel of her new BMW, captioned "When your Alpha knows exactly what you deserve 💋 #blessed #packprivilege"
Eighteen warriors healed. Eight years of loyalty. And all I had to show for it was a cheap plastic toy.
My fingers moved before my brain could stop them. I commented: "Nice to see where the pack's healing budget is going these days. Congrats on your third car this year! 🙃"
I hit send and immediately felt Lyra stir anxiously within me.
*Victoria, what have you done?*
Before I could delete it, my phone buzzed with a mind-link message from Marcus, his fury palpable even through the mental connection.
*My office. Tomorrow. 8 AM sharp.*
I knew then that I had crossed a line—one that would change everything.
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