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After My Mate Betrayed Me, I Escaped Novel Cover

After My Mate Betrayed Me, I Escaped

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.
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Chapter 2

I stared at the ledgers spread across my desk, the numbers blurring before my exhausted eyes. Something wasn't adding up—literally. Over fifty thousand dollars had vanished from the healing center's budget in the last quarter alone, yet Marcus insisted we couldn't afford basic medical transport vehicles.

Lyra stirred restlessly within me. *Something's wrong, Victoria. We both know it.*

"I know," I whispered to my wolf, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I traced my finger down another column of figures. "But where is it all going?"

The answer was obvious—Sophia's Instagram flaunted it daily. Three BMWs in a year didn't come cheap. But I needed proof, something concrete that showed Marcus was deliberately funneling pack funds away from essential medical supplies and into his mistress's lap.

I pulled open the bottom drawer of Marcus's desk—a place I rarely ventured. As Alpha, he kept certain documents private, but as his mate and the healing center's director, I had every right to review financial records. At least, that's what I told myself as I rifled through the neatly organized folders.

Behind a stack of territorial agreements, my fingers brushed against something leather-bound and worn. I pulled it out—a journal, its pages yellowed with age. This wasn't pack business; it was personal. I should have put it back.

I didn't.

The journal fell open to a page marked with a red ribbon. The handwriting was unmistakably Marcus's, but the date—eight years ago, just after we'd been mated—made my blood run cold.

*"Rejection Ritual Research: Day 14,"* the heading read. *"Found the ancient texts in Elder Morrow's library. The ritual is surprisingly simple but requires precise wording. The rejected mate experiences physical pain proportional to the bond's strength, but the rejector feels minimal discomfort if performed correctly. Perfect insurance policy if needed."*

My hands trembled as I flipped through more pages, each detailing the exact procedure, the sacred grounds where it must be performed, even the paperwork required by the Werewolf Council.

"Insurance policy," I whispered, the words burning my throat. "He was planning his escape from our bond before we'd even begun."

Lyra howled in anguish inside me. *He never intended to honor our bond.*

I carefully replaced the journal, my mind racing. This wasn't just about the money anymore. This was about eight years of lies, of a mate who had been planning his exit strategy from the very beginning.

---

The pack council chamber buzzed with voices as I slipped into my seat beside Olivia, the Beta of our pack and my closest friend. Her eyes narrowed with concern when she saw my face.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," she whispered.

"Worse," I murmured back. "I've seen the truth."

Before I could elaborate, Marcus strode into the room, commanding immediate silence with his presence. Sophia trailed behind him, her hand possessively on his arm, her lips curved in a smug smile.

"Thank you all for coming," Marcus began, his voice carrying effortlessly across the chamber. "I have exciting news about advancements in our healing capabilities."

My heart quickened. Was he finally going to acknowledge the regenerative salve I'd spent months perfecting? The one that had already saved three warriors from permanent scarring?

"After extensive research," Marcus continued, "I've developed a revolutionary healing salve that accelerates tissue regeneration by 300%. This breakthrough will transform how we treat our warriors."

I froze, disbelief washing over me. *He* had developed it? The salve I'd created through countless sleepless nights, testing dozens of formulations until I found the perfect balance?

"Additionally," Marcus said, his hand reaching for Sophia, "I'm pleased to announce that Sophia will be taking a more prominent role in the healing center. As our future Luna of healing, she'll be overseeing all operations moving forward."

The room erupted in murmurs. Beside me, Olivia's sharp intake of breath matched my own shock. Future Luna? He was publicly positioning Sophia as my replacement, stealing my work and handing over my life's purpose to his mistress in one fell swoop.

"Victoria will, of course, continue her valuable service as a healer," Marcus added, almost as an afterthought, not even looking in my direction.

I sat there, numb, as the meeting continued around me. When it finally ended, I couldn't move, couldn't speak. Olivia stayed beside me as the room emptied, her hand on my arm.

"Victoria," she said softly when we were alone. "This has gone on long enough."

"You knew?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "About Sophia?"

Olivia's eyes filled with sympathy. "Everyone knows, Victoria. We've all seen how he treats you, how he parades her around. But his Alpha aura... no one dares speak against him."

"And now he's taking my work, my position—"

"Which is why you need to leave," Olivia interrupted, her voice urgent. "I have contacts in the Silverfang Pack. Alpha James Mitchell is looking for a head healer. Someone with your skills... you'd be valued there, Victoria. Respected."

I stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. Leave the Moonveil Pack? Reject my mate bond?

The image of Marcus's journal flashed in my mind—his meticulous plans for escaping our bond, prepared before we'd even begun our life together.

"Tell me more about Silverfang," I said, feeling something unfamiliar stirring in my chest.

It wasn't until later that I recognized the feeling for what it was: hope.

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