After My Mate Replaced Me with a Rogue Seer

The cell door creaked open, flooding the silver-lined dungeon with harsh light. I squinted, my eyes having grown accustomed to darkness after days of confinement. Two guards entered, their expressions blank as they unshackled me.

"Alpha's orders," one muttered. "You're being released."

Released. The word meant nothing when my mother was dead.

They half-dragged me through the corridors, my legs barely supporting me. The pack doctor waited in Jasper's office, syringe in hand.

"This is for your hysteria," he said, not meeting my eyes as he injected something into my arm.

The sedative worked quickly, dulling the edges of my grief. I felt Luna—my wolf—fighting against the chemical fog, but she was still too weak to break through.

"Your father survived," Jasper stated flatly from behind his desk. "Paralyzed from the waist down. He's in the infirmary."

I tried to focus through the drug haze. "And my mother?"

Sabrina's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "We had to burn her body. A cleansing fire was necessary to prevent the curse from spreading."

The room spun around me. "You burned her? Without the Moon Ceremony?"

"It was my vision," Sabrina said, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "The spirits demanded purification."

"You denied her the right to return to the Moon Goddess," I whispered, horror seeping through the sedative. "You denied me the chance to howl her spirit home."

Jasper waved dismissively. "Sabrina knows what's best for the pack. Your mother was already gone—a ceremony would have been pointless."

I stumbled from the office, my body numb with more than just the sedative. Without the Moon Ceremony, my mother's spirit would wander lost between worlds. The ultimate violation—not just of pack law, but of sacred tradition.

---

Days passed in a fog of grief and sedatives. I wandered the pack house like a ghost, ignored by most, pitied by a few. My father lay unmoving in the infirmary, his eyes the only part of him that could still show emotion—emotion that broke me every time I visited.

One afternoon, while the pack house was quiet, I found myself drawn to Sabrina's quarters. The door was unlocked—she never bothered securing it, so confident was she in her position.

I shouldn't have entered. But Luna pushed me forward, her senses sharper than mine.

*Smell it,* she urged.

I inhaled deeply, past the cloying floral perfume that saturated the room. Beneath it lurked something acrid and wrong—a mixture of sulfur and rot that made my stomach turn.

The source was her vanity table. I rifled through bottles and jars until my fingers brushed against something hidden behind a loose panel. A small wooden box slid out, its contents making my blood run cold.

Crushed wolfsbane—enough to poison an entire pack. And beside it, high-grade scent maskers used by Rogues to hide their true nature.

"Find what you're looking for?"

I whirled around. Sabrina stood in the doorway, her eyes glittering with malice.

"These are yours," I said, holding up the box. "You're using wolfsbane to fake your 'pure' aura. You're a Rogue."

She laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Take your evidence to Jasper. See who he believes."

I did. An hour later, I stood before Jasper's desk, the box open between us.

"She's a fraud," I said, my voice stronger than it had been in months. "She's using wolfsbane and scent maskers."

Sabrina's performance was flawless. Tears filled her eyes as she clutched Jasper's arm. "I confiscated these from a traitorous maid," she sobbed. "I was waiting for the right moment to tell you."

Jasper's face darkened with rage—not at Sabrina, but at me.

"You dare accuse my Seer?" he roared, rising from his chair.

The blow came without warning. His hand connected with my cheek, sending me sprawling across the floor.

"Never," he snarled, looming over me, "accuse her again."

---

The next morning, Sabrina cornered me in the hallway. Her eyes were alight with triumph as she leaned close.

"I've had another vision," she whispered. "Your father can walk again."

Hope flared in my chest despite everything.

"There's a Moon Stone in the Deadlands," she continued, her voice carrying just enough for nearby pack members to hear. "It's the only cure for his paralysis."

The Deadlands. The crumbling cliffs where Rogues gathered, where even warriors feared to tread.

"If you truly love your father," she said loudly, "you'll bring it back."

Jasper appeared behind her, his expression calculating. "Yes," he agreed. "This is your chance to make amends for your false accusations."

"You want me to go alone?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"It's the only way to prove your loyalty," Sabrina said sweetly. "Unless you don't really care about your father's suffering?"

Jasper's eyes hardened. "You leave at dawn tomorrow. Alone."

As they walked away, Sabrina glanced back over her shoulder, her smile promising death.

Little did she know that death was exactly what awaited me in the Deadlands—just not in the way she planned.