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Betrayed By My Alpha Mate Novel Cover

Betrayed By My Alpha Mate

Betrayal shatters everything when a high-ranking Alpha rejects his fated mate for power and status. Cast aside and broken, the female protagonist must navigate a world of shifting pack loyalties and ancient werewolf traditions. As she seeks a path to reclaim her dignity, she discovers hidden strengths that threaten the hierarchy. This fantasy romance explores the painful bond of fated pairs and the resilience required to survive a mate's ultimate cruelty.
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Chapter 1

The day I left the pack’s healing den, I unexpectedly saw Alpha Grant with Harlow at the prenatal clinic. Watching him support her with that tender smile felt like a blade twisting in my chest. When he turned and noticed me, surprise flickered across his face, but he quickly masked it. We played our parts as strangers, exchanging polite words in front of Harlow. It was a stark contrast to the scene later, when he lost his composure after seeing me in Axel’s arms on the street.

After spending days recovering in the healing den, I was finally ready to leave. I had arranged for a decent outfit to be brought to me, determined to shed the lingering scent of illness that clung to me. Carrying a small bag of my belongings, I walked out of the den, the crisp air hitting my face.

"Alpha Grant!"

A voice I recognized all too well made me freeze. My heart clenched as I turned toward it. Not far off stood Harlow, her arm linked with Grant’s, his hand resting gently on her belly, protective of the new life growing within her. The sight was a brutal reminder of everything I had lost. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

That’s when Grant noticed me. His body tensed, and his eyes locked with mine. Harlow followed his gaze, her smile softening as she turned back to him. "Do you know her?" she asked, her voice light and curious.

Grant nodded, his tone carefully neutral. "Yes, we trained together in our youth."

"Should we go say hello?" Harlow suggested, her hand still resting on her belly.

They walked toward me, their closeness making me feel like an outsider in my own life.

"It’s been a while," I managed to say, my voice strained. I was painfully aware of how awkward I must have looked, my pallor still evident despite my efforts. Grant didn’t pry, sticking to small talk.

"How have you been?" he asked, his tone polite but distant.

"Okay," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.

My eyes flicked to Harlow’s belly, and I forced a smile. "I’ve got to go. Take care, and… all the best."

With that, I turned and walked away quickly, my heart pounding. Even though the healer had advised against overexertion, I couldn’t stand there and watch Grant share a bond with Harlow that I had never been allowed to have.

I knew her—Harlow Graham, the Delta Grant had admired since their youth. She was carrying his pup now. Clutching my own stomach, I found a bench in a nearby park and sat down, my hands trembling.

Just ten days ago, I had been shopping in the pack’s marketplace when the elevator broke down, forcing me to take the stairs. As I descended from the fourth floor, someone shoved me from behind. I lost my footing and tumbled down, hitting my head and feeling the world spin into darkness.

When I woke up, the healer told me I had lost the pup—over a month along, and I hadn’t even known. There was no one to care for me, no one to call.

Grant was out of the question. He had always been distant, our only contact at night when he insisted on holding me as he slept. He was away on pack business, likely unconcerned with my whereabouts. I had survived those ten days alone, relying on the kindness of the healers and the occasional visit from Amanda, an Omega who worked in the Duncan household.

Eventually, I gathered my strength and made my way out of the healing den, arranging for a ride back to the packhouse.

When I returned to that cold, empty home, Grant wasn’t there. He was probably still with Harlow, as usual. The house felt more like a prison than a sanctuary, and I couldn’t shake the heaviness in my chest.

Exhausted, I headed upstairs to shower and rest.

But as I stepped out of the bathroom, I nearly collided with Grant coming up the stairs. I instinctively stepped back, wary of irritating him.

"What were you doing at the healing den today?" he asked, his voice unexpectedly soft.

He never asked such things, and I hesitated, unsure how to respond. His slight smile reminded me of the tenderness he had shown Harlow earlier.

"I was picking up herbs for my father," I lied, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.

Grant seemed to accept my answer, his expression softening. "Take care of yourself," he murmured as he brushed past me.

I nodded silently, retreating to my room. As I lay down, he entered moments later, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close.

"You’ve lost weight," he said, his breath warm against my ear. "Have you been eating properly?"

I nodded again, keeping my eyes closed, unwilling to let him see the pain he caused.

"Take care of yourself," he whispered again, his voice softer now. "Your family wouldn’t understand otherwise."

His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. I stayed silent, my heart aching as I drifted into a restless sleep.

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