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Betrayed for a Mistress: The True Alpha Rises Novel Cover

Betrayed for a Mistress: The True Alpha Rises

For five years, my husband Damian fed me a bitter daily "tonic," claiming it was to help my fragile health. He told the entire pack I was a "withered wolf," too broken to shift and too barren to give him an heir. I believed him, until the new nanny walked in wearing my silk robe, smelling of my perfume and his sweat. Damian didn't even try to hide it. He demanded I sign a check to support his mistress's five children, sneering that since my womb was a "graveyard," I should pay for his legacy. He planned to humiliate me publicly at the Medical Summit, using me as a case study of failure to legitimize his illegitimate brood. But he made a fatal mistake. He thought I was too weak to check the books. My loyal Beta brought me the truth just hours before the speech. The tonic wasn't medicine; it was Wolfsbane, designed to suppress my Alpha wolf. And the infertility? It wasn't me. Medical records proved Damian had a vasectomy weeks before our wedding. He had been poisoning me and gaslighting me for half a decade to steal my fortune. I injected a dangerous stimulant to clear the fog and crashed his stage. I didn't just expose his sterility to the world; I stripped him of his rank and exiled him as a Rogue. As security dragged the screaming traitor away, a scent hit me—thunderstorms and raw, terrifying power. Alistair Finch, the most dangerous Alpha on the coast, rose from the VIP section. He walked straight to me, sparks flying as he touched my skin. "He is nothing," Alistair growled, pulling me into his arms. "And you are finally Mine."
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Chapter 1

For five years, my husband Damian fed me a bitter daily "tonic," claiming it was to help my fragile health.

He told the entire pack I was a "withered wolf," too broken to shift and too barren to give him an heir.

I believed him, until the new nanny walked in wearing my silk robe, smelling of my perfume and his sweat.

Damian didn't even try to hide it.

He demanded I sign a check to support his mistress's five children, sneering that since my womb was a "graveyard," I should pay for his legacy.

He planned to humiliate me publicly at the Medical Summit, using me as a case study of failure to legitimize his illegitimate brood.

But he made a fatal mistake. He thought I was too weak to check the books.

My loyal Beta brought me the truth just hours before the speech.

The tonic wasn't medicine; it was Wolfsbane, designed to suppress my Alpha wolf.

And the infertility? It wasn't me. Medical records proved Damian had a vasectomy weeks before our wedding.

He had been poisoning me and gaslighting me for half a decade to steal my fortune.

I injected a dangerous stimulant to clear the fog and crashed his stage.

I didn't just expose his sterility to the world; I stripped him of his rank and exiled him as a Rogue.

As security dragged the screaming traitor away, a scent hit me—thunderstorms and raw, terrifying power.

Alistair Finch, the most dangerous Alpha on the coast, rose from the VIP section.

He walked straight to me, sparks flying as he touched my skin.

"He is nothing," Alistair growled, pulling me into his arms. "And you are finally Mine."

Chapter 1

Ainsley POV:

The numbers on the spreadsheet swam before my eyes, blurring into a sea of meaningless red ink. I pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to massage away the headache that had become my constant companion over the last five years.

"Just sign the transfer, Ainsley," Damian said, 'checking his reflection in the window.' "It's a simple request."

I looked up at my husband. He was handsome in a conventional way-blonde hair, blue eyes-but his jaw was soft. He lacked the rugged edge of a true Alpha, though he tried hard to fake it.

"One hundred thousand dollars is not a simple request, Damian," I said, my voice raspy. My throat always felt dry, no matter how much water I drank. "We just funded the new wing of the pack hospital. Cash flow is tight."

"It's for the household staff," he insisted, turning to face me. "Specifically, a bonus for Casey. She's been working overtime with the estate management since you've been... indisposed."

Indisposed. That was his favorite word for my condition.

For five years, ever since we married, my health had deteriorated. My inner wolf-the primal spirit that lives within every shifter-had gone silent. I couldn't shift. I couldn't heal. The pack doctors, led by Damian himself, said it was a genetic defect. A "withered wolf."

"Casey," I repeated. The new nanny. The Omega female Damian had hired six months ago to help around the house.

Just then, the heavy oak door creaked open.

"Sir? The car is ready," a soft, feminine voice chimed in.

Casey walked in. She wasn't wearing her uniform. She was draped in a silk robe-emerald green, with lace trim.

My breath hitched. That was 'my' robe.

But it wasn't the sight of her that made my stomach churn. It was the smell.

Wolves live by their noses. Even in my weakened state, my olfactory senses were sharper than a human's. And as Casey stepped into the room, a wave of scent hit me.

It was a cloying mixture of sweat, expensive vanilla, and... sandalwood.

'Sandalwood and Amber.'

My heart skipped a beat. That was 'Midnight Sovereign'. My custom-made perfume from Paris. I had lost the bottle three weeks ago.

And underneath the perfume?

The unmistakable, musky tang of sex. Fresh sex. It mingled with Damian's own scent-mint and antiseptic-creating a nauseating cocktail that filled the room.

Casey froze when she saw me sitting up. She blinked, surprised. "Oh. I thought you were... asleep."

She didn't apologize. She just pulled the lapels of my robe tighter, hiding a fresh, reddish mark on her neck.

Somewhere deep in the back of my mind, in the dark recess where my wolf had been sleeping, a low growl vibrated. It was faint, like distant thunder, but it was there.

'Thief,' a voice whispered in my head. 'Betrayer.'

"Why are you wearing my robe?" I asked. My voice was quiet, but the tremor in it wasn't weakness anymore. It was rage.

Casey didn't flinch. In a normal pack, an Omega would bare their neck to an Alpha out of instinctual submission. But Casey stood tall, a smirk playing on her lips. She looked at Damian, not me.

"Oh, this?" she giggled, touching the silk lapel. "I spilled coffee on my shirt. Damian said I could borrow something from the donation pile."

"The donation pile?" I stood up. The room spun, but I gripped the edge of the mahogany desk until my knuckles turned white. "That is vintage silk. And those earrings..."

My eyes locked onto her ears. Diamonds set in platinum, shaped like the howling wolf crest of the Pierce family. My grandmother's earrings.

"They're just costume jewelry," Damian cut in quickly. I could hear his heart rate pick up. 'Thump-thump-thump.' The sound of a liar. "Don't be petty, Ainsley. She's helping us."

"Come here," I commanded.

Damian stepped between us. "Ainsley, sit down. You're getting hysterical again. You know what the doctor said about your stress levels."

"I said, come here!" I slammed my hand on the desk.

The sound echoed like a gunshot.

Damian looked at me, annoyed. "This is exactly why the Elders question your ability to lead, Ainsley. You're unstable. You can't even give the pack an heir, and now you're bullying the help."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial of blue liquid. "You need your tonic."

I looked at the vial. Then I looked at Casey, who was now leaning against the doorframe, watching us with a look of bored superiority.

I inhaled deeply again. The scent of their intimacy was overwhelming. It wasn't just a fling. The pheromones were stale, layered. They had been doing this for a long time.

"You're sleeping with her," I stated.

The room went deadly silent.

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