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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 4

Ainsley POV:

I walked out of the study and into the master bedroom. I stripped the sheets off the bed-sheets Damian had slept in. I tore the curtains down. I opened every window, letting the cold autumn rain blow in, washing away the stench of his lies.

I went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Rows of brown bottles lined the shelves. "Daily Tonic," the labels read in Damian's neat handwriting. "For Constitution Support."

I took one down and uncorked it. It smelled of elderberry and something metallic.

My wolf recoiled violently. 'Poison!' she screamed in my mind.

I didn't pour it down the sink. I capped it and put it in my pocket. Evidence.

Ten minutes later, I heard the heavy front door open.

"Alpha," Graham's voice boomed from the foyer.

I met him at the top of the stairs. Graham was a mountain of a man, scarred and grey-haired, wearing a leather jacket that smelled of rain and gun oil. He looked up at me, and for the first time in years, he didn't look at me with pity. He looked at me with respect.

"He's gone," I said.

"I saw the Porsche leaving the territory limits," Graham nodded. "He was driving erratically."

"He's going to the hospital. He claims the child, Jaxson, has a fever."

Graham frowned. "I checked the hospital logs on my way here. There are no admissions for a Jaxson Valdez. And the pediatric wing is closed for renovations."

"He lied," I said, feeling a cold smile tug at my lips. "Of course he lied. He just wanted to make me feel guilty."

"Or," Graham said, climbing the stairs to hand me a thick manila folder, "he's going to the Regional Medical Summit. It starts tonight at the convention center downtown."

I took the folder. "The Summit?"

"He's the keynote speaker," Graham said. "He's presenting a paper on 'Lineage Preservation.' He plans to announce a breakthrough in treating Alpha infertility."

My hand tightened on the folder. "Let me guess. He's going to use my case study as the failure, and his 'adopted' children as the success story."

"Exactly," Graham said. "He wants to convince the Council to let him legitimize those kids and name them as your heirs."

I opened the folder. It contained bank statements, surveillance photos, and something else-a medical file from a clinic in Mexico.

"You've been busy, Graham."

'"I couldn't come to you sooner," Graham rasped, his expression dark. "He had me boxed in. He threatened to have you committed to the Asylum if I stepped out of line, and he controlled the entire medical board. I've been gathering this evidence in the shadows for two years, waiting for a crack in his armor. I finally decrypted his private cloud server this morning."'

I looked at the medical file. The date was from five years ago. Two weeks before our wedding.

'Patient: Damian Hicks.'

'Procedure: Vasectomy with Silver Clamp Implantation.'

The room spun. Silver prevents wolf regeneration. It was permanent.

"He's sterile," I whispered. "He did it on purpose."

"Keep reading," Graham said softly.

I flipped the page to a toxicology report. 'It was dated today-Graham must have run the sample immediately after decrypting the files.'

'Substance: Aconitum Napellus. Wolfsbane.'

He hadn't just failed to cure me. He had been actively poisoning me every single morning for five years. He made me barren, then blamed me for it.

I closed the folder. The rage that filled me now wasn't hot. It was ice cold. It was the calm before the avalanche.

"Get the car, Graham," I said. "I think I'd like to attend this Summit."

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