Betrayed Me For My Sister? I'm The Pack's Apocalypse

Pain ripped through Amy's chest. It hollowed her out from the inside, as if something were slowly tearing her soul from her body. Each breath was a struggle, threatening to shatter her completely.

Her eyes blurred with tears she refused to let fall as her gaze locked on Peter, desperate and pleading. Silently, she begged him to take it back, to see reason, to remember what she was to him: his fated mate, the one the Goddess had chosen for him. Yet the look he returned was impenetrable, as hard as stone. He didn't waver. His choice was final.

He had chosen Kathy. Her own sister.

Amy's voice cracked as she turned toward her parents, clinging to her last shred of hope.

"And you?" she asked, her gaze shifting from her father to her mother, searching for a sign, a flicker of refusal, any hint of support. "You approve of this?"

Her father seemed to shrink under the weight of her stare. His tone was even, but his words were a cruel, calculated blow. "We must think of the pack, Amy. Not just our family, but all those who count on us. This decision is bigger than any one of us."

Her mother's eyes glistened with genuine sadness, yet her words struck with the finality of a verdict. "Your sister is expecting a child, Amy. There's the baby to consider."

Amy's heart clenched so violently she thought it might stop beating altogether. She spun toward Kathy, hoping for a protest, a denial, a single gesture of sisterly loyalty.

But only a sheen of remorse filled her sister's eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Amy," Kathy murmured, her voice trembling. "I love you. I swear I didn't know Peter was your fated mate. If it weren't for the baby... I promise, I would step aside. But I can't. Not now."

Every syllable sank into Amy like another blade. The betrayal was unbearable. The people who should have protected her were the very ones destroying her. And the worst part was the way they framed it: as an honorable duty, as if sacrificing her happiness was some noble act.

Something inside her froze. An insidious cold crept through her, encasing her heart in ice. A certainty took hold: she would never look at them the same way again. They were no longer her family. They were the Beta family, devoted entirely to the pack.

The Alpha and Luna were just leaders now, not her parents. And Peter... he was no longer her fated mate. He was only the future Alpha.

She drew a slow breath, forcing down the tremor that threatened to betray her. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her break. They deserved neither her tears, nor her affection and trust.

"Then," she said, her voice surprisingly composed, almost distant, "what do you suggest, Alpha?"

A stunned silence fell over the room. No screams, no pleas, no desperate begging—only a coldness they had never known from her. Amy had always been warmth and light, the one who comforted and brought people together. Now, that light was gone.

Alpha Oswald cleared his throat, his expression grim.

"Peter and Kathy will have their union ceremony next month," he announced with cold gravity. "The pack already knows you were Peter's designated mate. You will be present, Amy. You must show your support. The unity of the pack depends on it."

Another crack splintered through her heart. Not only were they tearing her mate and her destiny away from her, but they were demanding she attend the ceremony, wear a smile, and pretend to be happy. They were making her humiliation a duty.

"So," she replied, her voice soft but with a sharp, cutting edge, "I'm supposed to give up my Goddess-blessed mate... and be grateful for it?"

"That is not what I said!" Alpha Oswald retorted, a flash of annoyance in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter," Amy cut in, her voice unyielding. "Do what you want. After all, I'm clearly not important to this pack."

"Don't say that, Amy," Kathy pleaded, tears finally streaming down her cheeks. "That's not true."

A bitter laugh escaped Amy, a hollow sound that chilled the atmosphere.

"I'm begging you," she insisted, stepping closer, her voice thick with desperation. "We love you. We know you're suffering, but we have to do what's best for the pack. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted any of this. Please, just try to understand."

She reached out to take Amy's hand, murmuring a final, broken "please."

But Amy recoiled as if she'd been burned. The sister she had once adored, the person she cherished more than anyone, was now the source of her deepest pain. And she couldn't bear it.

Her voice turned firm, final. "I need to think. I need to get away from all of you."

Without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked toward the exit, ignoring the frantic calls that erupted behind her—the apologies and pleas and justifications all blurring into meaningless noise. Nothing could reach her now.

She slammed a wall down around her heart. When their voices echoed in her mind, pleading through the pack link, she severed the connection without a second thought.

For the first time in her life, Amy was truly alone.