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Bound to the Broken Alpha Novel Cover

Bound to the Broken Alpha

My half-sister mastered the rare art of truth-speaking. In her lifetime, she could only speak three truths. But each one would come to pass. “I wish for my brother to rise to prominence.” My half-brother, Jayce Gordon, became a respected Gamma, basking in his newfound status. “I wish for my mother to be elevated to Luna.” My mother, the Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, died suddenly, and her stepmother, Rosemary Harvey, took her place as the pack’s matriarch. “And finally—” She glared at me with venom in her eyes, her lips twisting into a cruel smile. “I wish for my sister to be rejected by her mate and forced to bond with a rogue. Barren and cursed, yet surrounded by descendants!” Her words became reality. I was cast out of the Silver Moon Pack, left to wander as a rogue, and bound to Cruz Ellis, a scarred and broken werewolf with a damaged aura. But how could a rogue have descendants?
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Chapter 3

I was cast out of the Crimson Fang Pack with nothing to my name.

Even the clothes I wore were stripped from me by the omegas, leaving only a thin, damp undershirt clinging to my skin. The rain had soaked through it, making it nearly transparent.

My half-sister, Mabel Morgan, approached surrounded by her entourage, wrapped in a luxurious fur coat, a heated stone clutched in her hands. Her scent, a mix of rosemary and bitterness, wafted toward me, sharp and mocking.

"The former Delta has quite the figure, doesn’t she?" her servant Monica sneered, stepping forward and addressing the pack warriors nearby. "What do you think, boys?"

The warriors, rough and crude, erupted into laughter and whistles, their eyes raking over me with lecherous glee.

"She’s got more curves than the finest omega in the market!" one jeered.

"Imagine getting a taste of that," another added, his voice dripping with vulgarity.

"Who needs to imagine? She’s a rogue’s mate now—fair game!"

I stood there, my heart numb, my head bowed.

Monica grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet her cold, sneering gaze. "Can’t handle a little humiliation, Delta? You’ve got decades of this ahead of you. Better get used to it!"

With that, she spat on me, her saliva hitting my cheek as she and the others turned to follow Mabel, their laughter echoing in the cold air.

The sky was clear, the faint scent of pine and damp earth lingering in the breeze. The oak trees outside the pack house were bare, their leaves scattered on the ground.

I stood frozen, letting the spit dry on my skin. My eyes drifted to the stone wolves guarding the entrance.

Years ago, an omega had been falsely accused of theft and cast out. She had thrown herself against those statues, her blood staining the ground.

I had laughed at her then, called her weak. Now, I understood. In this world, a woman without protection was better off dead.

I walked forward, as if in a trance, imagining the cold stone against my forehead, the release it would bring.

But Cruz Ellis pulled me back.

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