
His Betrayed Mate Is A Famous Healer
What if the mate you waited for two years chooses your sister as his luna instead of you? Would you agree to be his mistress like he wanted?
This was Annette's fate. Being the unloved daughter of the family, mistreated and bullied wasn't enough. Now her mate called her 'useless' and wasted her two years of hope.
Be the alpha's mistress or the prime minister's seventh wife...
Annette chose none and escaped from the pack. When she becomes the famous healer in the lycan clan and all over the world, then crosses paths with the mate who betrayed her, what would be her fate?
Will she accept back the mate who had searched for her for over a year, or finally end their matebond?
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Chapter 4
Immediately after the driver parked at the side of the road, I grabbed my veil again and covered my head. I handed over to him the sack where I had put the dress and said to him, "Thank you, but I don't have to fall into their trap. I have to go alone from here." I whispered and was trying to open the door when he held my wrist.
I turned to look at him, my breath caught in my throat. "No need for you to leave. We can pass by them without them finding out it was you," he said, his tone was convincing enough, but I had lived all my life trusting no one. "I mean it. I have a mask here that can help."
As he let go of my hand, he opened a part of his car and brought out a little box. I watched as he opened the box and brought out a skin color material from it, and stretched his hand towards me. "If you mask your face with it, they wouldn't know that it was you and would let us pass. I have heard of how brutal the werewolf gammas are, so I think you aren't telling lies against them."
I fumbled my palms together, conflicted. I hadn't ever told lies to anyone except him, and now he was helping me. Maybe it was better to have him know nothing about me. If there was a prize for anyone who found me, he wouldn't hesitate to hand me over if I revealed that I was the one wanted.
He gave a single nod, urging me to take the mask from him. "It doesn't have any side effects," he said with a smile.
I didn't need to waste time any longer, so he didn't change his mind, so I took the mask, and he helped me put it on.
For this kind gesture and understanding, he was indeed a human, because no werewolf would agree to what I had just said.
After putting it on, he allowed me to take a look at my face through the rearview of the car, and I couldn't believe what I looked like. My eyes widened in shock at the new person staring back at me. There was no clue of Annette any longer, but a new, beautiful female face that might not exist in this pack.
"Then we can now go, and they wouldn't find out you were the one," he said and chuckled, then started the car again.
Still, my heart raced in fear. I didn't trust that the mask would do a good thing to hide me very well, not until we passed the border and the gammas let us move on, since they didn't find Annette anymore.
I released a heavy breath that hung in my throat immediately we drove some miles away from them, then I slowly began getting the mask off my face. I hadn't known that such a thing existed until now, but one thing I was scared of was how much the driver would charge me for rendering the help, and if the dress would still serve the purpose.
He handed over the box to me to drop the mask into it, and I did so. I waited patiently for him to mention that my pay had increased, rather he began telling me stories of everything he had encountered as a driver, which made him always have the mask with him in his car.
"If not for this mask, my family would have murdered me a long time ago. I wear it whenever I enter human land, and for my safety, I live in a remote town where no one would ever think of coming," he had stated at the end, and my muscles weakened.
How could families be this cruel? He was an illegitimate child of their father, and this was why the whole family despised him, including his father. He had lost his mother, who had suffered to protect him, and now he was phobic about making a family.
There was no room for me to advise him, because after the hell I passed through in my father's house, and the worst betrayal from my mate, I was certain enough that making a family wasn't for me either. I would only strive to make a living and save enough for my old days.
He told me lots of stories to keep the ride moving, and after several hours of long rides, we entered the lycan clan. It was my first time coming into the clan, and it had taken us over ten hours to enter the clan.
As far as I knew, werewolves do not cooperate with the lycans as much as they do with the humans, so coming after me in the lycan clan was one uneasy thing for them to do.
As the driver said, he drove me to his friend, a female whom he said saved him back in the days when he was homeless and didn't have a dime to sustain himself. "She is a werewolf and would do a good job as a bartender," the driver explained to the woman.
I bowed to her, wearing a slight smile. She was younger than I expected, and looked like she wasn't married.
"My name is Penelope, and I will be your Boss," she stretched out her hand for a greeting, which I accepted with a grin. "You will serve people at the club, and you will choose the best time for you. But if you feel uncomfortable doing it, then there are so many tasks around. Cooking, washing the dishes, cleaning the environment, and so on. There are no werewolves here, too, so you are safe in my hands."
I glanced at the driver, whom I didn't even know his name, and I knew I owed this man. I was so grateful that I thought no amount of money would pay for his kindness.
"Honestly, I am fast cleaner, and do that better. Most times, I make a mistake serving people, but I will never let the surroundings become untidy. So, I would prefer being a cleaner." I said to the lady, and she nodded. But the truth was that I didn't want to be walking around, serving people whom I wasn't sure if they knew me or not.
It was great news that no werewolves were working in the club, so I should also be careful with myself.
"Then I will have to take you from here," Penelope said and gestured to the way I should follow.
I turned to the driver, unsure how to show how happy I was, but after exchanging pleasantries with him, he promised to always show up through Penelope if I needed his help, then I left with the lady.
She took me to the room where I would stay, and according to her, there were about two more females in the room who worked for her. So with me, we would be three, and it looked so much more comfortable compared to where I stayed in my father's house.
"I will have my manager get you some dresses, including your working dress, and other things you would need as a lady. Normally, it's supposed to be deducted from your salary. But because of Cornelius and the condition you came with, I would offer it all for free, and you get your complete salary," the lady narrated.
I couldn't help but get to my knees, yet she rushed and forced me up to my feet. "How do I pay you back?" I asked, tears gathered in my eyes.
She smiled, "Just do a nice job."
-
The next day, I dressed up like every other person and came out for the morning assembly, as they called it. I was introduced to others and then to my fellow cleaners, and for goddess' sake, they were so friendly.
Among us were humans, lycans, and I was the only werewolf. I was assigned to work until 12 pm with another fair human lady, and the others were also assigned their time of work.
Although it was a huge compound and there were so many places to clean, I loved it so much; the peace of mind, how cheerful my colleague was, how the Boss didn't pressure us like back in my father's house. Once it was 12 pm, the next set took over, so I rushed to see the boss and know what I was supposed to do next.
I couldn't believe my eyes when I stepped into her room. She was bleeding from a deep cut, and the healer was doing everything in his power to stop the bleeding.
"Are you done?" she asked, and I nodded. "Then that's it for today. Take a rest for tomorrow."
What was she saying? Would I stay idle until the next day?
I was drawn out of my daze when she winced painfully, her face flushed red and her palms clenched tightly to her sides.
"Can I do it? It's becoming difficult to stop the bleeding, and you would pass out if you lost so much blood." I said, my heart pounding in fear that she would scold me.
I wanted to be a healer, not just because I needed to make money and fame, but because I was born with the gift and grace. I had helped several servants in my father's house heal from their cuts. Some of them I get herbs for, and they heal when they are sick. I had always taken care of myself in that aspect since my family didn't care, so I was sure I could stop the bleeding.
The healer stood and, with a contorted face, asked me, "Where is the proof that you are a certified healer?" I saw a glint of anger and jealousy on his face, and I lowered my head.
I was about to leave when Penelope called me back. "Come and do it, but if you fail, I will report you to the lycan king for playing with my life. And if you stop it, I will make sure to train you until you become a certified healer..."
"Lady?!" the male healer mentioned, his eyes widened in shock.
I bowed slightly and walked closer to Penelope, then squatted before her. "I accept, but could you tell the doctor to share his materials with me? I don't have mine, and going out to get them would take time."
She didn't say a thing but looked up to the healer, and the man dropped his kit before twitching out of the room angrily.
"He's the best healer in this clan, so he is scared that someone might steal his spot," Penelope whispered to me and patted my shoulder.
Deep down, I was frightened. I had always done this, but the wounds aren't always this deep. If I failed, that would be the end of me, because the lycan king was said to be a demon himself...and I would regret not being a mistress or a seventh wife.
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7.5
I spent three weeks scrubbing carbonized grease off woks at the Jade Garden, hiding my elite tactical training behind raw knuckles and a practiced, submissive stutter. My mission was the only thing keeping me sane: finding my sister, Elena, who vanished into thin air after her phone last pinged near the city’s Restricted Sector.
The breakthrough came when my boss, a bully named Uncle Wong, forced me to take a delivery to 101 Blackwood Drive—a high-security fortress where the drivers whispered that people went in and never came back right. It was a geographic match for Elena's last known location, but as I rode my battered scooter toward the massive steel gates, I realized I wasn't just investigating a lead; I was walking into a spider's web.
The mansion was a monolith of cold concrete and military-grade surveillance, owned by Hugh Bradford, a billionaire who controlled the city’s elite like puppets. During my delivery, the magnetic locks hissed shut, the lights died, and I was plunged into absolute darkness with a predator who didn't want my money. Bradford pinned me against a stainless steel counter and did something unthinkable: he sank his teeth into my shoulder, using the rhythm of my frantic pulse to anchor his own fractured mind.
I escaped with a bruised neck and a thousand-dollar "tip," feeling the crushing weight of his violation and the terrifying realization that my "clumsy immigrant" act hadn't fooled him for a second. I didn't understand why a man of his power would treat a delivery girl like a biological drug, or what he had done to the other girls who had vanished behind those black glass walls.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I realized I was being hunted by a man who could buy and sell my life a thousand times over.
"You're terrified," he had whispered in the dark, and for the first time in years, I wasn't faking it.
Back in my apartment, I found a note tucked inside the cash that confirmed my worst fears:
"For the inconvenience. See you Tuesday."
He thinks he’s found a new toy to play with, but he just gave me the one thing I needed to find my sister—an invitation to go back inside and finish what I started.

9.2
"Isabella this is the right time for you to choose between me or Hector, because any one you choose now will be your husband till the contract end."
"Think well Isabella don't make mistake."
She spilled coffee on the wrong man.
Isabella Ramirez is drowning in debt, exhaustion, and fear-working double shifts to keep her dying mother alive. One mistake in a crowded café brings her face-to-face with Alejandro De La Vega, a billionaire feared for his cold heart and ruthless power.
His punishment is cruel.
His offer is worse.
One year as his wife in exchange for her family's freedom.
But inside his mansion, Isabella learns that marriage without love is a cage. Betrayal hides behind charming smiles.
A former wife returns with secrets. A cousin watches from the shadows. And the contract that binds her may destroy her heart.
When lies explode and power turns brutal, Isabella must choose between survival and love-before she loses herself completely.
Tropes
Contract Marriage
Poor Girl × Billionaire CEO
Forced Proximity
Inheritance Deadline
Emotional Abuse & Redemption
Love vs Power
Public Scandal
Love Triangle
One True Love

7.3
Five years ago, he had abandoned her, betrayed her, destroyed her company when she had trusted him and needed him the most.
Five years later, Evelyn was back for revenge. She would return everything he had done to her tenfold, and to do that, she needed to live in the same house with him again.
"Ex-husband, let's sign a marriage contract again!" Evelyn demanded after barging into her ex-husband's party.
"Okay."
****
She had sworn to frustrate and destroy his life as they live under the same roof but who can tell Evelyn why everything was different from what she had expected?
Who was this man cajoling her every request? Why is her ex-husband who's supposed to be an enemy looking at her dotingly?
Ex-husband, this was supposed to be a fierce revenge battle, not a love battle!

7.9
Ten minutes. That was how close I was to handing my fiancé the keys to a three-hundred-million-dollar empire built on my code.
But when I walked into the office, his mistress was sitting in my chair, spinning the pen I bought him for our anniversary.
Caleb didn't even look up. He told me the investors wanted stability, not a pregnant woman. He called our unborn child a "liability" and ordered security to escort me out of the building I paid for.
I went home to pack, only to find a burner phone hidden in the closet. The texts were brutal. He called me an "incubator." He said once the deal was signed, he’d take the baby and dump the "nerd."
When he caught me with the phone, he didn't apologize. He dragged me by my hair and threw me into the soundproof panic room to keep me quiet until the deal closed.
"Caleb, please! I'm bleeding!"
I pounded on the steel door until my hands were raw. But he just locked it and went to eat pizza with his mistress.
Alone in the dark, on the freezing concrete, I felt the life inside me slip away. He hadn't just stolen my company; he had killed my child.
He thought I was broken. He thought I was just "the help." But he forgot one thing: I built the security system he was trying to sell.
Three days later, I rolled my wheelchair into his victory press conference, flanked by his biggest rival.
"Do you trust your new code, Caleb?"
"Because I wrote the backdoor. And I just opened it."

8.9
"Are you sure, Jake? I can be a very bad girl," I purred sexily, brushing my hands lightly over his pants. He stiffened and grabbed my hands.
"Bad girls get punished," He snarled.
"Would you like to punish me then?"
** ** **
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7.9
I sat in a private hospital suite that cost more than a luxury car, watching the green line on my daughter's heart monitor struggle to climb.
Everything shattered when a hospital administrator accidentally dropped a folder, revealing a document with my husband's unmistakable signature. Darius Brandt had personally authorized the "reallocation" of our daughter's donor kidney to his mistress's son just to secure a multi-million dollar corporate merger.
When I confronted him, Darius didn't even blink, calling our daughter's life a "liquidated asset" before offering me a five-million-dollar settlement for my silence. In a blind rage, I set our penthouse on fire, choosing to burn with the proof of his betrayal rather than live another day as his puppet.
As the flames consumed the room, I couldn't understand how a father could put a price tag on his own child's life. How could he look at our dying daughter and see nothing but a resource to be traded for a European distribution network?
But the heat suddenly vanished, replaced by the scent of expensive perfume and the muffled sound of a string quartet.
I opened my eyes to find myself staring into a gold-framed mirror at the Brandt Charity Gala, exactly eight years in the past.
It was the night my nightmare first began, the night I was framed and forced into a marriage that would eventually kill my child.
"I see you, Darius," I whispered to my reflection as I applied a coat of blood-red lipstick.
"And this time, I'm not the prey."