Leave that ruthless Alpha

Hours later, I sat alone in our bedroom. The walls felt like a cage.

"Three years," I whispered to the empty room.

I held a silver combat medal in my palm, tracing the engraved edges.

"We met at eighteen," I told the shadows, my voice cracking. "You looked at me across the training field and claimed I was the only one fierce enough to be your Luna. We learned hand-to-hand combat at the university. We fought rogue packs side-by-side. I was your best warrior."

I tossed the medal into the trash can. It clanged against the metal bin.

"You were fucking her while I guarded your borders."

A sharp ache twisted in my chest. The mate bond, once a thick cable of golden energy, began to splinter. It frayed at the edges, sending agonizing spikes of rejection through my nervous system.

Then, the pain shifted.

A heavy, pulsing heat surged through the connection. It wasn't my emotion. It was Anson's arousal.

I shoved the wheels of my chair. The rubber spun against the floorboards. I rolled out of the bedroom and down the hallway toward the guest wing.

Moans drifted through the cracked door of the end suite.

"Fuck, Diana," Anson groaned. "Fuck."

"Harder, Anson," a woman whimpered. "Widen my pussy. Give it to me."

I slammed the door open. It crashed against the wall.

They didn't stop immediately. Anson stood at the edge of the mattress, pinning Diana’s legs back. He drove his cock into her cunt, his hips slapping loudly against her thighs.

"Take my fucking knot," he grunted, biting down on her bare shoulder.

"Anson!" I screamed.

He froze. He yanked himself out of her, his erection shining with wetness in the dim light. He scrambled backward, grabbing a pillow to cover his crotch.

"Wendy," he stammered. His face flushed scarlet.

"Is this the trauma you were treating?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"It’s not what you think," he said.

"You broke my legs!" Tears spilled over my eyelashes. "I gave you my youth. My loyalty. And you bred a bastard pup with her three years ago!"

"Keep your voice down," Anson hissed, shooting a panicked look at the hallway.

"Why?" I yelled. "Afraid the elders will hear? Afraid they'll find out their Alpha ordered his doctor to sever his mate's nerves just to move his whore into the house?"

"Shut your mouth," he warned. He took a threatening step toward my chair. "You are hysterical."

"I am stating facts!"

Diana sat up. She stretched her arms, her bare breasts shifting. She didn't reach for a blanket.

"Alpha," she purred, tracing a finger down his chest. "My dress is in the bathroom. Fetch it for me?"

Anson blinked, looking between us. "Diana, I need to handle this."

"I'm cold, Anson," she whined, pouting her lips. "Go."

He grabbed his jeans from the floor. He pulled them on rapidly, refusing to look at my face.

"Stay here," he ordered me. "We will talk about this when I get back."

He hurried into the attached bathroom, pulling the door shut behind him.

Diana swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stood up, completely naked, and walked toward me. A vicious smirk stretched across her face.

"Look at the invincible warrior of Nightveil Pack," she taunted.

"Put some clothes on, you disgust me," I spat.

She laughed. A bright, ringing sound that didn't belong in a confrontation. She grabbed the handles of my wheelchair.

"You're a useless cripple," she whispered.

She violently shoved the chair backward.

The wheels caught on the rug. The chair tipped. I flailed, reaching for the doorframe, but my fingers only caught air.

I crashed onto the hardwood. Pain exploded in my shoulder. My paralyzed legs twisted into an unnatural angle beneath the overturned metal frame.

"A broken toy," Diana sneered, standing over me. "Anson doesn't want a piece of trash in his bed. He wants me."

I dug my elbows into the floor, dragging my upper body forward.

"He's a coward," I growled. "And you're a parasite."

Diana's eyes flicked toward the bathroom door. The handle rattled.

She immediately dropped to her knees. She raked her own fingernails down her forearm, tearing the skin until thick lines of blood surfaced.

Then, she threw herself backward against the wooden nightstand.

"Ahhh!" she shrieked. "Wendy, stop! Please!"

The bathroom door flew open. Anson rushed out, holding a green silk dress. He dropped the fabric instantly.

"Diana!" he yelled.

He fell to his knees beside her, inspecting her bleeding arm.

"What happened?" he demanded.

"She attacked me," Diana sobbed. Real tears streamed down her face. She buried her head in his neck. "She dragged herself over and clawed me. She said she's going to murder Judy next!"

Anson's head snapped toward me. His eyes burned with pure hatred.

"You lying bitch," I said, pointing at Diana. "She pushed my chair over! She scratched herself!"

"You are paralyzed!" Anson roared. "Diana wouldn't touch you. You've always been aggressive. Always violent."

"Are you blind?" I shouted. "Look at the chair!"

"I see a jealous, broken female who can't accept reality," he sneered.

He scooped Diana into his arms, lifting her against his chest.

"If you ever threaten my family again, I will strip you of your title and banish you to the wastelands," he promised.

He turned his back on me and carried her out of the room.

I lay on the floor, surrounded by the wreckage of my chair.

Deep inside my chest, the mate bond gave one final, agonizing pull. Then, it snapped.

A hollow silence echoed through my body. He was gone. The connection was dead.

I pressed my forehead against the cold wood. I didn't cry anymore. The grief burned away, leaving only cold, sharp resolve.

I dragged myself toward the overturned wheelchair. My arms shook with the effort. I managed to right the heavy metal frame, hauling my dead legs back onto the footrests.

I stared at the empty doorway. Nightveil was no longer my home. It was my prison.

I needed to pack. I needed to run.

But how does a crippled wolf escape a fortress she designed herself?