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Shattered Fated Mate Bond Novel Cover

Shattered Fated Mate Bond

The little gray pup whimpered as I gently wrapped his paw with a bandage, his amber eyes wide with trust that made my heart ache. "It's just a small cut, Mrs. Wilson," I assured the worried mother hovering nearby. "Keep it clean for a week, and he'll be back to chasing squirrels in no time." The young she-wolf nodded, relief flooding her features. "Thank you, Dr. Robinson. We were so worried when he limped home from playgroup." As I scratched behind the pup's ears, my mother burst through the clinic door, her silver-streaked hair catching the afternoon light. Elena Robinson had the same graceful strength that had made her both a respected warrior and healer in our pack. "The lilies arrived," she announced, holding up a bouquet of white blooms. "The florist wants to know if we're still doing the traditional circular arrangement for the ceremony." I nodded, forcing enthusiasm into my voice.
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Chapter 2

I couldn't breathe. The clinic walls seemed to close in around me as I stared at the phone, at the evidence of Rhett's betrayal playing on repeat. My hands trembled as I saved the video to my private cloud account.

"I need to go," I told my assistant, grabbing my keys. "Emergency. Cancel my afternoon appointments."

The drive home passed in a blur. Our apartment—the one we'd decorated together for our future—felt like a museum of lies. Every photo, every shared memory now tainted by the scent of another woman.

My wolf paced restlessly inside me, her growls vibrating through my chest. "We should hunt her down," she snarled. "Make her submit."

"No," I whispered, forcing myself to think clearly. "We need evidence."

I opened my laptop and typed "SkyHighTorres" into the search bar. Skyla's social media profiles populated the screen—Instagram, Facebook, Twitter. A college student at Riverside University. Twenty-two years old. Member of the Crescent Moon Pack.

I clicked through her Instagram, my stomach knotting tighter with each swipe. There it was—a pattern of posts dating back months. A coffee cup placed next to another, captioned "Morning rituals with my favorite person." A shadow of a wolf in the forest, unmistakably bronze in color. Rhett's wolf form.

"Fated love is overrated," read one caption from three months ago. "Some bonds are chosen, not forced."

My fingers moved mechanically, screenshotting everything, downloading photos, saving captions. The initial shock crystallized into something colder, harder—a clinical need for documentation.

"Look at this," I murmured to my wolf as I printed page after page. "He's been planning this for months."

---

The next morning, I arrived at the clinic early, my face a careful mask of professionalism. The receptionist gave me a curious look—I'd never been the type to cancel appointments.

"Dr. Robinson," she said hesitantly, "are you okay? You look..."

"Fine," I cut her off, my voice sharper than intended. "Just busy."

The morning proceeded normally until the bell above the door chimed around lunchtime. A young woman with flowing dark hair stepped inside, carrying a small terrier mix.

"Dr. Robinson?" she asked sweetly. "I need a check-up for my baby."

The air in the room changed instantly. That cloying floral scent hit me like a slap—the same artificial fragrance from the video. Skyla Torres stood before me in the flesh, her green eyes glittering with malice barely concealed beneath a veneer of innocence.

My wolf surged forward, teeth bared. I forced her back, my hands steady as I took the dog's leash.

"Name?" I asked, my voice perfectly calm.

"Skyla," she replied, watching me closely. "Skyla Torres."

I nodded, pretending to check the dog's ears while studying her reflection in the metal equipment. "Healthy ears. Now let's see those teeth."

"Some mates just don't have that spark anymore," Skyla said suddenly, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "It's sad when bonds fade, isn't it?"

I straightened slowly, meeting her gaze directly. "That's an interesting observation for someone who's not mated."

Her smile faltered for just a moment.

"Sit," I commanded, not to Skyla but to her dog, who immediately obeyed. My Alpha tone filled the room—not enough to challenge openly, but enough to assert dominance.

Skyla's eyes widened slightly. "Impressive control," she murmured. "But Rhett prefers wilder wolves. More... passionate."

The confirmation hung between us like a blade.

---

I was cleaning exam room three when the front desk called to tell me Skyla was leaving. Through the window, I watched her saunter to her car, phone already in hand.

I stepped outside, needing air that didn't smell of her perfume.

"Well, if it isn't the frigid Future Beta's mate," Skyla called out loudly as I passed. "No wonder he seeks warmth elsewhere."

I kept walking, but she wasn't finished.

"You know it's true," she continued, her voice carrying across the parking lot. "A mate bond is just biology. Love is a choice."

Several pack members waiting with their pets turned to stare. A few humans looked confused, but wolves understood the implications immediately.

"Is that why you're here?" I asked quietly. "To make a scene?"

"Someone needs to," she replied with a smirk. "Everyone's so afraid of hurting the precious Moon Goddess's gift."

More heads turned. Whispers began.

"The Future Beta's mate was challenged by an outsider..."

"Did you hear what she said about the mate bond?"

"Is there trouble between Kenna and Rhett?"

I realized with sudden clarity what Skyla was doing—provoking me into a public fight that would make me look unstable just days before our ceremony.

My wolf growled low in my throat as I stepped closer to her. "You have no idea what you're playing with."

Skyla's smile widened as she backed toward her car. "Don't I?"

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