Sold for a Fake: The Alpha's Lost True Mate

On our fifth anniversary, my husband, Alpha Ethan, didn't give me a gift.

Instead, he watched as his "invalid" mistress, Ilene, poured a tureen of boiling soup laced with Wolfsbane directly onto my chest.

As the poison ate through my skin and I screamed in agony, Ilene clutched her heart and faked a panic attack, claiming my noise was hurting her.

Ethan didn't call a doctor for me.

His eyes glowed amber with power, and he turned his Alpha Command on his dying mate.

"Stay down!"

He forced me to lie paralyzed in my own melting flesh, unable to move or whimper, just so my screams wouldn't disturb the woman who had poisoned me.

He scooped her up and walked away, leaving me on the restaurant floor.

That night, the bond in my chest finally snapped.

I didn't argue. I didn't fight. I simply burned every photo of us, masked my scent, and vanished into the night.

It took Ethan two years to discover the truth.

Ilene wasn't a fragile victim. She had been taking suppressants for years, hiding a healthy wolf while draining his bank accounts and laughing at his guilt.

He slaughtered her in a rage and spent his fortune searching the globe for me, desperate to beg for forgiveness.

But he was too late.

He finally found me on the cover of an international art magazine.

I wasn't the weak, wolf-less Omega anymore.

I stood tall, glowing with the power of the legendary White Wolf.

And the man standing next to me, with his hand possessively claiming my waist, wasn't him.

It was the Lycan King.

Chapter 1

Aurora POV:

"Happy Anniversary, Aurora."

The document slid across the mahogany desk, stopping just inches from my trembling fingers. The bold, black letters at the top seemed to scream at me: Mate Bond Dissolution Agreement.

Thirty-eight. That was the count. Thirty-eight times he’d shoved this paper in my face.

I looked up at the man sitting across from me. Ethan Bruce, Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack. He was breathtaking, in the way a thunderstorm is breathtaking right before it levels your house. His dark hair was a mess, his jawline sharp enough to cut glass, and his eyes... those deep, forest-green eyes that used to look at me with curiosity were now filled with a mixture of exhaustion and impatience.

My wolf didn't even whimper this time. She just curled into a ball in the back of my mind, too tired to care.

"Is this my gift?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Divorce papers?"

"It is not a divorce, Aurora. It is a mercy," Ethan said, his voice deep, vibrating with that Alpha authority that made weaker wolves want to bare their necks. "Ilene is unstable. She threatened to jump off the balcony again this morning. She needs security. She needs the title of Luna."

"And I need nothing?" I gripped the edge of the table. "I am your fated mate, Ethan. The Moon Goddess gave me to you."

Ethan flinched. For a second, I smelled it—the sharp, intoxicating scent of cedar and rain that was his natural aroma. It spiked with guilt. But then, he crushed it down.

"The Moon Goddess made a mistake," he said coldly. "Ilene took a silver bullet for me five years ago. She lost her ability to carry pups because of that rogue attack. She lost her wolf’s connection. I owe her everything."

"You owe her your life, not your soul," I countered, though the fight was draining out of me.

The lawyer in the corner, a beta named Marcus, looked down at his shoes. Even he felt the cruelty of this ritual. In our world, the bond between fated mates is sacred. To reject it is to tear a piece of your own soul away. But Ethan hadn't rejected me yet. He was too cowardly to say the ritual words. He wanted me to sign it away legally first.

I picked up the pen. My hand shook so violently that the ink blotted on the paper.

Suddenly, the heavy oak doors of the office burst open.

A wave of cloying, synthetic rose perfume hit me before she even spoke. It smelled like a funeral home trying too hard.

"Ethan!" Ilene rushed in, her face perfectly pale, her eyes wide with practiced terror. She threw herself into his lap, ignoring me completely. "I heard voices! I thought... I thought the rogues were back!"

Ethan’s demeanor changed instantly. The cold Alpha vanished, replaced by a doting protector. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck.

It’s okay, Ilene. You are safe. I am here.

I heard his voice in my head. He had forgotten to block our Mind-Link. The connection between mates allows us to hear each other's thoughts, a private channel of intimacy. Hearing him comfort her through our sacred link felt like a physical slap.

"I... I can't breathe," Ilene gasped, looking at me with a smirk that Ethan couldn't see. "Why is she still here? Her scent... it makes me nauseous."

I was an Omega. My scent was faint, like wild roses and old paper. It was gentle. It couldn't make anyone sick.

"We are going to dinner," Ethan said, standing up and lifting Ilene as if she were made of glass. He looked at me, his eyes hard again. "Come with us, Aurora. We need to maintain the image of a united pack for the public until the papers are processed."

"I don't want to—"

"That wasn't a request."

The restaurant was the finest in the city, owned by the pack, which meant the staff was paid to ignore my humiliation. I sat opposite them, clutching my sketchbook against my chest like a shield. Inside were charcoal drawings of wolves—not just how they looked, but how their souls felt. It was my only talent, the only thing that made me feel like I wasn't just a waste of space.

"Oh, look," Ilene said loudly, reaching across the table. Her hand 'accidentally' swiped my sketchbook.

It fell to the floor, spilling open. A drawing of a majestic white wolf—one I had seen in my dreams—slid out.

"Still drawing cartoons?" Ilene laughed, a brittle sound. "You really are a child, Aurora. No wonder you can't shift properly. You live in a fantasy because you're too weak for reality."

Ethan didn't defend me. He was busy cutting Ilene's steak for her.

A waiter arrived with a steaming tureen of soup. It was a special delicacy, rich and spicy.

"Here, let me serve you, Aurora," Ilene said, her eyes glinting. She stood up, grabbing the heavy ladle.

"I can do it myself," I said, sensing danger.

"Nonsense. I'm trying to be nice."

She moved too fast. Or maybe I was just too slow. The ladle tilted.

"Oops!"

The boiling soup didn't just spill; it splashed directly onto my chest and neck.

I screamed.

It wasn't just heat. It was a searing, chemical burn that ate into my flesh instantly. The smell of burning skin mixed with something acrid—Wolfsbane.

"It burns!" I clawed at my neck, falling out of my chair. Wolfsbane is deadly to us. It stops our natural healing. "Help me!"

Ethan shot up, his eyes widening in horror as he saw my skin blistering red and purple. He reached for me. "Aurora!"

"Ethan!" Ilene shrieked, falling back into her chair and clutching her chest. "The noise! She's screaming so loud! My heart!"

Ethan froze. He looked at me, writhing on the floor in agony, and then at Ilene, who was hyperventilating.

My vision blurred. "Ethan... please..."

He made his choice. He always made the same choice.

He turned to Ilene, but I was thrashing too much, drawing the attention of the humans in the restaurant. He needed to silence me to protect the pack's secret existence.

He looked down at me, his eyes glowing with the amber light of his wolf.

"Aurora," he boomed, his voice layered with a power that slammed into me like a physical weight. "Stay down!"

It was the Alpha's Command.

My body betrayed me. My muscles locked up instantly, obeying the absolute order of the pack leader. I slammed onto the floor, unable to move, unable to soothe the burning acid eating at my throat. I could only whimper, tears streaming from my eyes, forced into submission while my skin melted.

"I'm taking Ilene to the car," Ethan said to his Beta, not looking at me. "Call an ambulance for... for her."

He scooped up the woman who had just poisoned me and walked away.

Lying there, paralyzed by the man I loved, listening to his footsteps fade, I realized something.

The soup burned my skin, but his command had incinerated my heart.