The Alpha Chose My Sister, So I Chose Revenge

Chapter 6

Marcus's eyes blazed with Alpha fury as he stared down at Celeste. The air in the room grew thick with his dominance, pressing against her like invisible chains.

"You think you can threaten me in my own house?" His voice was deadly calm. "You poisoned Raven. You attacked her. And now you dare to show disrespect to your Alpha?"

Celeste's wolf whimpered under the crushing weight of his aura, but she forced herself to stand straight. Her healing wounds screamed in protest, but she wouldn't bow. Not anymore.

"I didn't do anything wrong and I'm not apologizing." she said through gritted teeth.

Marcus's patience snapped. He turned to the pack guards who had appeared at his call. "Don't hold back," he said. "Give her the punishment she deserves."

The guards hesitated. They had known Celeste for years. She had healed their children, managed their finances, been nothing but kind to their families.

"Alpha," one of them said carefully, "perhaps we should wait for the pack elders to—"

"Now!" Marcus roared.

They dragged her to the courtyard behind the house. The silver whip gleamed in the sunlight and ready to strike. Celeste's hands were bound to an iron post with her back exposed.

"Admit your mistake," the guard said before the first lash fell.

The silver burned through her dress and into her skin. Pain spread across her back as her wolf howled in agony. Silver wounds couldn't heal properly—they would scar forever.

"I did nothing wrong," she whispered.

The second lash fell. Then the third.

With each strike, they asked the same question.

And each time, her answer remained the same.

By the thirtieth, she could barely feel her legs. The silver poisoning was spreading through her system, making her wolf whimper in pain.

Through the haze of pain, she heard Raven's voice from the house. "Marcus, don't you think this is enough? I feel terrible that she's being punished because of me."

The thirty-third lash sent lightning through her spine. Celeste's vision went black, and she collapsed against the post, unconscious.

When she woke three days later, her body was on fire. Not from the lashes—though those still burned—but from the fever that had taken hold. Her wolf was too weak to fight the silver poisoning.

The pack doctor had done what he could, but silver wounds required time and rest to heal.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Damien's name flashed on the screen.

"I'm three hours away," his voice was rough with concern. "Pack light. We leave tonight."

Celeste forced herself to sit up, ignoring the way her back screamed in protest. She needed to pack, but as she looked around the basement room, she realized she had almost nothing left that mattered.

Just her ID. Everything else in this house belonged to Marcus or held memories she wanted to forget.

Her phone rang again. This time It was Sarah, her former assistant at Marcus's company.

"Luna Celeste," Sarah's voice was frantic. "Please tell me you're coming back. Everything's falling apart here. Ms. Raven tried to handle the Morrison account, and she accidentally sent our competitor's proposal to them instead of ours. We lost a two-million-dollar deal!"

Celeste almost laughed—if her throat hadn't hurt too much. The Morrison account was her baby. She'd spent months nurturing that relationship.

"And that's not even the worst part," Sarah continued. "She somehow deleted the entire client database. Five years of contacts, gone. Alpha Marcus is furious, but he's blaming everyone except her."

Another call came through—it was Michael, one of the board members.

"Celeste, thank God you picked up. We need you back immediately. Raven's incompetence is going to bankrupt us. She gave our trade secrets to a reporter, thinking it was a potential investor!"

The desperation in his voice was almost amusing. These same board members had stood silent when Marcus humiliated her in meetings, letting him take credit for her work.

"Our company stock has dropped thirty percent in three days," Michael pleaded. "Only you know how to fix this. Please—"

Celeste cut him off mid-sentence. "I don't work for the company anymore. Handle your own problems."

She hung up and immediately blocked the number.

For four years, she had been Marcus's shield. When investors were angry, she took their calls. When deals went wrong, she fixed them quietly. When the pack finances were struggling, she used her own connections to save them.

She had never told Marcus about any of it. She hadn't wanted him to feel obligated to her.

What a fool she had been.

Celeste dragged herself to the study upstairs, her movements slow and painful. From her bag, she pulled out a small flash drive and connected it to Marcus's computer.

She copied everything—the security footage of Raven drugging the tea she later claimed Celeste had poisoned. The financial records showing how much money Celeste had quietly funneled into the pack from her accounts. The medical reports from her miscarriage that Marcus had never bothered to read.

And one more thing. A recording from Raven's phone that Celeste had found while cleaning the Luna suite. Raven's confession to a friend about her European lover, about how she had planned to return and reclaim Marcus, about how easy it was to manipulate him.

She saved it all to the drive and placed it in the safe alongside the rejection papers.

Her phone buzzed with message after message from Marcus.

*Celeste, the shareholders are panicking. Where are you? Raven made some mistakes, but she's learning. I need you to smooth things over.*

*Stop being dramatic and get back to work. This is bigger than your feelings.*

*Damn it, Celeste, answer me! If you don't handle the Morrison situation, I'll dock your salary for the entire month.*

The messages grew more desperate as the minutes passed.

*Fine. I'm sorry about the whipping. I was angry and went too far. But you can't just disappear when the pack needs you.*

*Raven feels terrible about everything. She wants to apologize. Can't we all just move past this?*

Celeste blocked his number and deleted every trace of him from her phone.

A car horn honked outside. Through the window, she saw a sleek black car waiting in the driveway. Damien.

She had erased herself from this house as completely as Marcus had erased her from his heart.

Outside, beside a limited-edition Bentley Mulliner Bacalar, a guy stood in a perfectly tailored suit.

Damien held a faux but everlasting white tulip bouquet, the sunlight outlining his figure.

He met her eyes.

“Celeste ,” he muttered, “I’ve come to take you home.”