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The Betrayed Wolf’s Vow Novel Cover

The Betrayed Wolf’s Vow

On their third anniversary, Leah discovers Chisel’s betrayal, witnessing a moment of intimacy between him and Sylvia. Though he dismisses the act as a mere game, the pain of his infidelity and the memory of their lost pup drive Leah to sever their mate bond. Rejecting his desperate pleas for forgiveness and promises of change, she chooses to abandon their shared home. Leah sets out for a new beginning, finally closing the door on Chisel’s excuses and his late-night calls.
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Chapter 6

My body froze at his words. That pup… it would always remain a thorn lodged deep within my heart.

“We’ll talk about it later,” I said quietly, turning my gaze on him. My voice was calm, but it carried the edge of finality. “Chisel, I told you—there was only one last chance.”

“What?” His brows furrowed, as though my words were in a language he didn’t understand. “Leah, what last chance? That was just a joke. You weren’t supposed to take it seriously, and I won’t either. Once Sylvia’s foot heals, I’ll come back. I’ll be with you… and our pup.”

For a fleeting second, guilt flickered in his eyes. But it died as quickly as it came.

The next moment, he was gone again—arm draped around Sylvia, not even sparing me a glance as they walked away.

Watching their backs vanish, I swore silently to myself: Chisel, from this day forward, you will never have another chance to hurt me.

On the fourth day in the hospital, when my strength had mostly returned, I drew in a deep breath and pressed the call button on my phone. “Mom.”

For once, I wanted to live for myself. Not for duty, not for appearances—just for me.

I was done begging for scraps of affection.

“What now? Your father and I are at the beach! Don’t call us unless it’s important.”

“I’m ending the bond with Chisel.”

Silence on the other end. Then fury.

“What did you just say? Are you insane?”

I inhaled, steadying my voice.

“Mom, I’m not asking for your opinion. I’m informing you. I’m done.”

The line went dead quiet, heavy with disappointment. Finally, her voice came back, clipped and cold: “Wait until Kane makes the deal. Then we’ll discuss it.”

“You only have two weeks.” I hung up before she could say more.

At that moment, the Pack Doctor came in with her assistants, smiling gently.

“Mrs. Leah, let’s check you over. See if you’re ready to be discharged today.”

They fussed with the equipment, murmuring to each other in hushed voices:

“Did you hear? That noble-born lady Sylvia was treated here. Snake bite, they said.”

“Pfft, I saw the wound. Barely a scratch. Didn’t need hospitalization at all. She just got discharged this morning.”

“Who was that handsome man with her, though? The one who stayed in her room day and night? Is he her mate?”

“Don’t know, but spirits above, the way he doted on her… I wish I had a mate like that.”

Their words pierced straight into me.

Once, they would have crushed me with jealousy. After all, I was the true Luna, his mate.

But now… now it only felt empty.

Because in two weeks, all of it would be over.

“Mrs. Leah, you’ve recovered well. You can go home today,” the Pack Doctor said warmly, then tilted her head in curiosity. “No one coming to pick you up? No family visiting these days either. You’ve handled everything on your own—it can’t be easy.”

“No one,” I said with a hollow laugh.

“Life really isn’t fair,” she muttered with a sigh, before leaving me to pack my things.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and left the hospital.

But when I pushed open the door to the house, I froze.

Chisel was there.

Wearing an apron.

Standing in the kitchen with steam rising around him, the faint scent of porridge filling the air.

Three years of bond—and I had never seen him cook before.

For the briefest of moments, hope dared to bloom inside me.

Had he finally… come to his senses?

But when he turned and saw me, there was no joy in his eyes.

Only reproach.

“Where have you been? You’re four, five months pregnant, Leah! Why are you wandering around? Shouldn’t you be resting like a good Luna?”

The backpack slipped from my hand, thudding to the floor. That fragile spark of hope extinguished instantly, drowned by his words.

Ruby’s voice, weak from the damage of our miscarriage, rasped in my head:

“He hasn’t even restored the mate bond. He still thinks you’re carrying the pup.”

I stared at his busy figure, the apron tied neatly around his waist.

How ironic.

That porridge probably wasn’t for me at all. It was for Sylvia—newly discharged, in need of nourishment.

And me?

I was nothing but an afterthought.

So be it.

After all, there were only two weeks left between us.

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