After My Alpha Sacrificed Our Daughter's Heart I Vowed Revenge

I stared at the computer screen, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I edited Marcus's anniversary post. Five years together. Five years of what I thought was perfect love, sealed by the Moon Goddess herself. The study was quiet except for the soft ticking of the antique clock that had belonged to Marcus's father—a wedding gift that symbolized the continuation of the Silvermoon Pack's leadership.

"To my beloved mate, my heart's true home..." I read the words aloud, feeling a hollowness where warmth should be. It had been six months since we lost Emma. Six months of trying to breathe through the pain, of Marcus being my rock, my Alpha, my everything.

I clicked to schedule the post, then absently scrolled through the pack's social media feed. Marcus was meticulous about maintaining our public image—the perfect Alpha pair leading the Silvermoon Pack with strength and grace. My finger froze mid-scroll when a familiar phrase caught my eye.

"To my beloved Rachel, my heart's true home..."

The same words. Exactly the same. Not just similar—identical, down to the last comma. I blinked, certain I was seeing things. But there it was, posted just yesterday on Rachel Morrison's profile. Rachel, the she-wolf from Crescent Moon Pack who Marcus claimed was just an ally in territorial negotiations.

My wolf, Aria, stirred within me, a low growl rumbling in our shared consciousness. *Look closer, Natalie.*

I clicked through to Rachel's profile. Photo after photo showed her smiling, beautiful, her dark hair and amber eyes striking against the backdrop of mountains. And there, scattered throughout her timeline, were Marcus's words—our words—repeated verbatim in post after post.

"It can't be," I whispered, but Aria knew better. She always had.

*He's been lying to us.*

I closed the browser quickly when I heard footsteps approaching, my heart hammering against my ribs. By the time Marcus poked his head into the study, I was calmly organizing the folders on his desk.

"Just finishing up your schedule for next week," I said, amazed at how steady my voice sounded when everything inside me was crumbling.

He smiled—that smile that once made my knees weak—and crossed the room to kiss my forehead. "What would I do without my Luna?"

*You seem to manage just fine with another,* Aria snarled, but I kept her rage contained behind my practiced smile.

After he left, I continued organizing his Alpha duties folder, my hands trembling slightly. That's when I found it—tucked between trade agreements and border patrol schedules—a cream-colored note from the pack's training academy.

"Alpha Sterling and Ms. Morrison, we look forward to discussing Leo's progress at next week's parent-teacher conference."

Leo Morrison. Parent-teacher conference. My fingers went numb.

"She has no children," Marcus had told me just last month when I'd asked about the Crescent Moon delegation. "Rachel is unmated and focused on her role as pack diplomat."

The room seemed to tilt as pieces began falling into place. I clutched the edge of the desk, breathing deeply to keep from shifting in distress. Aria paced restlessly within me, her rage building.

*He betrayed us. He betrayed our bond.*

That night, I lay beside Marcus in our bed, listening to his breathing deepen as he fell asleep. The mate bond between us, once a warm, comforting presence, now felt like a chain around my neck. I watched the digital clock tick past midnight, then one, then two.

At 2:17, Marcus stirred. I kept my breathing deep and even, feigning sleep as he carefully slid from our bed. Through barely-open eyes, I watched him dress silently in the darkness, then slip from our room.

I counted to one hundred before following, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floors of the pack house. Aria guided me, her senses sharper than my human ones as we tracked him through the sleeping building and out into the woods.

The moon was high and bright, illuminating the forest path as I kept a careful distance. Marcus moved with purpose, checking his phone periodically as he walked. Finally, he stopped in a small clearing and made a call.

"I'll be there by morning," his voice carried clearly in the night air. "Tell him Daddy misses him."

My heart splintered as I pressed myself against a tree trunk, willing myself to remain hidden.

"I love you," Marcus whispered into the phone, his voice tender in a way I hadn't heard since Emma died. "I'll see you both tomorrow."

As he ended the call, a single tear slid down my cheek. The mate I had trusted with my heart, my life, my very soul, had built another life entirely separate from ours. And somewhere out there was a child—Leo—who called my mate "Daddy" while the memory of our own daughter faded a little more each day.

Aria's voice was cold steel in my mind: *We will destroy him for this.*

And in that moonlit forest, with the evidence of betrayal echoing in my ears, I silently agreed.