After My Alpha Tortured Me, I Learned the Truth About His Lies

The scent of blood and antiseptic filled my nostrils as I dragged Oliver's unconscious body across the threshold of Blood Moon Pack territory. My muscles screamed in protest, but I couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop. Not when his life hung by a thread.

"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking as I spotted the packhouse in the distance. "Just hold on a little longer."

Oliver's breathing grew more labored with each step. The rogue attack had left him barely clinging to life—three deep gashes across his chest, a punctured lung, and a broken leg. He'd saved me from those rogues, and now I'd do anything to save him.

The pack healer. That was my only hope.

I shifted Oliver's weight, adjusting my grip as I approached the medical building. The scent of medicinal herbs grew stronger, mingling with the metallic tang of blood.

"Help!" I called out, my voice echoing through the empty hallway. "Please, I need the healer!"

A tall figure appeared in the doorway, his silver-streaked hair pulled back neatly, his expression guarded. "Who are you? And why are you bringing an outsider into our territory?"

"Please," I begged, lowering Oliver to the floor. "He's dying. I'll do anything."

The man—Marcus Stone, I realized, the pack healer—knelt beside Oliver, his hands moving expertly over the wounds. His eyes widened slightly. "These are deep. He needs immediate attention."

"Then help him!" I pleaded.

Before Marcus could respond, a commanding presence filled the room. The air seemed to thicken, pressing against my skin with an almost physical weight.

"I don't recall inviting outsiders into my territory."

I turned slowly, my heart stuttering in my chest as I came face to face with him. Jacob. The boy I'd once loved, now a man—and an Alpha. His dark eyes narrowed as they met mine, recognition flickering across his features before hardening into something cold and hateful.

"Jacob," I whispered, his name falling from my lips like a prayer.

His nostrils flared slightly, and I knew he was catching my scent. The mate bond—that invisible thread that had always connected us—pulled taut between us.

"You're my mate," he stated flatly, no emotion in his voice. "How... convenient."

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "I need your help. Please. Oliver saved my life, and now he needs yours."

Jacob circled me slowly, his Alpha aura pressing down on me like a physical weight. "And what could I possibly gain from helping you?"

"Anything," I whispered, desperation clawing at my throat. "I'll do anything."

His lips curved into a smile that never reached his eyes. "Anything?"

I nodded, my heart sinking as understanding dawned. "Yes."

"Then submit to me," Jacob said, his voice dropping lower. "Accept my mark, my claim. Become mine."

The implications hung heavy in the air between us. This wasn't about love or fate or the Moon Goddess's blessing. This was about revenge.

"Jacob, please," I tried once more, tears stinging my eyes.

"Those are my terms," he cut me off. "Take them or leave. Your... friend doesn't have much time."

I looked down at Oliver's pale face, then back at Jacob's cold eyes. What choice did I have?

"I accept," I whispered.

Jacob's eyes flashed with triumph as he leaned down, his breath hot against my neck. "Then let's get this over with."

The marking was nothing like I'd imagined it would be. There was no tenderness, no gentle caress—just the sharp pain of teeth breaking skin as Jacob bit into the sensitive juncture between my neck and shoulder.

I gasped, tears streaming down my face as the mate bond flared to life between us—not a warm embrace but a cold, unyielding chain.

"It's done," Jacob said, wiping a drop of my blood from his lip. "You belong to me now."

He turned to Marcus. "Save him."

The healer nodded, already working to stabilize Oliver as Jacob gripped my arm, dragging me from the room.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, stumbling after him.

"To your new home," he replied coldly.

The packhouse loomed before us, imposing and grand. But instead of being led to the Luna's quarters, Jacob pushed me into the great hall where dozens of pack members had gathered.

"Attention," he called out, his Alpha voice silencing the room. "I have marked my mate."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd as all eyes turned to me.

"But," Jacob continued, his grip tightening painfully on my arm, "she will not be joining us as Luna."

Gasps echoed through the hall as Jacob turned to face me, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Jovie Weaver," he announced formally, "I hereby strip you of all rank within this pack. You will serve as an Omega slave, attending to the needs of myself and my foster sister, Ivory."

A slender blonde stepped forward, her lips curving into a triumphant smirk as she took her place at Jacob's side.

"Welcome to your new life," Ivory whispered, loud enough for only me to hear. "It's going to be hell."

I stood frozen, the mate bond pulsing painfully in my chest as Jacob's words sank in. Not Luna. Not even a regular pack member.

An Omega slave.

The lowest of the low.

And from the look in Jacob's eyes, this was only the beginning of his revenge.