Cheated, Betrayed, and Left to Fight Alone by My Alpha

Mireya’s POV

Running had never been simple.

Not after everything I lost.

After my family—my clan—was wiped out, there was nowhere left to belong. The Ashbourne name had once carried weight across the territories, spoken with a mix of respect and fear because of the rare gift that ran through our bloodline. But all of that vanished the night we were branded traitors. Accused of betrayal. Condemned without mercy.

The wolves came for us.

My parents didn’t survive the purge. They were called murderers. Insurgents. Liars who deserved death. I can still see it—the moonlight catching the red as their blood soaked into the soil. I remember my wolf screaming at me to turn, to fight, to die with honor. But my human instincts overpowered her, forcing my legs to move, dragging me away while my heart shattered behind me.

I fled through trees and mist until my chest felt like it would split open. My brother found me just before dawn. We held each other, shaking, whispering promises we both knew we couldn’t keep. He sent me away to hide, disappearing into another city so the hunters wouldn’t trace us together.

That was the last time I saw him.

Until not long ago.

After that, I was alone. Branded prey. A wolf without a pack, constantly looking over my shoulder, always waiting for teeth in the dark.

Then I met him.

Alpha Darius Stormfell of the Deathwell Pack.

He found me at the edge of his territory, half-starved and bleeding. His presence was overwhelming—commanding, dangerous. When his eyes met mine under the moon, I was certain that was the end. I thought he would hand me over, earn favor by spilling the blood of a Ashbourne.

Instead, something snapped between us.

The bond. Sudden. Violent. Unavoidable.

He sheltered me. Claimed me. Took me as his mate, then his wife. For five years, I lived believing I was no longer cursed or unwanted. I wasn’t a fugitive anymore—I was Luna of Deathwell Pack. His partner. His other half.

Or at least… that’s what I had convinced myself.

Now I sat across from him, my hands shaking, my wolf curled in pain as a witch prepared to begin her spell.

The Alpha’s office no longer felt like home. The walls that once echoed with laughter now felt like stone closing in on me. Darius sat behind his desk, rigid and distant, his expression carved from ice. At his side sat Marcella Thompson, perfectly composed, lips soft, eyes gleaming with quiet triumph. She wore the dress Darius had gifted me on our anniversary—the one meant to symbolize devotion, not replacement.

And me?

I was barely holding together.

My body was still weak from the miscarriage that had torn something vital out of me days earlier. The healers had pleaded with him to let me recover, to allow my strength to return. He refused. He ordered me here.

Now I understood why.

The witch spoke, her tone detached and formal. “Once the bond is broken, she will no longer hold the title of Luna. She will be expelled from Deathwell Pack.”

Expelled.

As if five years of love and loyalty could be erased with a single word.

Darius didn’t react. No hesitation. No regret.

I forced myself to look at him. “After everything we shared… you’re really choosing this?”

His gaze finally shifted toward me, sharp and impersonal. “This is the only logical outcome,” he said. “You’ve proven you can’t give me what I need. Marcella can.”

Not worthy.

That was what I heard beneath his words.

My wolf growled in fury, but my heart cracked wide open. Was this because my family’s gift never awakened in me? Because I failed to become the powerful Luna he wanted? Or because my body couldn’t protect our unborn child?

Marcella’s arrival months ago had planted doubt in me, and now that doubt bloomed into devastation.

The witch glanced my way. “If you fight the spell, Alpha Darius has authorized the loss of everything you possess—including any offspring.”

I swallowed hard. “The child is already gone,” I said softly. My voice shattered on the last word.

For a split second, the witch faltered.

Darius didn’t. He shifted slightly, his jaw tightening, his eyes sliding away as if my pain were an inconvenience. He didn’t speak. He didn’t comfort me.

Something inside me broke completely.

A bitter laugh slipped from my lips, empty and raw. “Go ahead,” I told the witch. “Finish it.”

The chanting began.

The air grew heavy, thick with magic. My heart seized as the spell wrapped around me, tightening like a noose. And then it tore.

The pain was indescribable. White-hot. Savage. The bond ripped through my soul, dragging memories with it—his laughter, his touch, the nights we lay beneath the stars whispering promises. Every moment burned as it was stripped away.

I screamed, clutching my chest, nails digging into my skin until blood welled. I thought my heart would stop. Part of me hoped it would.

Then everything went black.

When I came to, I was alone on the cold floor. The room was empty. They had left me there without a backward glance.

I staggered back to the packhouse, every step agony. Our bedroom still smelled like him. Our combined scent lingered cruelly in the air. The candles I once lit each night were half-melted, forgotten.

Boxes sat against the wall with my name written across them.

A single note lay on the bed.

Mireya,

You’ll need to relocate immediately. Marcella is uneasy with your presence. All property and finances remain under my ownership. You are entitled to nothing.

—Darius

My hands shook violently.

Five years. Gone.

I slid to the floor, my wolf crying inside me, hollow and lost. I had no family. No mate. No future.

Then I noticed the vial on the table.

Wolfsbane.

A weapon meant for enemies of the pack. Enemies like me.

I picked it up, the glass cold against my skin. My wolf whimpered, torn between survival and surrender. The promise of quiet—of rest—felt tempting.

I sat on the bed, uncorking it with trembling fingers.

Suddenly, warmth surrounded my hand.

I gasped.

“Mireya.”

I looked up.

It was Darius—but not the man who had condemned me earlier. This Darius looked younger somehow. Softer. His eyes burned with concern, his touch familiar and gentle, like the Alpha who had saved me years ago.

“What are you doing?” he asked urgently, pulling the vial from my grasp.

“You destroyed us,” I whispered through sobs. “You erased me.”

His face creased with confusion. “I would never—”

“Then tell me,” I begged. “Why am I no longer your Luna?”

But before he could answer, the image blurred.

The Darius I loved—the one who promised forever—faded into nothing, leaving me alone once more.