I Faked My Death After My Alpha Betrayed Me

I woke alone in the guest wing, my fingers instinctively clutching at my chest as the familiar ache pulsed beneath my skin. Five years. Five years since Mason had claimed me as his mate, yet the bond remained incomplete—a phantom limb I couldn't ignore but couldn't truly feel either.

The digital clock on the nightstand blinked 6:17 AM. The pack would be buzzing with activity today, preparing for our fifth anniversary celebration. I should have been at Mason's side, helping coordinate the festivities. Instead, I was... here. Alone. Again.

"Mila," I whispered to myself, "today will be different."

It had to be.

I threw back the covers and padded to the kitchen, determined to make Mason's favorite breakfast—blueberry pancakes with extra syrup, crispy bacon, and coffee with just a hint of cinnamon. Maybe if I could just spend a few minutes with him, remind him of what we used to be before...

Before Ruth.

Before he decided I wasn't enough.

I hummed softly as I mixed the batter, the sound echoing in the empty kitchen. The guest wing felt more like home than the Alpha's quarters ever had. At least here, I didn't have to pretend.

"Alpha Mason already ate," a voice said from behind me.

I turned to find Tessa, one of the lower-ranked Omegas, standing in the doorway. Her eyes couldn't quite meet mine as she added, "Ruth ordered breakfast for him an hour ago."

The spoon slipped from my fingers, clattering against the bowl. "Oh. Thank you for letting me know."

Tessa nodded, her discomfort evident. Everyone knew. Everyone knew I was being erased from my own home.

"The pancakes look good," she offered hesitantly.

"They're his favorite," I replied, forcing a smile. "Would you like some?"

She shook her head quickly. "I should go. Lots to do before tonight."

After she left, I stared at the batter, at the bacon already sizzling in the pan. What was I doing? Why was I still trying?

---

The pack offices were bustling with activity when I arrived with the quarterly reports Mason had requested. Well, he hadn't exactly requested them from me—he'd asked Derek to handle it. But Derek had been swamped with security preparations for tonight's cruise party, so I'd offered to help.

I approached Mason's office, hearing laughter from within. Female laughter.

"Alpha Mason?" I called softly, knocking lightly on the door.

The laughter stopped abruptly. I pushed the door open just a crack, peering inside.

Ruth was perched on the edge of Mason's desk, her blouse unbuttoned one button too many, her hand resting casually on his shoulder. My mate's eyes were fixed on her neck as she tilted her head, exposing the sensitive skin there.

"Mason?" I said again, louder this time.

They both looked up, startled. Ruth's eyes narrowed when she saw me, but she didn't move away from Mason.

"Mila," Mason acknowledged, his tone neutral. "What is it?"

"I have the quarterly reports you needed," I said, stepping inside fully now.

Ruth's hand slid possessively around Mason's neck. "We were just discussing tonight's ceremony," she purred.

Something in me snapped. "Excuse me," I said, backing out of the room. "I'll just leave these on your desk."

As I turned to go, I heard Ruth's voice drop to a whisper. "After the Anniversary ceremony tonight, I'll finally be able to stop hiding."

"About time," Mason replied, his voice low but clear to my enhanced hearing. "After the ceremony, I will make the rejection official so we can finally be together publicly."

The papers slipped from my fingers, scattering across the floor.

---

The pack library was silent except for the occasional rustle of pages as I pretended to read. My mind kept replaying Mason's words: "After the ceremony, I will make the rejection official."

Official. As if our bond had ever been anything but a secret shame to him.

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of five years of patience pressing down on me. Five years of hoping he would change his mind. Five years of believing that somehow, someday, he would see me—really see me.

But he never had.

And tonight, on the stage before the entire pack, he would humiliate me completely.

"I won't give him that satisfaction," I whispered to myself.

I reached for my phone and pulled up a contact I'd saved months ago but never used—Elena Cross, an elderly healer known for dealing with "delicate" matters. Her services didn't come cheap, but I'd been saving for this moment without even realizing it.

My fingers trembled as I typed: "I need the mixture we discussed. Tonight."

Her response came almost immediately: "Are you certain, child?"

I looked around the library, at the pack history books detailing glorious mate bonds and happy Lunas. There was no place for me in those stories.

"Yes," I replied. "I'm certain."

The phone buzzed again: "Meet me at sunset. The old oak by the eastern border."

I closed my eyes, feeling something shift inside me—not breaking, but hardening. The Mila who had entered this library would not be the same one who left.

Tonight, everything would change.