My husband sold me to another Alpha

Isabelle

The leather chair beneath me creaked faintly as I shifted, but my gaze never left Jason Monstera’s face. Not even as the weight of the moment pressed against my chest like a cinderblock.

He looked perfect. Immaculate, really… his ash-blond hair slicked back with precision, the Monstera crest on his silver cuff gleaming under the dim lights of the private office in Monstera Tower. The Alpha-to-be. The heir. The man I once called husband in a hidden ceremony under the twin moons.

My husband.

And yet I no longer recognized him.

He slid the phone across the glass table. “Watch this,” he said.

I hesitated. The cold glass stung my fingertips. I picked up the phone. Pressed play.

And then I stopped breathing.

My twin sister, Diane, was in the video. Her face battered, her wrists bound. Her screams… goddess above, her screams tore through the screen and into my soul.

A male voice, laughing and cruel, called her by vile names, mocked her tears, used her like she wasn’t even a she-wolf, like she wasn’t someone’s daughter, sister, or mate-to-be. No. She was an object to him. A tool to break.

A shadow of myself. Because we’re twins.

“You bastard,” I whispered, clutching the phone in shaking hands. “How did you get this?”

Jason folded his arms casually, like we were discussing politics. “He sent it to Samantha. She brought it to me. To help clean up the mess.”

My wolf roared within me. Mess? Diane’s trauma was a mess?

“What is this, Jason?” I demanded, voice trembling. “You, of all wolves, know what she went through. That’s Diane. My sister.”

He leaned back. “Yes. So let’s stop the gibberish. You have three minutes, Belle.” His voice was ice. “Give me the legal evidence. All of it. Or…” He gestured to the phone. “This spreads. She’ll be ruined. Or better… maybe I let the press think it’s you in the video. You and Diane are identical, after all.”

The air thinned. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

“You’d do that?” I choked out. “You’d destroy my career in the High Wolf Court? After everything I… after everything we’ve—”

Jason clicked his tongue. “Don’t be dramatic. You knew this path wouldn’t last forever. You’re an omega, Belle. A background-less one. The only reason they tolerate you up there is because you’re useful, for now.”

A credit card clinked against the table.

“Ten million,” he offered like it was candy. “Give it to Diane. Let her buy bags, cars, maybe even a moonstone pendant to forget the trauma. It’s more than she deserves, frankly.”

I stared at the card. The silver glint of Monstera Bank. My lips curled.

“And Samantha?” I said, barely holding my snarl. “Where does she fit in this chessboard you’re playing?”

Jason’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “She saved me once,” he said. “She matters.”

“You’re helping her rapist client.”

He didn’t flinch.

“She’s the legal counsel of the monster who did this to my sister.”

He smiled, but it was hollow. “That’s the game, Belle. Sometimes wolves get bitten.”

I recoiled. “You were my mate—”

“We were married, not mated,” he cut in sharply. “There’s a difference. You never smelled like fate.”

My wolf howled in agony.

“You promised,” I whispered. “You once told me you’d defy the Moon Goddess herself before ever turning against me.”

He shrugged. “I guess I changed.”

My hands curled into fists, claws threatening to break skin.

Flashbacks slammed into me like waves.

Jason as my driver during risky evidence hunts. Jason making me tea while I stayed up reviewing files. Jason on his knees, slipping a secret moonstone ring on my finger under the stars, swearing, “I don’t care what my family says. You’re my forever, Belle.”

A lie. All of it.

The first time I ever faced Samantha in the High Wolf Court, I wasn’t surprised to see her standing tall on the defense side. What surprised me was how proud she looked about it.

She was representing a rotting, decrepit Alpha accused of molesting a rogue child no older than seven. The kind of crime that should have silenced an entire courtroom in collective horror. But Samantha? She walked in like it was just another contract dispute, her chin high and her shoulders squared like she was about to save the damn world.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the court,” she began, her voice laced with that same smug self-righteousness I’d grown used to hearing in pack meetings, “let us remember that even an Alpha is innocent until proven guilty.”

I watched her, still and quiet at the prosecution table. My jaw locked. My wolf stirred uneasily beneath my skin.

Samantha always did love to dress words in righteousness, even when the soul of what she was defending was rotting from the inside out. She lacked real insight—everyone knew that. Her arguments were always emotionally manipulative rather than factual. But she sounded confident. Like her voice alone could bend the truth until it snapped.

“He is a respected elder. He has sons, daughters, grandpups even,” she continued, gesturing with exaggerated grace. “And we are to believe he would risk all that… for what? The word of a wild rogue pup with no pack and no guardians?”

A low growl rumbled in my throat, quiet enough that only my second could hear. She placed a warning hand on my arm.

Outside court, I didn’t approach her. But she found me anyway.

I was standing near the old willow tree by the courthouse steps, phone in hand, pretending to scroll through documents I already knew by heart.

“Isabelle,” Samantha called out, voice syrupy-sweet. “Must you always look at me like I’m the villain?”

I glanced up, not bothering to hide my disdain. “You defend monsters. What do you expect me to see?”

Her mouth curled into that faux-sad expression she always wore when she was about to twist the narrative. “You think you’re standing on the moral high ground, but you’re not the only one who feels pain, you know. That man—he has a family. He’s old. Fragile. Do you really need to see him rot behind silver bars just to feel like you’ve done something?”

My eyes narrowed. “A little girl was hurt. What about her family? Or do rogues not count in your version of justice?”

She clicked her tongue. “Don’t be so dramatic. She’s a product of two unmated wolves. That child’s existence was a mistake from the start.”

I went still. Too still. My wolf’s rage was a rising tide beneath my skin, pulsing and hot, threatening to break free. I forced my voice to stay level. “The Moon Goddess sees all, Samantha. Even the way you justify cruelty with logic.”

That moment replayed in my mind often. Especially when I thought about the warnings I used to give Jason.

“You don’t know what she’s like behind closed doors,” I told him once. “She’s dangerous. Manipulative.”

Jason had pulled me into his arms then, his warmth a shield against the world. His scent—a mix of pine and amber—used to soothe my wolf instantly.

“This kind of ungrateful thing…” he had growled, voice thick with protectiveness. “Baby, how about I take care of her for you? One order. That’s all I need.”

I’d stopped him. Back then, I truly believed love was enough. That he would always be on my side.

How foolish.

Because months later, Samantha slithered her way into the legal counsel for Monstera Pack’s businesses. I wasn’t chosen, despite my record, despite my loyalty, because I wasn’t “clean-blooded” enough. My background was always the thorn in their perfect image.

And Samantha? She was a safe, palatable choice. The kind they could parade in front of pack councils.

Six months after that, Jason hired her again, this time not just for the pack, but as his personal legal adviser.

I still remember how casual his explanation was.

“We’re short on people,” he shrugged, his eyes already back on his reports. “Besides… don’t you think her personality’s interesting?”

Interesting. That word twisted something deep inside me. A quiet, sharp snap that echoed longer than it should’ve.

Still, I didn’t make a scene. I didn’t question him. I thought, foolishly, that his love for me was untouchable. That no one, not even someone like Samantha, could get between us.

But love, it turns out, is not a fortress. It’s glass. And glass shatters.

Because now, he wasn’t just listening to her. He was acting for her.

“I should’ve known when you hired her,” I muttered, more to myself. “When you gave her my spot on the Monstera pack’s legal counsel. When you said you found her ‘interesting.’”

He didn’t deny it.

“You’re not the man I married.”

He leaned forward. “And you’re not the sweet little omega who knew when to step down.”

Tears burned my eyes. My voice cracked. “If I don’t give you the evidence… will you really do it? Will you really ruin Diane’s name… our name—for her?”

Jason’s lips curled. “You can try and see.”

I broke. There’s no other word for it. Something inside me shattered like fragile glass. The part of me that loved him. That trusted him. That once believed in justice.

My hands signed the agreement. My name scratched onto the paper like a death sentence.

I didn’t look at him again.

I walked out of Monstera Tower with numb feet, barely noticing the golden crest above the doors. It felt like the end of a war, but I had lost more than the battle.

And soon, I find out I lost something greater.

The moment my phone rang, my heart stopped.

“Belle, come to the hospital quickly! Your sister attempted suicide!”

I don’t remember how I got there. Maybe I ran. Maybe I shifted. Maybe the world spun so fast I broke time itself.

But I was there, inside the cold, indifferent emergency wing of Monstera Pack Hospital. My mother was on the floor. Knees bruised. Hair a mess. Forehead bleeding as she kowtowed before the unmoved doctors.

“Please! Please save her! Please!”

Diane lay limp in her arms. Her wrist still bleeding. Eyes closed. Lips pale.

“Her body’s still warm!” a junior healer cried. “We can save her!”

But none moved.

“Why aren’t you helping?!” I screamed, grabbing a doctor by his collar.

He didn’t blink. “Alpha Jason ordered us to stay put.”

“Why?”

He glanced down the hall. “Samantha’s dog is in critical condition.”

I nearly vomited. “You’re letting my sister die for a dog?!”

“If it dies,” he said coldly, “Miss Samantha will be upset. If she’s upset… we’re all in trouble.”

I ran after them. Screamed. Begged. Clawed the walls. No one turned.

When I returned… She was cold.

My mother’s wails echoed louder than thunder. Diane’s blood still dripped from her gown onto the sterile floor.

“No… no, no, no—” I dropped beside her. Took Diane’s hand. “I’m sorry… Diane, I’m sorry—”

I slapped myself. Again. And again.

“I killed her… I let him—I—”

“Stop.” My mother’s voice cut through. Her hands gripped mine.

She was steady now. Eyes sharp. Bloodied but upright.

“We take her,” she said. “We leave this cursed pack.”

I looked up, dazed.

“In five days, Isabelle. We emigrate. We take Diane’s ashes and never look back.”