My Paralyzed Alpha Faked His Injury for His Mistress

I waited in the grand hall for three hours on the night of Kael’s Alpha ceremony.

He was supposed to be wheeled onto the stage, paralyzed and dependent on me.

Instead, my phone buzzed with a live video feed from the pack hospital.

Through the shaky lens, I saw Kael—my mate of four years—standing perfectly on his own two feet.

He effortlessly pinned his secret lover, Selene, against the sterile door.

"Why haven't you told Elara your legs are cured?" Selene purred, tracing his chest.

"If that wolfless maid finds out, she'll pressure me to mark her," Kael scoffed, his voice dripping with disgust. "She's not fit to be an Alpha's mate."

Then, he claimed her lips with a ferocious growl, completely shifting into his massive wolf form to mount her.

My chest tightened, not with sorrow, but with cold clarity.

He didn't know I was the lost Lycan Queen.

I slowly took out my phone and texted my true pack.

***

"Elara is just a free maid without a wolf form. Why would I ever mark her?"

The voice coming from my phone screen belonged to Kael, my mate of four years.

On the grainy security footage, he had Selene pinned against the heavy oak door of his study. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him. Selene tilted her head back, laughing, before Kael crashed his mouth down on hers.

I stood in the center of the drafty manor hall, my fingers gripping the phone so hard the edges bit into my skin. The cold marble floor seeped through my thin socks.

"But she thinks you're going to make her Luna at the ceremony tomorrow," Selene purred, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Let her think what she wants," Kael replied, his tone dismissive. "She's useful. Nothing more."

Useful.

I paused the video. The frozen frame showed Kael's hand sliding up Selene's thigh.

I lowered the phone and stared at my left wrist. Thick, jagged scars crisscrossed the pale skin, wrapping all the way up to my elbow. Three years ago, a rival pack's poison paralyzed Kael's legs. The healers said he would never walk again. I locked myself in the basement and bled myself for three days and three nights, draining my Lycan core to synthesize the antidote.

I gave up my wolf form. I severed my ties with my royal heritage. All to save a man who now called me a free maid.

Four years of devotion, reduced to a joke.

The faint squeak of rubber tires echoed down the hallway.

I quickly locked my phone and shoved it into my apron pocket.

Kael rolled into the hall in his wheelchair. A thick woolen blanket covered his legs. He slumped against the leather backrest, his face arranged into a mask of exhaustion. He played the crippled Alpha well, hiding his recovery from the pack to weed out his political rivals. I kept his secret, nursing him in the shadows, waiting for the day he would finally stand and claim his title.

"Elara," he grumbled, rubbing his temples. "My legs are acting up again. The dull ache is unbearable today."

He didn't look at me. He just expected me to rush to his side, exactly like I always did.

"Go to the kitchen and make that bone broth porridge," he ordered. "Make sure it boils for an hour. My stomach can't handle anything else."

I didn't move.

"Did you hear me?" Kael snapped, finally lifting his head. His brows furrowed in annoyance.

My gaze shifted from his perfectly styled hair to the dark circles he had poorly faked under his eyes. He must have just come from Selene's room.

"You seem tired," I said, my voice flat. "Did you overexert yourself?"

Kael sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Pack business. The elders kept me in meetings all morning. I need food, Elara. Not questions."

"Meetings," I repeated. "In your study?"

"Yes, in my study. Where else?"

"Was it a productive meeting?"

He glared at me, his patience fraying. "What is wrong with you today? I am injured. I am hungry. Do as you're told."

"I'm not making the porridge."

Kael froze. His hand dropped from his face. "Excuse me?"

"I said no."

"Are you trying to pick a fight right now?" He gripped the armrests of his chair, his knuckles turning white. "Tomorrow is the Alpha ceremony. I am under an immense amount of stress, and you decide to throw a tantrum over cooking a meal?"

"It's not about the meal, Kael."

Resting on the armchair beside me was the midnight-blue Alpha ceremony suit. I had spent the last two weeks hand-stitching the silver thread along the lapels, ensuring he would look flawless when he officially took over the pack tomorrow.

I picked up the jacket. The fabric felt heavy, burdened with my wasted effort.

"Put that down," Kael warned, his voice dropping into a low growl. "You'll wrinkle it."

"I made this for my mate," I said, running a thumb over the silver embroidery. "For the man who promised to stand by me, just as I stood by him."

"And I am that man," he shot back, rolling his chair forward a few inches. "Stop being dramatic. Go to the kitchen."

"You're a liar."

Kael's eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone. You forget your place in this house."

"My place?" I laughed, a harsh, dry sound that echoed in the empty hall. "My place is the free maid, isn't it? The wolfless stray who warms your bed and cooks your food while you plan to mark someone else."

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

Kael's expression shifted. The fake exhaustion vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. "You went into my study."

"I didn't have to," I replied. "The security cameras feed directly to the main server. You forgot to wipe the logs."

He didn't apologize. He didn't deny it. He just clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Selene is a pureblood," Kael stated, dropping the facade completely. "She has a strong wolf. The pack needs a Luna who can fight, not a crippled human who faints at the sight of blood."

He pointed a finger at my scarred arm. "Look at yourself, Elara. You have no aura. You have no strength. I appreciate what you did for me, but gratitude doesn't run a pack."

"Gratitude," I whispered. The word tasted like ash.

"I was going to tell you after the ceremony," he continued, his tone turning pragmatic. "You can stay in the manor. I'll even give you a generous allowance. But Selene will take the Luna title."

"You think I want your money?"

"What else do you have?" he mocked. "You gave up everything for me. You have nowhere else to go. Accept the reality, Elara. You are nothing without this pack."

I walked over to the large metal trash can near the entryway. I held the tailored suit over the rim.

"What are you doing?" Kael demanded, gripping the wheels of his chair.

"Taking out the trash."

I let go.

The expensive fabric slid into the garbage, landing on top of crumpled papers and discarded coffee grounds.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Kael yelled. He shoved the wheels forward, completely forgetting his act. "That's my ceremonial suit!"

"You can wear whatever you want tomorrow," I said, stepping back. "I won't be attending."

"You are my mate," he snarled, his eyes flashing gold. "You will stand beside me, or you will face the pack's discipline. You belong to me."

"I belong to no one."

"You have nothing!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. "No wolf, no family, no power. You think you can just walk away? I am the Alpha. I decide when you leave."

"You aren't the Alpha yet," I reminded him. "And you don't control me."

I pulled my phone back out. My fingers didn't tremble. I opened the encrypted messaging app I hadn't touched since the day I ran away from the Lycan territory.

I typed a single message to my mother, the Lycan Queen.

I agree to the marriage. Send a car for me.

Message sent. Read instantly.

Kael scoffed, trying to mask his sudden unease with arrogance. "Who are you texting? You have no one else. Your family abandoned you."

"We're done, Kael."

"We are done when I say we are done!" He pushed his wheelchair closer, reaching out to grab my arm.

As he lunged forward, the front wheel of his chair clipped the edge of the metal trash can. The impact jolted him hard to the right.

He flailed, trying to catch his balance. As his torso twisted, something snagged on the armrest and slipped out of his inner jacket pocket.

A piece of fabric fluttered to the floor, landing right beside my shoes.

It was a scrap of black lace, a bra reeking of Selene's signature vanilla and rose perfume.