Chapter 3: Cold-Blooded Betrayal

- WILLOW

"Why the hell are you in here?"

The silence in the Alpha's private suite was broken by my sharp, demanding voice.

I was standing near the edge of the bed, my hands still shaking a bit from the text message Sherlyn had sent an hour ago.

Dexter didn’t even flinch. He stood with his legs crossed at the ankle, leaning against the mahogany balcony doors, seemingly as relaxed as a sitting duck, too relaxed for a low-ranking pack worker who had just trespassed into the most secure quarters of the estate.

"You should learn to lock your balcony, Willow," he drawled, his smooth, lazy voice grating on my nerves. "It was easy for anyone to simply walk right in."

"You’re a gamma, Dexter. If Callum finds you here, he’ll have you whipped within an inch of your life," I snapped, taking a step forward, my defensive instincts flaring. "Get out. Now."

Dexter straightened up in the doorframe and made a light mocking chuckle. He didn't look scared to death. Instead, he walked slowly into the room, seemingly rather amused. It didn't seem like a very nice trick for a nobody who always blended quietly in the background.

"Callum? The great Alpha?" His eyes narrowed, catching something strange and dangerous before it slipped away behind his lazy smirk. "Don't be so naive about another man's presence in your room, sweetheart. While your precious Alpha is downstairs playing the nice, devoted mate to his shiny new Luna, his actual wife is left up here to sleep all alone in an empty chamber. You're worrying about the wrong threat."

My throat tightened. "He is fulfilling his duty to the pack elders. It's temporary."

"Temporary? You really love drinking the poison he feeds you, don't you?" Dexter was standing only a few feet away as he stared at me right in the eye, making my hair stand on end. "Wake up, Willow. The whole pack is whispering, and you're trying to play the loyal mate all night while he's fucking her down there. It's not about the elders, and it sure as hell isn’t about tradition."

“Shut up,” I whispered, my chest aching. "You have no idea what you're doing. We're fated mates destined to be together. He wouldn't do that to me."

“Fated mates never leave their women to freeze in a dark room while they are warming another woman's bed,” Dexter said solemnly. "He has been exploiting you from the beginning, keeps you hidden up here to be a shameful secret because you don't give him the heir he is looking for, while Sherlyn gives him everything he needs to secure his throne. They’ve been playing you for a fool since the day his brother died."

"That’s a lie!" I hissed, the pain bubbling from my chest. I refused to believe it. Admitting Dexter was correct meant I'd have to say my marriage, my sacrifices, and the little, miraculous seed that was growing in my womb were based on ash. "You're just a bitter nobody trying to stir up trouble. Get out before I call the guards!"

Dexter studied me for a long and silent moment. But in his eyes showed no more mockery, only cold, hard pity that was deeper than any insult.

"Fine," he mumbled, stepping back to the edge of the balcony. He paused, looking over his shoulder as the cool night wind tossed his dark hair. "If you don't believe me, go look on the east wing and see where he spends his nights. See what he's willing to give up for his crown. Don't say I didn't tell you when the glass finally breaks."

Before I could reply, he stepped backwards over the railing. My heart jumped to my throat as I ran to the edge and waited for that awful thud in the flagstones below. But there was nothing. The courtyard was completely empty. Dexter had slipped away into the darkness, disappearing silently as he had come in.

My hands trembled against the cold stone of the railing.

I could not stop his words from playing in my mind, a vicious chant that would not die down. I stood there for ten minutes, and the silence was coming down on me until I finally couldn't take it. I needed to see Callum. I wanted him to hold me, to tell me Dexter was a liar, that everything was going to be okay.

I wrapped a thick shawl around my shoulders and headed for the private chamber, then hurried down the quiet, carpeted corridors towards Callum's study. He tended to work until late on pack logistics.

I shoved the thick, heavy oak doors open. "Callum?"

The room was completely dark. The fireplace was cold, and his desk was tidy, with the leather chair neatly tucked under it.

I swallowed hard as I felt my stomach twisting. Is he really still in Sherlyn's room? I asked myself.

I couldn't get the idea out of my head.

Turning on my heel, I walked toward the east wing, the luxurious guest suites where Sherlyn had lived since her husband’s passing. Each step I took felt like a stumble in the mud, and the nearer that I got to her doors, the shallower my breathing became.

I turned a corner at the east wing near the grand staircase and froze.

Sherlyn was already walking out into the hallway. Her long hair was slightly damp, hanging over her shoulder, and she wore a plush, silk bathrobe, loosely tied around her waist. When she caught sight of me, she paused, and her perfect face was filled with a slow, cruel smile.

She sauntered over, and the soft sound of her bare feet hitting the floorboards was like a death knell.

"Looking for Callum? Why won't you give up, Willow?" She spoke maliciously, enjoying every second of it. “He has been with me all night as far as he is concerned. He's tied up.”

I swallowed hard as though the glass scraped down my throat and tried to make my voice sound normal, using every bit of dignity I had left. "Sherlyn, I want to hear it from him. We are fated mates; we promised never to betray each other. A title doesn't change what the Moon Goddess ordained."

Sherlyn laughed disdainfully, her eyes gleaming with disgust. "The Moon Goddess isn't the one in charge of this pack, Willow. Power is. And when you have a fated bond, it doesn't mean a goddamn thing when the Alpha finds a woman who can give him what he wants."

Slowly, she stretched out and reached for the tie on her bathrobe and untied it.

My breath hitched. Under the robe, she was wearing sheer, costly lingerie, but that wasn't what caught my eye.

Dark and fresh bruises were clearly seen against her pale skin along the edge of the collarbone, and a fresh, angry Alpha bite was visibly marked on the curve of her neck. There was still a red, inflamed, and pungent aroma of Callum's skin.

"He has already marked me," Sherlyn whispered, leaning in closer so I could smell his scent radiating off her skin. "One day very soon, he will completely abandon you. You’re just a shadow in this house, Willow. A barren, useless, fat ass."

Trudy, my inner wolf, roared with a fierce, desperate howl of agony and betrayal. The pain was excruciating, and my chest felt like it was going to split open.

I looked at the mark and stood in disbelief, tears of hot fury rolling down my face. Dexter hadn't lied. Callum had broken the sacred bond. He had already given his mark to another woman.

But then, as Sherlyn moved another step forward, her eyes lit with a sick sort of triumph, a wave of panic swept over me. My hands instinctively flew to my stomach, covering my belly to protect the fragile life growing inside me from the toxic malice radiating off the malicious woman in front of me.

Sherlyn’s eyes instantly dropped to my hands. Her brow furrowed, her expression turning dangerously sharp.

"What?" she hissed. "Are you pregnant too?"

The venom in her tone snapped me back to reality. If she knew about this baby, she would obviously destroy it. I couldn't let her touch my child.

"No," I said quickly, forcing my expression to go blank as I lowered my hands back to my sides. "Don't be ridiculous."

Sherlyn sneered, though the suspicion didn't entirely leave her eyes. "You'd better not be. No one can take my place. No one is taking this crown from me or my children."

I stepped back in shock at the ruthless ambition and cold cruelty in her eyes. She didn't look like a widow who was still grieving for her deceased husband. She was a monster who pretended to be a victim, and Callum was letting her manipulate him.

"You're insane," I whispered.

"I'm the Luna," Sherlyn snarled.

Suddenly, before I could react, she lunged forward. Her hands slammed violently into my shoulders, pushing me backwards with a surprising werewolf strength.

I was taken aback. The world spun wildly out of control as I knocked my foot into the void at the edge of the landing. I tumbled backwards down the steep, wooden flight of stairs, my body crashing painfully against the hard edges of the steps before I finally hit the marble floor at the bottom with a sickening thud.

A sharp, piercing agony exploded in my abdomen. As the wave of sharp and rending pain tore through my lower body, I gasped for air and curled my body into a fetal position.

Above me, Sherlyn didn't run down to help. Instead, she slowly sat down on the top step, touching her pregnant belly and let out a piercing, theatrical shriek that reverberated throughout the estate.

"Callum! Help me! I'm in labor! The babies are coming!"

The heavy pounding of feet immediately broke the quiet of the house. Callum ran as quickly as he could from the executive hallway, his face as white as a sheet of paper and trembling with fear. He did not bother to look down the stairs. He lunged straight for Sherlyn, wrapping his arms around her, picking her up effortlessly.

"I've got you, Sherlyn. I've got you," he muttered frantically, turning to race down the opposite side of the grand staircase toward the exit to take her to the hospital.

As he sprinted past the lower landing where I lay, warm blood was already spreading between my thighs, soaking through my nightgown in a deep crimson stain. The pain in my stomach was taking my breath away, a cold, hollow tearing that told me my worst nightmare was coming true.

With the very last bit of my strength, I reached out as Callum passed, my bloody fingers desperately catching the fabric of his sleeve.

"Callum... please," I choked out, tears streaming down my face, my voice trembling with despair. "Our baby... I'm really pregnant. My belly hurts... please, take me to the hospital..."

Callum paused for a moment and fixed his eyes on my bloody figure. But there was no love in his eyes, no recognition of our fated bond, only a deep, burning irritation and disgust.

"At a time like this, you're still joking to get attention?" he snapped angrily, shaking his arm roughly to break my grip. He tightened his hold on a smirking Sherlyn. "Now stop playing games, Willow! If you really want to be useful, get off the floor and come with me to the hospital for Sherlyn!"

He didn't wait for a response, but he turned and sprinted out of the front doors as the heavy oak front entrance slammed shut behind him.

I fell back onto the cold, marble floor, my fingers balled up in the pool of my own blood. The despair was far worse than anything my body could feel. He had left me. He had abandoned our child to die.

From the shadowy kitchen hall, I heard footsteps coming towards me. The elderly pack butler, his face filled with horror and tears, knelt beside me, his hands shaking as he saw the blood.

"Oh, Luna... Miss Willow..." he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "I cannot bear to watch this... Hold on, please. I'm taking you to the hospital right now."

Then I heard another set of footsteps approaching. The last thing I saw before blacking out was the crimson stain covering the Ashbourne crest on the floor, and I knew certainly that Willow of Ashbourne Pack died right there in that blood.