He Planned My Fake Death, Then Mourned Me

In the third year after my mate and I bonded, I was handed over to Alpha Kyle Draven like a bargaining chip. Kyle never forced me to take his mark. He treated me kindly and gave me my freedom. He let me go back to my old pack regularly to see my family. When the backlash left me bedridden with a high fever, he stayed by my side all night. Little by little, I fell for him. It wasn't until later that I found out the truth. Kyle was using me as bait to distract the rogues running wild across his lands while he secretly rescued his fated mate. Once the woman he'd longed for was safe, he no longer needed me. All his warmth had been an act. He placed a bottle of sleeping potion in my palm. "It will suppress your vital signs for only three hours. "After the funeral, my people will wake you and take you far away, to the southern lands." So I went back to my pack to say goodbye. My former mate, Miles Carver, came to pick me up himself. My parents held me, trembling, and told me how much they'd missed me these past two years. I thought someone here, at least, would want me to stay. But that very night, my former mate carved my headstone himself. My mother dressed me in the clothes I was meant to die in. My father chose a solid wood coffin for me. They all tried to persuade me. "You'll only appear to be dead. You can start a whole new life in the south." As I watched my pack bustle around, it hit me that every word they'd said made sense. The Alpha wanted to welcome his fated mate. My former mate wanted to erase the shame of giving me away. My pack wanted to protect its standing and its honor. They'd planned every detail of my fake death. They kept saying it was for my own good, but no one asked if I wanted it. They wanted a perfect show. But I didn't want to play my part anymore.