The painful betrayal

Katherine Ashford

“He will break you, Katherine.”

Her mother’s voice whispered in the corridors of my mind, soft but sharp, echoing through the years. I had laughed then—too young, too certain, too desperately in love to hear caution. Now it rang louder than my own heartbeat, unstoppable.

I sat on the cold stone floor of my chambers, the divorce papers spread before me, my fingers trembling against the delicate parchment. The words on the page were absolute. Irrevocable. Final.

I remembered the first time I had truly seen him. Not the polished Alpha he had become, but the boy I’d first stumbled across in the training grounds—dust in his hair, muscles straining under the sun. He hadn’t been special then, just another Omega, another face among many. But something in his defiance had caught me.

Curiosity turned to admiration. Admiration became obsession. I followed his victories and his stumbles as if they were my own. I whispered prayers to the Moon Goddess, hoping she would bless him, hoping he would notice me.

By sixteen, I had started giving. Small things at first—a warm meal when the other children went hungry, books when the pack library couldn’t provide. By seventeen, I had become his shadow, funding his training, his education, his family’s needs. Every gift a silent vow: I will make you strong. I will make you mine.

I had believed it was love. I had convinced myself it was noble. But love, I learned, is not a currency. It cannot be bought with gold, or with favors, or with devotion. He was never mine to hold.

By the time I turned twenty-one, I had given him everything—my wealth, my loyalty, my heart. And when we married, it felt like a triumph. Against the council’s murmurs, against my mother’s warnings, I had finally believed in a future that was ours alone.

But love is patient only when it is mutual. And Dominic had never loved me the way I loved him.

The first signs were small: unexplained absences, nights spent on council matters, whispers in the corridors. Then came the betrayals I could no longer ignore—red lipstick on his collar, gifts I hadn’t sent, messages I was never meant to see. I convinced myself I imagined them, that the moonlight was playing tricks on my mind. But the truth has a way of clawing its way into even the tightest defenses.

I had confronted him once. My hands had trembled as I demanded the truth. He had smiled that cold, silver smile I had loved for so long. “And so what?” he said. “A man cannot enjoy life? You are my Luna. Isn’t it your duty to trust me?”

And now here I was—papers signed, marriage ended, and the man I had built from nothing declaring another woman as his own. Smiling for the pack. Smiling for me. Smiling for the world.

My hands trembled as I pressed my forehead to the cold stone floor, desperate to feel something other than the hollow ache of betrayal. The scent of burnt incense still hung in the air, mixed with the faint trace of him—cedar and smoke and memory.

I rose unsteadily, clutching the wall. The hall outside my chambers was eerily silent, though I could hear distant laughter—the celebration of my downfall.

No. I would not end this as a ghost in my own home. He owed me more than silence. He owed me truth.

I pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the corridor. My gown, once the color of moonlight, dragged across the stones like a shadow. My steps echoed, uneven but determined. I could hear voices from the courtyard, the murmur of the pack gathering.

“Luna!” someone hissed from the shadows—a maid I once trusted. She shrank back when our eyes met, clutching her apron as if my touch would stain her. “You shouldn’t be here. Please—go back inside. They’re saying things—terrible things—”

“I have done nothing wrong,” I said, though my voice broke on the last word. “I will speak to my husband.”But before I could take another step, a sudden blow struck my stomach. The air fled my lungs.

“Stop there, you evil Luna!” a guard barked, his voice thick with disgust. “Your wickedness has been exposed.”

Pain bloomed beneath my ribs. I stumbled, clutching my side. “No—please! Take me to Dom! I need to see my husband!”

They didn’t listen. Rough hands seized my arms, dragging me toward the courtyard. My feet scraped against the stone as the crowd swelled around us like a tide of hatred.

Spit. Stones. Words sharper than blades.

“Traitor!”

“Cursed Luna!”

“Shame on you!”

Faces I once protected now twisted with scorn. The same wolves who had feasted under my roof, who had bowed at my table, now hurled curses like venom. And there they stood—Dominic and Seraphina.

Hand in hand.

The world seemed to tilt. Seraphina’s dress was a shimmering scarlet, her hair cascading in golden waves. The mark of the Alpha’s mate glowed faintly on her neck.

“Aww, look at the poor Luna,” she sneered, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “How does it feel, being helpless for once?”

I turned to Dominic, desperate for even the smallest trace of mercy. “Dom, please… you know me. You know I would never—”

He gave me none. His eyes, once filled with fire, were ice now. “Enough. You’ve shamed this pack enough.”

“You think I’m evil?” I cried, looking toward the elders, the pack—anyone who would listen. “You don’t understand! She’s lying!”

Seraphina’s laughter cut through the chaos. “Lying? Shall I tell them the truth then?” She stepped forward, eyes alight with triumph. “Dominic and I—yes, we were fated mates. I rejected him only because I pitied you. I thought giving you a chance would make you happy. Poor little Luna—always so desperate to be loved.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

I shook my head violently. “No, no, that’s not true! Dominic, don’t let her twist your mind. I love you. You love me!”

“I don’t love you,” he said flatly.

The world went silent. Even the wind seemed to stop.

“But—” my voice broke “—I’m pregnant, Dom. We’re having a child.”

Laughter erupted—cold and cruel.

“Did you hear that?” Seraphina mocked. “She’s pregnant! But tell us, Luna, whose child is it?”

Dominic’s voice thundered, “Not mine.”

And then—a man stepped forward from the crowd. “She’s telling the truth,” he said with feigned guilt. “I’ve been with the Luna. Many times.”

“No…” I whispered, the sound barely a breath. “I don’t even know him!! Please!! Stop!!! I’m innocent!!”

The crowd roared—outrage, disgust, betrayal.

The first stone hit my shoulder.

The second struck my cheek.

And then—the third, the largest—slammed into my stomach.

Pain exploded through me, white-hot and blinding. My knees buckled. I could feel warmth spreading down my thighs—blood. My baby.

“Arrest her!” someone shouted.

My vision blurred, faces melting into a storm of colors and sound. The last thing I saw was Dominic’s back as he turned away.

The last thing I felt was the cold dirt beneath my palms… and the faint, flickering echo of the life inside me—slipping away.