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THE NIGHT MY MATE BURNED ME ALIVE
THE NIGHT MY MATE BURNED ME ALIVE
Timothy

CHAPTER 1: The Night My Mate Buried Me Alive

last update Veröffentlichungsdatum: 21.06.2026 17:43:53

ARC 1:REBIRTH 

​I always believed my mate would be the last person standing beside me when the world turned against me.

​Instead, he was the one who ordered my execution.

​The iron chains around my wrists rattled as a bitter night wind swept across the execution square. The harsh clink echoed off stone, scraping against the uneasy silence of the crowd. My skin was raw where the shackles bit deep, dried blood gluing fabric to flesh with every breath I took. Yet I barely felt the sting. Physical agony had long since ceased to be the worst thing happening to me tonight.

​The entire kingdom had gathered to watch me die.

​Nobles crowded beneath embroidered house banners. Warriors packed the front rows, their polished armor glinting like silver teeth beneath the moonlight. Servants shoved against the perimeter, whispering behind cupped hands, while children sat perched on their fathers' shoulders—too young to understand death, but eager for the spectacle all the same.

​Every single one of them had come to see the traitor burn.

​I swallowed past the dust and dryness in my throat, forcing my chin up.

​My eyes found Kael instantly.

​They always did.

​Alpha Kael Blackwood stood atop the royal dais under the silver wolf crests of his house. Moonlight washed over the sharp, ruthless contours of his face, catching in his dark hair and turning his golden eyes into polished amber. He looked exactly as he had the day we met—imposing, untouchable, devastating.

​The sight of him still struck like a physical blow.

​It was almost humiliating. After everything he had done, after every atrocity permitted under his command, some stubborn, foolish part of me still reacted to his presence.

​Deep inside my chest, my wolf let out a low, whimpering cry.

​Not from fear, but from profound heartbreak.

​Our mate wasn't looking down at us with fury or grief. He wasn't truly looking at us at all. His gaze was hollow and distant—the unreadable expression of a sovereign carrying out a sentence on a stranger. There was no warmth left. No trace of the mate bond. No shadow of the years we had shared, or the future I had once bled to build with him.

​A bitter, hysterical laugh clawed at my throat.

​Five years.

​Five years of loving him in silence. Five years of waiting for him to choose me over his duties. Five years of convincing myself that if I gave enough of my soul, he would one day look at me with the same devotion I held for him.

​I had built my whole life on that pathetic lie.

​Gods, what a fool I’d been.

​Movement near the platform pulled my attention away. The crowd parted like water, clearing a path for Vivienne.

​My cousin crossed the stone stage with effortless poise, every stride measured, every smile carefully curated. Her golden hair caught the torchlight, and her silver gown shimmered as if woven from fallen stars.

​She looked every bit the future Luna.

​The sickening irony made my stomach churn. Vivienne glided to Kael’s side, slipping her hand naturally around his forearm. The gesture was small, almost casual, yet it felt like a serrated blade thrust between my ribs.

​The square erupted.

​"Luna Vivienne!"

​"Our true Luna!"

​"Long live the Alpha and Luna!"

​The cheers rolled over the stone like thunder.

​For a fractured second, I wasn't standing in chains at the stake. I was seventeen again, sitting alone in my bedroom with a needle pressed against bleeding fingers, carefully stitching silver beads onto a ceremony dress I thought I’d wear for him. I remembered blushing whenever the guards whispered Kael's name. I remembered lying awake at night, imagining what it would feel like to stand beside him before the pack.

​I remembered believing those dreams were my destiny.

​The memory burned hotter than the iron against my wrists.

​From the dais, Vivienne peered down at me, quiet satisfaction sparkling in her blue eyes. "You still look proud, Seraphina," she purred, her voice soft enough for only the front rows to catch.

​I kept my jaw locked and offered her no response.

​Her smile broadened. "I wonder where all that pride will go once the wood catches."

​Ripples of laughter broke out among the crowd. Real, amused laughter.

​I stared back at them. These were the same pack members I had bled for on the border lines. The same families whose children I had pulled into storm shelters during rogue raids. The same vendors who had once smiled and handed me sweet loaves in the marketplace.

​Now, I was nothing more than evening entertainment.

​A cold numbness settled over my skin. I used to care desperately about their approval. I used to lie awake torturing myself over how to earn their respect. Looking at their eager, bloodthirsty faces now, I couldn't remember why.

​My eyes swept across the front lines, searching for familiar faces. Men and women I had known for years deliberately averted their gaze. A few looked faintly guilty. Most just looked relieved that it was me up there instead of them.

​Not one person stepped forward. Not one voice called for mercy.

​I should have known. Yet the betrayal still sliced through what remained of my heart.

​Kael stepped to the edge of the stone railing, and the arena plummeted into absolute silence. When he spoke, his command voice echoed effortlessly to the farthest edges of the square.

​"Seraphina Nightshade."

​Hearing my name on his lips nearly undid me. For years, I had envisioned him saying it with tenderness—whispered against my temple in the quiet hours of the night.

​Instead, it sounded like a death sentence.

​"You stand accused of conspiring against the Crown."

​The crowd roared in agreement.

​"You stand accused of practicing forbidden blood magic."

​More jeers shattered the night.

​"You stand accused of high treason."

​Someone near the front spat onto the dirt inches from my bare feet. I watched the dark moisture soak into the soil, my chest turning to ice.

​The trial had been a farce. The evidence was forged. The witnesses had been bought or threatened. Everyone on that platform knew it, but no one cared. Once a kingdom chooses its villain, the truth becomes an inconvenient nuisance.

​When I looked back up, Kael was staring directly down at me.

​For one agonizing second, neither of us breathed. I searched the amber depths of his eyes, hunting for any flicker of doubt. Any sign that he remembered who I was. Any proof that beneath the stoic mask of the Alpha King, the man I loved still existed.

​I found nothing. Just vast, hollow space.

​The emptiness crushed whatever tiny spark of hope I had kept hidden.

​"Do you have any final words?" he asked, his tone level.

​My throat tightened. Memories crashed through my mind in a suffocating wave—his rare, genuine smile; the warmth of his hand against my spine; every fragile dream I had built around a life that would never exist. Tears scorched the back of my eyes, and I hated myself for them. Hated that I still cared.

​Slowly, I straightened my posture. The chains clanked heavily against the stake as thousands of eyes locked onto me.

​"You once asked me why I never feared death," I said, my voice cutting cleanly through the quiet.

​A faint crease formed between Kael's dark brows.

​He remembered. Good.

​"Do you remember what I told you?"

​The silence stretched thin, tight as a bowstring.

​A faint, bitter smile touched my lips. "I told you I wasn't afraid because I believed you would never let anything happen to me."

​The square went dead silent.

​For the first time all night, something shattered behind Kael's golden eyes. Pain—raw, unmistakable agony—flashed across his face. It lasted only a fraction of a second before he slammed his mask back into place, but I saw it.

​So did Vivienne. Her manicured fingers tightened around his arm so hard her knuckles turned white.

Fascinating. She wasn't nearly as secure in her victory as she pretended to be.

​I turned my head away from them both, lifting my gaze to the full moon hanging cold and distant in the night sky.

​"I loved this pack," I spoke softly to the quiet square. "I loved these people. I loved my mate." My throat burned, but my voice remained steady. "But none of you ever loved me back."

​This time, no one laughed. No one cheered. The words hung over the crowd like heavy smoke.

​High Elder Vane raised his carved oak staff. Ancient runes etched around the base of the execution stake flared to life, casting an eerie azure light across the stone. Blue fire erupted from the floor, filling the air with the sharp, ozone smell of dark magic.

​And for the first time, cold, primal terror struck me. Not the abstract idea of death, but the violent, instinctual panic of a cornered animal. My stomach twisted, my heart hammering like a trapped bird against my ribs.

​I was twenty-two years old. I wasn't ready to die. I had so much left to see, so many stories unwritten.

​I still wanted a future.

​The first flame touched my skin.

​Agony exploded across my body.

​My scream tore through the square as the magic fire surged upward, devouring clothing and flesh. Heat consumed everything. The spectators vanished behind a blinding wall of smoke and pain. The world tilted violently beneath my feet.

​Through the wall of fire, I saw Kael move.

​Just a single, desperate step forward.

​His face was deathly pale, his fists clenched so hard his arms trembled against the railing.

​And in that agonizing flash of clarity, I understood.

​He wasn't certain. He had never been certain. He doubted the council's verdict. He doubted the evidence. He doubted my guilt.

​And he was letting them burn me alive anyway.

​That realization cut deeper than the flames melting my skin.

​Then, deep within the dark, quiet spaces of my chest, something ancient violently tore open.

​A pulse. Heavy, ancient, and absolute.

​The blue magic lashing at my body suddenly turned a deep, blood-soaked crimson.

​The flagstones beneath the execution square shuddered. Cracks spider-webbed across the court, shaking the stone towers to their foundations.

​A sound split the heavens—a deafening, subterranean roar that vibrated in the marrow of everyone present. Not the howl of an Alpha. Not the cry of any wolf this realm had ever known.

​Panic broke out. The crowd's taunts turned into terrified shrieks as people trampled one another to reach the gates.

​Red lightning tore across the cloudless sky. Burning runes ignited beneath my flesh, searing through veins and bone like liquid fire. A voice, heavier than mountains and older than the first kingdom, echoed through my soul:

"The Dragon Queen has returned."

​Air locked in my throat.

​The crimson inferno erupted outward in a blinding shockwave, shattering the iron chains into melted shrapnel.

​And for the first time that night, as the heavy smoke cleared, every soul in the kingdom looked up at me not with disgust—

​But with absolute, paralyzing terror.

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