The Pain of the Mark. After Faking My Death, I Drove the Alpha to Madness
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The moment I severed the mate bond at the Moon Goddess’s altar, the cedarwood scent of Alpha Andrew—once comforting—reeked of panic.
"I, Mia Evernight, reject you as my fated mate."
My voice didn’t shake. Not anymore.
The parchment, once a symbol of love and eternal vows, shredded beneath my claws. The torn pieces scattered into the sacred fire like snowflakes licked by hellfire. The golden crest, the one he swore over three years ago under a full moon, flared and seared his palm—burning the lie into his flesh.
He had promised me forever.
He had lied.
The hall fell silent—until every Gamma warrior dropped to their knees.
The tribal elder didn’t blink. He raised his staffs, the crystal tip glowing cold blue as it aimed at my back.
“Seize that rogue! She’s defiled the altar! Throw her in the pack’s prison!”
I didn’t fight. Not because I was weak, but I was done.
Two years passed in that living hell.
"I, Mia Evernight, reject you as my fated mate."
My voice didn’t shake. Not anymore.
The parchment, once a symbol of love and eternal vows, shredded beneath my claws. The torn pieces scattered into the sacred fire like snowflakes licked by hellfire. The golden crest, the one he swore over three years ago under a full moon, flared and seared his palm—burning the lie into his flesh.
He had promised me forever.
He had lied.
The hall fell silent—until every Gamma warrior dropped to their knees.
The tribal elder didn’t blink. He raised his staffs, the crystal tip glowing cold blue as it aimed at my back.
“Seize that rogue! She’s defiled the altar! Throw her in the pack’s prison!”
I didn’t fight. Not because I was weak, but I was done.
Two years passed in that living hell.












































