I Endured 99 Betrayals, Only to Be Claimed Once by the Hockey Alpha

Eloide

“I agree.”

My voice came out steady, resolute, but soft. On the other end of the line, the woman exhaled in relief.

“I’ll come pick you up one week from now, Éloide,” she said gently. “I have something for you to wear. It’s tradition.”

“All right. Thank you… for accepting me.”

I ended the call and tilted my head up, watching the Vancouver sky shimmer in the summer heat. I questioned my sanity—for the ninety-third time—wondering why I kept forgiving a mate who only knew how to make promises and break them.

Just one more week.

I’d finally be free of Gavin Manuel—the golden boy of Canadian swimming and the future Alpha of the Frost Mountain Pack.

But titles didn’t mean anything anymore. Not after he shattered every ounce of trust I gave him.

I still remember standing in front of the Frost Mountain Elders, heart pounding, hope flickering inside me. That was the day I received the photo: Gavin, with Catherine—his “just like a sister” Catherine—pressed up against him in a pose far too cozy to explain away.

He claimed she got excited and kissed him by accident.

I wanted to believe him, but not a chance.

Then came the video—three unbearable minutes of them slow-dancing, her body molded to his like she belonged there. That same night, I had planned our matebond anniversary dinner. I ended up smashing the Tissot watch I’d bought him, right there in the middle of the restaurant.

And it wasn’t the last time.

Every betrayal? It always circled back to Catherine.

The final blow came during the pack’s official mating ceremony. I stood in the grand hall, dressed in a ceremonial gown, proud and ready to bind myself to my mate.

Then Gavin bolted.

Beta Kane had whispered something to him—Catherine had just gone through her first shift.

He left. Just like that. Cut our mind-link.

I ran out of the hall, pulling up my gown as whispers chased after me like knives. Beta Kane later told the room that the future Alpha had left due to a personal emergency.

I hid behind the cabin, dirt beneath my knees, tears carving hot lines down my face. That’s when Catherine sent me a video—of her and Gavin toasting, wine glasses clinking in triumph. Her sabotage had worked.

I ripped off the emerald pendant Gavin gave me years ago and threw it into the river. My fingers dug into the earth as I cried—not just from heartbreak, but from the humiliation. The betrayal. The loneliness of being abandoned by the one who was supposed to choose me—every time.

The end came when his mistress killed me. Everyone thought I was dead—but I wasn’t. I came back.

Gavin came running, begging me to take him back—right when I was already bound to an arranged bond.

But he wasn’t getting that chance again. It was way too late. He didn’t even deserve the regret.

I shut him down—cold and clear—after the 99 times he chose someone else over me.

**

He came home that night with softness in his eyes, the kind he used to save just for me. He kissed me like he still loved me. And for a moment, I almost let myself believe it.

Then his phone buzzed.

He answered without hesitation.

Of course, it was Catherine.

“Gavin,” she purred dramatically, “my mature age party’s starting. I’m not doing a thing until you show up. Don’t let me down.”

Same old song. If I spoke up, he’d accuse me of being paranoid. Say Catherine was just family. Then I’d be left crying into my pillow while he ran to her side.

Catherine had moved from Winnipeg, claiming the cold made her anxious. Now she lived on our floor, just one hallway away, with a balcony that overlooked the woods. Gavin insisted it helped her sleep.

One time, she barged into our room after seeing an injured omega in the hallway—while Gavin and I were mating.

That day, everything inside me cracked.

He promised to set boundaries. Promised to talk to her.

But like always, those promises vanished.

She seeped into every part of us. Quiet and constant like poison in water.

Now here we were again. Her voice through the phone, sugary and manipulative, and Gavin—once again—rushing off like he owed her everything.

I was pregnant. I’d think that would mean something. That he'd put us first.

But all I got were five weeks of silence and emotional abandonment.

I wanted to scream. To burn her world to ash. To leave vile comments on every flirtatious post she uploaded.

Instead, I sat there and watched her party video go viral. Ten thousand likes. Smug emojis. Comments praising Gavin’s “sweetness.”

She even replied to one:

[#Gavin always takes care of me. Don’t be jealous!]

I threw my phone on the bed.

I should’ve known better.

By the ninety-sixth betrayal, my heart was just… numb.

I fantasized about slashing his tires, poisoning her shampoo. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Some part of me was still waiting. Waiting for what, I didn’t even know.

Gavin came in at 3 a.m with Black Orchid perfume-Catherine’s aroma still lingered on him.

Slipped into bed, pressed his warm hands against me, kissed my skin like he still had a right to.

“Éloide,” he whispered. “I’m here now. I’m not leaving you again.”

But I didn’t feel anything.

“I’m tired, Gavin. Let me sleep.”

He stilled, then backed away. “Okay. Rest, babe.”

When I woke at nine, the space beside me was empty again.

I checked my phone. New notification.

A video.

Steam hissed. Water splashed. Catherine’s breathy voice laughed in the background as she called Gavin “babe.”

He was in the hot tub. I didn’t even need to see his face to know. I recognized the tattoo on his side—my name. The one he said would prove his devotion.

“You’ll always know it’s me with this, Éloide.”

What a joke.

My check-up was today. He promised to come. Just like he promised the last time—and instead left to pick her up from a nightclub.

I didn’t expect anything anymore.

I still called him, already guessing Catherine would be the one to pick up.

"Hi, Eloide. Gavin’s getting dressed right now.” Catherine said with false sweetness,”You know, I really should thank you for disappointing him last night. It gave me the perfect chance to make him happy."

I ended the call.

She thought she won.

My grip tightened around the arms of the clinic chair. Dr. Brielle Calder glanced at me with concern.

I drew a breath. My voice didn’t shake.

“I don’t want this baby, Doctor.”