When the Alpha’s Lies Became My Freedom

I stormed into the Red Moon Pack’s municipal building, my body aching from the fresh bruises Leonel had left on me. My face was a patchwork of cuts and swelling, but the clerk, Remi Hansen, barely glanced at me before dismissing my plea with a cold, “You’re still not eligible for mate bond rejection.”

This was my ninth attempt to sever the bond with Leonel Wheeler, the Alpha of the Red Moon Pack, and each time, my rejection papers had been swapped with reconciliation agreements. The system was rigged, and I was done playing by their rules.

“Reconcile for what?” I shouted, my voice cracking with rage. “You’ve never endured my suffering, yet you demand my forgiveness!” In a swift motion, I pressed the utility knife against Remi’s neck, my hands trembling but resolute. “In ten minutes, I want to see the person who tampered with my rejection papers. For every minute I wait, I’ll draw more blood.”

The room erupted into chaos. Omegas and Deltas alike cried out, calling me a lunatic, accusing me of taking my anger out on them, my packmates. But I spun the knife leisurely, watching a thin bead of blood form on Remi’s neck. “One minute’s gone,” I said coldly. “I only want the person who swapped my documents.”

I knew that person was in this building.

Five minutes earlier, I had been in the Municipal Director’s office. He sat comfortably behind his desk, legs crossed, his Alpha aura filling the room with an oppressive weight. “Adeline,” he said, his tone patronizing, “you should give your mate another chance. No bond stays broken forever.”

I slammed the utility knife into his desk, the blade embedding itself into the wood. “Another chance?” I snarled, my wolf growling in the back of my mind. “How many chances does he deserve? How many more bruises, broken ribs, or lost pups do I have to endure?”

He flinched but held his ground, his Alpha tone sharp as he barked, “I’ve told you time and again; it’s your mate who refuses the rejection! Are the signatures on the agreement forged? The fingerprints are his!”

“If this bond isn’t severed,” I hissed, leaning in close, “it’s worth taking some of you down with me.”

The sound of sirens outside interrupted us, and a familiar voice called out: “Adeline, let them go; let’s talk.”

It was Officer Robin Harrison, a Gamma warrior who had mediated conflicts between Leonel and me before. Through the glass, he gestured, “We’ve filed your mate’s abuse case. Come out, and we’ll make sure justice is served.”

I burst into laughter, tears streaming down my face. Did he really think I believed those words anymore? This was my ninth plea for mate bond rejection after being battered by Leonel.

I had been the perfect Luna, managing the pack’s affairs seamlessly and standing by Leonel’s side. But after he became reckless, life turned into a nightmare. The first time he left me with a black eye, I told myself it was a moment of weakness. The second time, he kicked me so hard I miscarried. I took the hospital certificate to file for rejection, only to be told the agreement was invalid. The third time, with four fractured ribs, I returned with a report documenting my injuries, but once again, I was told I didn’t meet the criteria.

I refused to accept this. I compiled evidence repeatedly, but every rejection application disappeared without a trace. This time, I made three secret marks on the agreement and watched as Remi stored it in the file. But when I returned the next day to check, I was told the documents had turned into blank sheets.

Now, I stood in the pack hall, the knife steady in my hand, my wolf growling in defiance. I stared at the surveillance camera and pressed the blade further. “I’m done waiting,” I said, my voice low but firm. “If the system won’t give me justice, I’ll take it myself.”