Chapter 1
Seraphina's POV
I curled up on the cold prison floor, my body aching from cigarette burns and needle marks. With my broken leg, I couldn't even roll over to find a more comfortable position.
For the first time, they threw me in solitary confinement. But there was no relief in being alone. I knew all too well that what awaited me would be far worse than anything I'd endured in the past three months.
The click-clack of unhurried footsteps echoed down the concrete hallway until a pair of crimson stilettos came to a stop right in front of me.
Her delicate ankles peeked beneath a designer pink dress, and those eyes—crimson as fresh blood—held mine without mercy.
Rosalind Harcourt leaned down toward me, her expensive perfume washing over me as her lips parted. "You killed my sister," she said, "yet somehow you're still breathing."
I wanted to scream—it wasn't me. I didn't put the silver poison in that glass.
Three months ago, at the Werewolf Medical Alliance awards ceremony, I was honored as the youngest award-winning healer. As part of the celebration, I was asked to toast our major benefactor, thanking her for her generous contributions to werewolf healthcare.
Tragedy struck the moment she took a sip of the wine I'd handed her.
The heir to the Beta family of the Nightblood Pack—the fiancée of the most powerful Alpha King in the entire werewolf world—collapsed from silver poisoning.
I was the first healer to reach her side, desperately trying to save her life. But it was too late. She was gone.
The werewolf court found me guilty of murder and sentenced me to five years in Moonfrost Pack's most notorious prison. During these three months, they'd shaved my head, ripped out my fingernails, burned my skin with hot irons, and dislocated my limbs countless times. My wolf, Selene, had suffered permanent damage trying to protect me and now lay in an endless slumber.
Now, I was just another prisoner in tattered clothes, covered in blood and grime.
Even my fated Mate—Damian Whitmore, Alpha of Moonfrost Pack—abandoned me the moment the verdict was read. He'd turned his attention to Rosalind, the younger daughter of the Beta family.
She'd already won. So why was she here?
I kept quiet, shrinking deeper into the corner.
Rosalind moved closer, her red lips twisting into a predatory smirk. Something sinister flickered behind those blood-red eyes of hers.
Suddenly, a familiar scent hit my nose—maple wood and rum. It was Damian.
Hope surged through me like a tidal wave as I used every ounce of strength to crawl toward him. "Damian, I didn't kill her. Please, trust me," I begged.
I desperately wanted him to say, "I know, Seraphina. I know you're innocent." As an Alpha, one word from him could get me out of this hellhole.
His eyes raked over my bruised and broken body before hardening like stone. He crouched down, gripping my chin with fingers that felt as cold as his stare.
"The woman you killed was engaged to the most powerful Alpha in the world. Moonfrost Pack is nothing compared to him." His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "You expect me to go against him and sacrifice our entire pack just for you?"
His fingers dug into my skin. "You're just a worthless Omega. Who do you think you are?"
My body froze in shock.
Those words, "worthless" and "Omega", hit me like a lightning bolt.
Yeah, my family was at the bottom of the Moonfrost Pack hierarchy—just lowly Omegas, nothing like Rosalind's elite bloodline. But Damian never used to care about any of that.
I still remember that day three years ago, when I had just turned eighteen. At the ball, we discovered we were fated mates. He cupped my face tenderly and whispered, "My poor little wolf, why didn't I find you sooner?
"From today on, you'll be my princess. The happiest woman in the Nightblood Pack."
I believed him and fell hopelessly in love.
For three years, he truly treated me like a treasure—brewing mulled wine for me on the first snowy night, kneeling before the Moon Goddess statue when I took my medical licensing exam, flying all the way to Paris to have a one-of-a-kind dress made just for me. After every surgery, when I was completely exhausted, he would massage my tired muscles and soothe every inch of my soul with his kisses.
And now he was calling me "worthless".
"You told me I was your pride, more than once," I choked out.
He pressed his lips together tightly, refusing to answer.
Rosalind let out a mocking laugh. "Stop dreaming. A poor doctor who did a few famous surgeries actually thinks she can marry the Alpha of the Moonfrost Pack? That's pathetic!" She stalked over to me, grinding her stiletto heel into my hand.
I let out an agonized scream as cold sweat instantly covered my forehead. The excruciating pain made my entire body convulse. I tried to pull my hand away, but her wolf held me firmly in place.
Rosalind's pale foot, now sprouting red fur, pressed down harder. "This is the price you pay for killing my sister."
Through tear-filled eyes, I looked at Damian, silently begging. Please, don't let them destroy my hands. They were all I had left, my only way to survive once I got out of this hell. Without them, what kind of surgeon would I be?
But Damian remained silent. He even turned his face away, refusing to so much as glance in my direction.
"Damian..." I called out desperately.
"Shut up," Rosalind snapped, pressing harder. "If you must know, Damien was the one who suggested we come today. Besides avenging my sister, we have something more important planned."
The pain nearly shut down my brain, and I could only stare at her in confusion.
Then, her crimson lips delivered an even more brutal gut punch. "You worthless Omega, Damian has decided to break his matebond with you."
Her words pierced straight through my heart. I looked at Damian in disbelief. "Is that true?"
Breaking our matebond? Everything I knew about our sacred laws told me this was impossible.
The Moon Goddess herself chose destined mates, binding their souls for eternity. We were supposed to be faithful to each other forever!
Damian stared at me coldly, delivering the final blow. "I, Damian Whitmore, reject Seraphina Sinclair as my fated mate."
As my vision blurred, death's cold fingers seemed to reach for me.
My soul crumbled as waves of despair washed over me.
The world spun, and I felt myself slipping into an endless darkness...
