After My Mate Betrayed Me, I Escaped

My hands trembled as I finished healing the last warrior, my energy nearly depleted after eighteen consecutive sessions. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and my wolf, Lyra, whimpered with exhaustion inside me.

*Just one more, Victoria. Then we can rest.*

I nodded, both to myself and to Lyra, as I placed my palms over the deep gash on Delta Carter's shoulder. The familiar warm glow emanated from my fingertips, sealing the wound until only a faint pink line remained where the rogue's claws had torn through flesh.

"There," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "You're all set, Carter. Take it easy for the next day or so."

The young Delta nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Dr. Hayes. The pack is lucky to have you."

If only my mate felt the same way.

I dragged myself back to the quarters I shared with Marcus, my body aching for a hot shower and my bed. Eighteen warriors in one day—a new record. Surely Marcus would recognize my dedication, my sacrifice for the pack. Maybe tonight he'd finally discuss the expansion of the healing center I'd been proposing for months.

When I pushed open our door, Marcus was lounging on the leather sofa, scrolling through his phone. He looked up with that half-smile that once made my heart race but now only reminded me of broken promises.

"There's my healer," he said, setting his phone down. "I got you something."

My exhaustion momentarily lifted. A gift? After all these years of pouring everything into our healing center, was he finally acknowledging my contributions?

Marcus reached into his pocket and tossed something small onto the coffee table. It clattered against the wood—a tiny plastic toy car, the kind you'd find in a human dollar store. The cheap red paint was already chipping at the edges.

"I saw it and thought of you," he said with a chuckle. "Always saying you need more transportation for the healing center."

I stared at the toy, unable to form words as he picked up his phone again, turning it toward me with a proud grin.

"And check this out—just got Sophia her new BMW. Third one this year. The silver really suits her, don't you think?"

The photo showed Sophia posing beside a gleaming luxury car, her perfectly manicured hand resting on the hood, her smile wide and triumphant. The same Sophia who had treated exactly zero patients today. The same Sophia who was supposed to be my "apprentice" but spent more time shopping than learning.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, a nervous habit I couldn't break. "Marcus, I don't understand. I've been asking for a real transport vehicle for the healing center for years. We need it for emergency responses. And you give me... this?"

I picked up the toy car, its plastic wheels spinning uselessly between my fingers.

"It's a joke, Victoria," he said, his tone shifting to that condescending pitch I'd grown to dread. "Lighten up. The pack budget is tight right now."