After My Alpha Tortured Me, I Learned the Truth About His Lies

The scent of blood and antiseptic filled my nostrils as I dragged Oliver's unconscious body across the threshold of Blood Moon Pack territory. My muscles screamed in protest, but I couldn't stop. Wouldn't stop. Not when his life hung by a thread.

"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking as I spotted the packhouse in the distance. "Just hold on a little longer."

Oliver's breathing grew more labored with each step. The rogue attack had left him barely clinging to life—three deep gashes across his chest, a punctured lung, and a broken leg. He'd saved me from those rogues, and now I'd do anything to save him.

The pack healer. That was my only hope.

I shifted Oliver's weight, adjusting my grip as I approached the medical building. The scent of medicinal herbs grew stronger, mingling with the metallic tang of blood.

"Help!" I called out, my voice echoing through the empty hallway. "Please, I need the healer!"

A tall figure appeared in the doorway, his silver-streaked hair pulled back neatly, his expression guarded. "Who are you? And why are you bringing an outsider into our territory?"

"Please," I begged, lowering Oliver to the floor. "He's dying. I'll do anything."

The man—Marcus Stone, I realized, the pack healer—knelt beside Oliver, his hands moving expertly over the wounds. His eyes widened slightly. "These are deep. He needs immediate attention."

"Then help him!" I pleaded.

Before Marcus could respond, a commanding presence filled the room. The air seemed to thicken, pressing against my skin with an almost physical weight.

"I don't recall inviting outsiders into my territory."

I turned slowly, my heart stuttering in my chest as I came face to face with him. Jacob. The boy I'd once loved, now a man—and an Alpha. His dark eyes narrowed as they met mine, recognition flickering across his features before hardening into something cold and hateful.

"Jacob," I whispered, his name falling from my lips like a prayer.

His nostrils flared slightly, and I knew he was catching my scent. The mate bond—that invisible thread that had always connected us—pulled taut between us.

"You're my mate," he stated flatly, no emotion in his voice. "How... convenient."

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "I need your help. Please. Oliver saved my life, and now he needs yours."

Jacob circled me slowly, his Alpha aura pressing down on me like a physical weight. "And what could I possibly gain from helping you?"

"Anything," I whispered, desperation clawing at my throat. "I'll do anything."

His lips curved into a smile that never reached his eyes. "Anything?"

I nodded, my heart sinking as understanding dawned. "Yes."

"Then submit to me," Jacob said, his voice dropping lower. "Accept my mark, my claim. Become mine."

The implications hung heavy in the air between us. This wasn't about love or fate or the Moon Goddess's blessing. This was about revenge.

"Jacob, please," I tried once more, tears stinging my eyes.

"Those are my terms," he cut me off.