Betrayed for a Mistress: The True Alpha Rises

For five years, my husband Damian fed me a bitter daily "tonic," claiming it was to help my fragile health.

He told the entire pack I was a "withered wolf," too broken to shift and too barren to give him an heir.

I believed him, until the new nanny walked in wearing my silk robe, smelling of my perfume and his sweat.

Damian didn't even try to hide it.

He demanded I sign a check to support his mistress's five children, sneering that since my womb was a "graveyard," I should pay for his legacy.

He planned to humiliate me publicly at the Medical Summit, using me as a case study of failure to legitimize his illegitimate brood.

But he made a fatal mistake. He thought I was too weak to check the books.

My loyal Beta brought me the truth just hours before the speech.

The tonic wasn't medicine; it was Wolfsbane, designed to suppress my Alpha wolf.

And the infertility? It wasn't me. Medical records proved Damian had a vasectomy weeks before our wedding.

He had been poisoning me and gaslighting me for half a decade to steal my fortune.

I injected a dangerous stimulant to clear the fog and crashed his stage.

I didn't just expose his sterility to the world; I stripped him of his rank and exiled him as a Rogue.

As security dragged the screaming traitor away, a scent hit me—thunderstorms and raw, terrifying power.

Alistair Finch, the most dangerous Alpha on the coast, rose from the VIP section.

He walked straight to me, sparks flying as he touched my skin.

"He is nothing," Alistair growled, pulling me into his arms. "And you are finally Mine."

Chapter 1

Ainsley POV:

The numbers on the spreadsheet swam before my eyes, blurring into a sea of meaningless red ink. I pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to massage away the headache that had become my constant companion over the last five years.

"Just sign the transfer, Ainsley," Damian said, 'checking his reflection in the window.' "It's a simple request."

I looked up at my husband. He was handsome in a conventional way-blonde hair, blue eyes-but his jaw was soft. He lacked the rugged edge of a true Alpha, though he tried hard to fake it.

"One hundred thousand dollars is not a simple request, Damian," I said, my voice raspy. My throat always felt dry, no matter how much water I drank. "We just funded the new wing of the pack hospital. Cash flow is tight."

"It's for the household staff," he insisted, turning to face me. "Specifically, a bonus for Casey. She's been working overtime with the estate management since you've been... indisposed."

Indisposed. That was his favorite word for my condition.

For five years, ever since we married, my health had deteriorated. My inner wolf-the primal spirit that lives within every shifter-had gone silent. I couldn't shift. I couldn't heal. The pack doctors, led by Damian himself, said it was a genetic defect.