Healer Mate Sent Me to Mental Institution

Everyone in the pack knows Marcus has loved me for a decade—that I'm his destined mate.

He's devastatingly handsome and brilliant, the youngest and most gifted pack healer we've ever had, with she-wolves practically throwing themselves at his feet. Yet this alpha prince has eyes only for me.

But when I was nearly assaulted by a rapist, Marcus signed a settlement agreement on my behalf and issued a psychiatric diagnosis, condemning me to a mental institution.

Inside the institution, I was attacked by the truly insane—they tore at my hair with clawed fingers and kicked my stomach until I couldn't breathe. Meanwhile, he held the rapist's sister Victoria close and told me: "Emma, I'll take care of you. I'll compensate you when you get out, but Victoria has severe depression. She can't handle her brother getting in trouble."

Even more ridiculous—when I begged him to let me see my suicidal sister one last time, he was honeymooning with that woman in Iceland, hanging up on my eighty-nine calls.

The day my sister died, I coughed up blood in that mental hospital.

Three years later, he came to get me, saying he still wanted to bring me home as his mate.

Looking at his careful demeanor, I suddenly laughed.

Marcus, do you know?

No matter how high the mental hospital walls are, they can't stop someone who's crawled back from hell for revenge.

What you owe me, what you owe my sister—I'll collect it all with interest, using what you care about most.

I never imagined that my chief healer mate, whom I'd loved for ten years, would personally send me to a mental institution for one of his female patients.

"Emma, you're only staying in the mental hospital for three years. Let this matter end here!"

Marcus spoke carelessly, as casually as suggesting we go to Romano's Restaurant tomorrow.

Just the night before, Marcus had tenderly kissed my forehead, planning our Christmas trip to Iceland.

But now, he was personally sending me to a mental hospital.

I stared in disbelief at this familiar yet strange man, stumbling as I grabbed the corner of his coat, my voice hoarse: "Why? You know perfectly well I have no mental illness, and I never seduced him. He tried to rape me—I was just defending myself!"

Marcus pulled his coat from my desperate grip, his words plunging me into an arctic wasteland: "Emma, that man is Victoria's brother. I promised her I'd protect her for life, including her family."

"Besides, you nearly drove her to suicide with your selfishness before. Her brother was just trying to get revenge on you. After this incident, you'll be even."

Victoria is Marcus's patient. A she-wolf who had called him frantically at 3 AM one night, and I had answered his phone.

The next day, Victoria slit her wrists in a suicide attempt.

Marcus blamed me for this, convinced that I had said something on the phone to trigger Victoria's suicide.

...

I lifted my head, staring intently