Rejected Mate's Vengeful Rise

During our vacation in the Mediterranean, Enoch Robertson, the future Alpha of the Silver Crescent Pack, received a selfie from Charlotte Perry, the Beta of the Crimson Fang Pack. In the photo, Charlotte posed in a bikini, asking Enoch to bring one back for her. Furious, I confronted him, calling her shameless and devoid of decency.

Later that afternoon, a video of me showering went viral across the pack’s private networks. My heart raced as I grabbed my phone and rushed to find Enoch. I found him standing by the bathroom door with his Gamma, Hector Reynolds, and a few other pack members. Their voices carried, and I froze, listening.

“Alpha Enoch, you’re really going all out this time,” Hector said with a laugh. “The pictures you shared in the group before were nothing compared to this.”

“But aren’t you worried Sage might reject you when she finds out?” another pack member asked. “Even though the video only shows a side profile, anyone who knows her will recognize it’s her.”

Enoch’s voice was cold and dismissive. “She’s an Omega. She’s obsessed with me. She’s threatened to reject me ninety-nine times, and each time she’s begged me to take her back. Now that she’s exposed to the pack, she’ll cling to me even more.”

His words cut deeper than any claw. He continued, “Besides, she had it coming. Charlotte just asked me to buy her a bikini, and Sage called her shameless. Charlotte is my true mate—sweet, loyal, and everything Sage isn’t. It’s about time Sage learned her place.”

I pressed my lips together, my body trembling uncontrollably. Throughout our three-year relationship, everyone in the pack had warned me to stay away from Enoch. They said he’d never leave Charlotte, the Beta he’d been devoted to for four years. But I’d ignored them, blinded by his charm and the way he’d once made me feel special.

When I was about to give up, Enoch had confessed his feelings, becoming the perfect mate. He’d always put me first, preparing comforting meals when I was unwell and taking me out to try new dishes he discovered. During intimate moments, he’d whisper that he loved me, his voice so sincere I’d believed him. He’d even insisted on taking pictures and videos, claiming they made him feel closer to me. After his relentless pleading and promises of privacy, I’d reluctantly agreed.

I never imagined that on the first day of our Mediterranean trip, I’d pick up Enoch’s phone to order food and see a message alert from someone named “Char Char.” I opened it and found a picture of Charlotte in a bikini, along with a voice message.

“Enoch, I just got home and heard you’re in the Mediterranean. The bikinis there are supposed to be amazing. Could you get me another one?”

Seeing Enoch’s nickname for her, my discomfort grew. I replied curtly, “Beta Charlotte, Enoch is my mate. Sending revealing photos at night is disgraceful.”

After a long pause, a tearful voice message