Alpha's Fatal Regret: The Mate He Blinded

Evelyn's POV

The heavy iron door of the Ice Crypt slammed shut behind me.

I'm Evelyn Vance. Three years ago, I was the proud Luna of the Blackwood Pack. Today, I'm just a low-ranking Omega with a jagged, burned-out mate mark on my neck.

"No one here to pick you up, Evelyn?"

Knox, the guard, leaned out of the sentry post. His yellow wolf eyes swept over the empty, snow-covered mountain path.

I tightened my grip on the canvas bag in my hand. Inside was everything I owned: two sets of threadbare clothes and a piece of faded fur.

"Someone will come," I said, my voice raspy and raw.

Knox let out a harsh laugh and flicked two rusted coins into the snow at my feet. "Take it, spent-wolf. Go find a cellar at the edge of the territory. It's a frost night."

I stood in the blizzard for three hours. No carriage. No patrol.

Of course no one was coming.

Three years ago at the Pack Altar, Alpha Valen released his suffocating Supreme Alpha aura and delivered the execution statement in front of the entire pack:

“I, Valen Blackwood, Supreme Alpha of the Blackwood Pack, hereby reject you, Evelyn Vance, as my Mate and my Luna!”

He then pressed the branding iron directly onto my neck, burning away the sacred bond mark granted by the Moon Goddess and leaving behind a hideous, blackened scar. The pain of the broken bond nearly drove me insane.

My fingers, numb from the cold, reached into my coat to touch the faded fur. It was the swaddling blanket from when my daughter, Nyra, was born. It still held a faint trace of her pup scent.

A single tear fell onto the fur, freezing instantly.

Don't cry, Evelyn, I told myself, wiping my face roughly. Nyra is waiting for you.

Nyra was four now. Stripped of the Blackwood name, she had survived alone at the edge of the pack lands while I was locked away.

I tucked the blanket close to my chest. In a world ruled by bloodlines and raw power, tears meant nothing.

Inside the Blackwood Pack House, the air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and mulled wine. The alpha warriors' laughter echoed through the hall.

"Table seventeen needs more wine! Move your ass, omega!" the pack handler barked, snapping a whip near my heels.

I kept my head down and swallowed my pride. "Right away, sir."

I carried the heavy bronze tray through the crowded hall. After being publicly rejected by the Alpha and stripped of my wolf, no one in the pack would hire me. Working as a banquet server for one silver coin a day was the only job I could get.

I needed 100 Moon Sovereigns to pay the pack nursery and claim my daughter.

Two days ago, I walked through the snow to the lower nursery. The old witch doctor blocked the door with a cold glare. "Unless you bring 100 gold coins to prove you can support a pup, the half-breed stays in the cellar."

Through the iron bars, I saw four-year-old Nyra curled up in a damp corner, small and frail. She sobbed softly to the guard, "When is Mommy coming for me?"

My heart tore apart. One hundred gold coins stood like a mountain between me and my child.

Distracted, I bumped straight into a high-ranking wolf dressed in fine silk. Wine spilled across her gown.

"You clumsy beast!" the woman screeched. "This is imported silk!"

I dropped to my knees immediately, wiping the floor. "I'm so sorry, my lady!"

The woman grabbed my hair, forcing my face up. The moment her eyes landed on the branded scar on my neck, her rage turned into malicious delight.

"Well, well. Look who it is," she announced loudly, turning the whole room quiet. "If it isn't our high-and-mighty former Luna, Evelyn Vance!"

It was Freya—the loyal lapdog of Caelia, the candidate for the new Luna position.

Whispers flooded the hall.

"She's out of the Ice Crypt?"

"The former White Wolf, wiping boots like a stray."

"She's lucky the Alpha didn't throw her to the rogue pit three years ago."

Freya stepped closer, her boot resting inches from my hand. "Three years in the cold. Learned how to bow yet, Evelyn?"

The heavy oak doors opened, and a soft, fragile voice broke through the noise. "Freya? What's going on?"

My blood ran cold.

Caelia.

The crowd parted. Caelia walked in wearing a white fox fur coat and a dark veil, supported by two guards.

Freya rushed over. "Caelia! You won't believe it—it's Evelyn! The venomous bitch who blinded you!"

Caelia gasped, her body trembling. "Evelyn... is that you? When were you released? Why didn't you come back to the Pack House?"

Looking at her hypocritical face, I let out a dry laugh. "Come back? To watch you put on another performance?"

"Shut your mouth!" Freya snapped. "If Caelia hadn't begged the Alpha three years ago, you would have rotted in that silver cell!"

I remembered that snowy night three years ago. Before Caelia plunged the wolfsbane-coated silver dagger into her own eyes, she had whispered in my ear with that exact same sweet voice: “Even if you're his true mate, Valen will burn that mark off you himself.”

"How touching," I said, glaring at Caelia through her veil. "The monster who poisoned herself to frame me is now playing the saint."

"Evelyn..." Caelia took a weak step forward, reaching out a trembling hand. "I know you hate me for losing my sight, but the past—"

"Don't touch me!" I shoved her hand away.

I barely used any force, but Caelia instantly lost her balance. She let out a sharp cry and collapsed onto the slick marble floor, her bone cane clattering away.

"Ah! My eyes... it hurts..." she whimpered, clutching her face.

"Caelia!"

A roar echoed through the hall, accompanied by the crushing, suffocating pressure of a Supreme Alpha aura.

A tall, dark figure blurred past the crowd.

Valen dropped to one knee, pulling Caelia into his arms. Then he raised his crimson-glowing wolf eyes and locked onto me.

Alpha Valen.

"Evelyn Vance," he growled, his voice laced with deadly frost. "Three years, and you haven't changed a bit."