My Alpha Ordered My Heart Cut Out for His Mistress Chapter 09

My Alpha Ordered My Heart Cut Out for His Mistress Chapter 09

The heavy metallic scent of Paxton’s blood mingled with the sharp tang of his terror. He remained curled on the polished marble floor, a pathetic, broken shadow of the Alpha who had

tormented me for years.

My father, King Reign, gave a curt nod.

A dozen Royal Guards, clad in terrifying silver and black armor, marched onto the Council floor. They didn’t hesitate. Two guards hauled Paxton up by his armpits. He was dead weight, his feet dragging limply beneath him.

“Don’t touch me!” Chloe shrieked from her wheelchair. Her fragile, dying martyr act evaporated instantly. She clawed at the guards approaching her, her voice a shrill, grating sound that echoed against the vaulted ceilings. “I’m sick! I’m the Luna! Paxton, do something!”

But Paxton didn’t even look at her. The toxic bond that had fueled their delusions was dead, and

so was his spirit.

Suddenly, a blur of motion broke from the front row.

“Mom!”

The word tore through the heavy silence, raw and desperate. Arlo. My son. He scrambled past the line of guards, his polished dress shoes slipping wildly on the slick marble. He crashed hard

onto his knees at the base of the obsidian pedestal, right at my feet.

He reached out, his trembling hands desperately grabbing at the spun gold hem of my midnight silk gown.

“Mom, please!” Arlo sobbed. His young face was red and streaked with tears, his arrogant Alpha pride completely shattered. “I didn’t know! They tricked me! Dad lied to me, Chloe lied to me! Please, Mom, I’m so sorry!”

I looked down at the boy weeping at my feet. My inner wolf whined, a pathetic, agonizingly maternal sound. This was my pup. The baby I had carried, the toddler I had sung to sleep. A phantom pain violently twisted in my chest, begging me to drop to my knees and pull him into my arms. My hands actually twitched, yearning to smooth his messy hair.

But then, the sterile smell of wolfsbane invaded my memory. I remembered the cold silver tools on the clinic tray. I remembered lying paralyzed on that operating table, waiting to be carved open. I remembered Arlo standing over me, his eyes full of disgust as he spit on me and called Chloe his mother.

! locked my jaw. I took a deliberate step backward.

The silk slipped from his fingers.

Arlo froze, his hands empty in the air. He looked up at me with wide, terrified eyes. “Mom?” he whispered, his voice trembling like a frightened child lost in the dark.

“You were a child, but you chose cruelty,” I said. My voice was eerily steady, though my heart fractured a little more with every syllable. “You looked at me on that table, and you chose to let me die. I cannot be your mother today.”

Arlo let out a guttural, wounded cry. He lunged forward again, but Forest stepped between us,

his massive frame an immovable wall.

“Take him to the Royal Reformatory,” I ordered the guards, forcing myself to look past my weeping son. “Intensive deprogramming. He doesn’t leave until the rot his father put in his head is gone.”

“No! Mom! Don’t leave me! Please!” Arlo wailed as two guards hoisted him to his feet. He thrashed and kicked, fighting with everything he had, his eyes locked on mine. I turned my face away, staring blankly at the stone wall as his screams faded down the long corridor.

When the hall was finally quiet again, King Reign stepped forward. The air crackled with the sheer magnitude of his ancient power. He looked down at the remnants of my abusers with absolute disgust.

“Paxton Meyer,” my father’s voice rumbled like a coming storm. Paxton weakly lifted his head,

his eyes vacant. “You are stripped of your Alpha rank. You are stripped of your pack. You are hereby branded a Rogue and permanently exiled to the Northern Wastelands.”

s rippled through the tiered gallery. The Wastelands in the dead of winter were a frozen

For a lone, aura-less wolf, it was an absolute death sentence.

As for you, Chloe Russell,” the King continued, shifting his glowing golden eyes to the trembling

woman in the wheelchair. “For medical fraud, conspiracy to murder a Royal Lycan, and high

treason, you are sentenced to the deep prison mines. You will dig in the dark until your dying wolf finally gives out.”

“No!” Chloe screamed, hyperventilating as the guards seized the handles of her chair. “I’m too weak! I’ll die down there! Paxton, save me!”

They were dragged away. Paxton didn’t fight. He just let his feet drag across the floor, leaving a faint trail of blood in his wake. Chloe thrashed and wailed, her cries bouncing off the marble

until the heavy oak doors of the Grand Council Hall slammed shut behind them.

The deafening boom echoed, then faded into absolute silence.

I stood on the dais, flanked by the High Enforcer and the Lycan King. I had spent three years in a

silver dungeon dreaming of this exact moment. I thought I would feel triumphant. I thought I would feel an overwhelming, victorious joy.

Instead, as the golden fire in my veins settled into a steady, peaceful hum, I just felt hollow. The ghosts of my past were gone. The chains were broken. I took a deep breath of the cold, clean air, letting the quiet peace wash over me. It was finally over.