My Alpha Ordered My Heart Cut Out for His Mistress Chapter 10

My Alpha Ordered My Heart Cut Out for His Mistress Chapter 10

The night air was biting, but I welcomed the freezing chill against my face. I stood alone on the grand stone balcony of the Lycan Council Hall, staring out at the sprawling, glittering lights of the city below. I had won. Paxton was gone, banished to freeze and starve in the Northern Wastelands. Chloe was buried in the suffocating dark of the prison mines. Arlo… my son was locked away behind the heavy iron doors of the Royal Reformatory, forced to finally fight the poison his father had fed him.

I should have been celebrating. I should have felt a fiery, victorious joy. Instead, the silence in

my head was deafening. The adrenaline that had kept me standing in that amphitheater was gone, leaving behind a vast, echoing hollow in my chest.

Without realizing it, my thumb found my opposite wrist. I began to rub the raised, jagged scar left by three years of silver cuffs. Back and forth. A frantic, unconscious rhythm. I was free, but my body still remembered the chains.

Heavy boots sounded on the stone behind me. The crisp, grounding scent of winter pine and rain wrapped around me before he even spoke. Forest.

He stepped up to the marble balustrade beside me. He didn’t say a word about the trial. He didn’t offer empty platitudes about how I was safe now, or how justice had been served. He just looked out at the same dark horizon I was staring at, a massive, comforting presence in the periphery of my vision.

My thumb kept rubbing the scar. Harder now. The phantom burn of silver prickled my skin, making my breathing turn shallow.

Forest reached over. His large, calloused hand covered mine. His warmth seeped into

ing skin, gently but firmly stopping my frantic movements. He didn’t intertwine our He didn’t pull me into his chest or demand anything of my broken heart. He simply ed me to the present.

ou don’t have to wear the chains anymore, Elena,” his deep voice rumbled, a steady, unwavering comfort in the dark.

I looked down at his broad hand covering my scars. He wasn’t pushing for a mate bond. He was offering a partnership. A silent promise that I didn’t have to stand on the edge alone anymore. For the first time all day, the tight knot of survival in my chest loosened. I let out a long, shaky breath, letting the quiet peace finally wash over me.

Three months later, the sun shone brightly over the grounds of what used to be the Shadow

Creek pack house.

I stood on the freshly manicured lawn, a pair of oversized golden scissors resting in my hands. Behind me stood a sprawling, beautiful estate. We had torn down the dark, oppressive walls of Paxton’s reign. We ripped the silver from the underground dungeons and filled those cursed cells with solid concrete. In their place, we built walls of glass, bright wood, and open light.

A massive, hand-carved wooden sign hung over the grand entrance: The Hamilton Sanctuary.

I looked at the crowd gathered before me. There were dozens of Omegas, battered mates, and frightened pups who had fled abusive packs across the region. They looked at me not with the terror I used to see in the Shadow Creek ranks, but with fragile, blooming hope.

My father, King Reign, stood in the front row. His golden eyes crinkled with a fierce, unmistakable pride. Beside him, Forest stood tall in his Enforcer uniform, a silent guardian watching over the perimeter.

“For the ones who were told they were nothing,” I spoke, my voice ringing clear and strong across the lawn, carrying the innate authority of my royal blood. “For the ones who were broken by the people meant to protect them. This is your safe harbor. You are never alone.”

I snipped the thick red ribbon. The crowd erupted into joyous cheers.

A profound warmth bloomed in my chest. I had taken the very soil where I was tortured, the very clinic where my heart was almost carved from my chest, and turned it into an impenetrable

fortress for the vulnerable. I wasn’t just a survivor anymore. I was their shield.

As the celebration moved indoors, the sounds of music and laughter drifting through the open windows, I slipped away from the crowd. I walked past the blooming gardens, stepping into the

e, ancient tree line that bordered the sanctuary.

est called to me.

three years, my inner wolf had been a sickly, whimpering thing, poisoned by silver and crushed by an Alpha’s cruel command. She had been terrified of the dark, hiding in the deepest recesses of my mind.

Not anymore.

I closed my eyes and let the royal blood sing in my veins. I didn’t fight the shift. I welcomed it. The transformation wasn’t a painful snap of bones; it was a fluid, explosive release of pure, unadulterated power.

I dropped to all fours, my heavy paws hitting the soft earth with a resounding thud. I opened my

eyes, and the world was sharper, vibrant with life. I looked down at my coat. There was no dull, matted gray fur. There were no bald patches from malnutrition.

I was massive. I was a towering, pristine Golden Wolf, my coat shimmering like spun sunlight in the shadows of the trees.

My muscles bunched with raw strength. I took off. I didn’t run like prey fleeing a hunter. I ran like a predator claiming her domain. The wind whipped through my fur, carrying the scent of pine, rain, and absolute freedom. I bounded over fallen logs and tore through the underbrush, my paws barely touching the ground.

I reached the peak of a high stone ridge overlooking my sanctuary. I planted my paws firmly on the rock, threw my head back, and opened my jaws. I let out a roar that shook the very leaves on the branches. It wasn’t a cry for help. It was a Queen’s howl, echoing across the territory, a promise to the world that Elena Hamilton had finally come into her power.