Fake Mating To My Ex's Powerful Enemy

Christina's POV

Slap!

My head snapped to the side, vision blurring, skin burning as if someone had pressed a brand into me.

I looked up to see Niall's furious eyes.

My fated mate just hit me.

Three minutes ago, I was daydreaming about redecorating this ridiculously expensive pack house. Two minutes ago, I accidentally knocked over a framed photo in his bedroom. A picture of my sister.

Now blood rushed in my ears- sharp, humiliating. Akira roared inside me, a storm of betrayal that stole my breath.

"You broke it!?" Niall spat. "This is the only picture I had with Beatrice. Your jealousy makes me sick."

"Are you fucking insane?" I gritted my teeth.

"No, you're the one who's twisted!" he roared."I already agreed to marry you, what more do you want? Beatrice left because of you! Because you forced the mate bond on me!"

The hatred in his eyes cut deeper than any slap.

"She was your sister! And now you covet what was hers? You won't stop until every trace of her is erased, will you?" He said in anger as he shoved me backward, into the coffee table.

I landed on the shattered glass. Pain lanced through my palm, and my blood smeared across Beatrice's perfect smile.

How bitterly fitting.

My cheek throbbed. My hand was bleeding. But nothing hurt more than the realization that my so-called mate had never loved me.

"It wasn't me," I said, one final attempt at reason. "I never forced this mate bond on you. I never asked her to leave."

Logically speaking, I understood why someone might blame me.

On my eighteenth birthday, I shifted and realized Niall was my fated mate.Stupidly, I wrote it all down in my diary. I planned to tell him when he returned from his business trip. If he couldn't accept me, I was prepared for rejection.

But Beatrice found my diary and made it public.

Privacy meant nothing to her. She broadcast my diary to everyone in the Crescent pack .

I was publicly shamed as the pathetic spare who dared reach above her station for her perfect sister's Alpha.

Then Beatrice graciously left for abroad, leaving behind a letter saying she'd discovered my secret and decided to let go and let him be mine.

Her generosity was as real as someone being generous with a credit card that wasn't hers.

And I was the villain who drove away The Crescent Pack's perfect princess.

To my family, I was a long-neglected player suddenly promoted to the first string-a strategic shift I was now duty-bound to appreciate. My parents didn't truly care which daughter married Niall, only that the pack alliance was sealed. Even if Niall had literally ripped my heart out, my parents would've handed him napkins to clean up.

It was as if my parents had always hated me. No matter how much I outperformed Beatrice in training, they always made excuses for her and found fault with me. I was bitter, ungrateful, someone who couldn't appreciate her dear sister.

My fingers clenched around the engagement ring. This pathetic symbol of our joke mateship.

Hot tears blurred my vision. I blinked them back fast.

I bolted for the door and got out before the tears came.

Niall grabbed my wrist to stop me. "Clean it up."

"What?"I stared him in disbelief, needing to confirm I'd heard him right.

"You broke the photo frame. Clean up the pieces." Ice-cold command.

Too bad I never was good at taking orders.

"No." I lifted my chin. Zero compromise.

His jaw clenched. "You sure you want to do this, Christina?"

"Yes. I said no." I stared him down without flinching.

If love meant grinding my self-respect into dust, then fuck love.

The air between us snapped, tension rising like a storm. He leaned in, fury blazing. "Last chance. Disobey me, and I'll end this bond right here-".

"We are over," I cut in.

Shock froze his face.

For a moment,the air went still.

He hadn't expected me to actually say it.

I yanked my arm free, breath hitching as hope for escape flared-only for him to seize me again, his grip bruising, his eyes burning with something close to hatred.

"This is on you, Christina!" Niall snarled, his tone that of a sworn enemy rather than the mate fate had chained me to.

"I, Niall Granger, Alpha of the Frostpelt Pack, reject-"

"Shut the hell up!" I snapped.

If anyone was ending this bond, it would be me.

My gaze locked onto his, unflinching.

"You don't get to reject me. I reject you, Niall. Now accept it."

The world seemed to crack in half.

Akira howled inside me, a keening wail of loss, while searing agony tore through my chest as the bond unraveled thread by thread.

His jaw tightened,but he forced the words past clenched teeth.

"I accept your rejection. Now clean up your mess and fix the damn photo."

My hands shook as I picked up the shattered frame, shards biting into my skin, my blood smearing across the glass. I tore the picture down the middle, ripping his face away from my sister's, as if severing every last tie.

Without hesitation,I swung my hand and slapped him hard across that infuriatingly handsome, arrogant face. The crack echoed between us.

I leaned in, letting him see the fire in my eyes.

"Now," I hissed, "we're done..."

The silence was absolute.

My palm stung, but oh, the satisfaction almost dulled the pain in my chest.

Niall staggered back, shock flashing in his eyes.

It wasn't from pain, but from realizing the docile girl he'd despised no longer existed.

I smiled coldly. "Goodbye, Niall. Go worship your shrine to Beatrice."

And I walked out of that suffocating hell, head high.

I would rather drown in my own tears than let him see one more drop.

When I reached the parking lot, the cold night air hit my face, but overwhelming pain crashed over me like a tidal wave.

Fuck, no one ever told me that breaking the mate bond would be this excruciating.

It felt like having my heart sliced up and served to Hannibal Lecter.He'd probably enjoy it with a nice Chianti and some fava beans.

I curled up in the driver's seat, cold sweat streaming down my face.

Akira lay weakly inside me, whimpering,"It's so fucking strange!Like someone reached into my gut and tore something out with their fist."

I couldn't agree more.

I wanted to find my mother,she would definitely know how to ease this kind of pain.

Or maybe any creature in pain instinctively thinks of their mother.

As I hesitated between sending a mind-link or making a call, my phone vibrated.

My eyes were so blurry that I fumbled to swipe and answer.

"Chrissy, you must be insane!" My mother screamed."How dare you humiliate Niall like this! The pack alliance is ruined!"

"Mom, he rejected me," I said weakly. "As in, formally. Also, he hit me. So there's that fun detail."

"He... what?" For once, she sounded stunned.

My dad's voice cut in, "Don't be dramatic. After everything Beatrice sacrificed for you? You will apologize to Niall immediately and beg him to marry you, or you're no longer welcome in our territory!"

He hung up before I could respond.

I stared at my phone in bewilderment, my father's words echoing in my head.

Not "Are you okay?" Not "We're coming to get you."

Just threats about banishing me from the pack.

Why was it that no matter how hard I tried, I still couldn't earn even a sliver of their approval? When I was rejected by my mate and dying from the pain, all my parents could think about was the pack alliance and my fucking sister who had disappeared God knows where!

Beatrice never had to do anything, yet she was their precious jewel.

So, this is it?

On the day I severed the mate bond with my fated mate, I finally realized that my parents had never loved me.

It shattered my last remaining, pathetic and pitiful longing for my parents' love.

Enough.

I was done trying to earn love that would never be given.

I was done being the convenient backup daughter.

I was taking back the self-respect I'd lost long ago, and I was breaking free of this engagement-no matter the consequences.

Christina's POV

The drive to my rarely-used apartment was a blur. The one I hadn't set foot in for months ever since Niall's mom invited me to live at their packhouse and plan the wedding. What a joke that turned out to be.

As I reached my door, I fumbled with the security pad.

Pain traveled through every inch of my body, and I gritted my teeth, refusing to faint pathetically on my doorstep.

Wrong code. Again. And again.

Frustration boiled over.

I kicked the door with my heel, a pitiful gesture that accomplished nothing except sending pain shooting up my leg.

Of course. The universe had decided today was the day for my starring role in a cosmic joke.

I slumped against the wall and slid to the floor as sobs tore from my throat.

Why did everyone always favor Beatrice?! Hadn't I suffered enough? Second place in my family, just a replacement in my own mate's heart?

Just as I was nearly choking on my own cries, a deep voice came from behind me.

"That's my door you're assaulting."

Great. Another fucking problem.

"What?" I snapped, turning to glare.

The man standing there was... devastating. Not pretty-boy handsome like Niall, but ruggedly masculine. Tall and powerfully built, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and those piercing blue-gray eyes that seemed to see right through me.

He looked like the kind of Alpha who didn't just win battles but erased his enemies from history entirely.

"If you're planning to kick it in, I'll need your insurance information first," he said flatly.

My throat went dry. "I-I'm so sorry. I thought this was my apartment."

He tilted his head, gaze unreadable. "Rough day?"

My face burned with awkwardness. Great. Rejected, injured, and now looking like a complete idiot in front of the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen.

"You could say that." I muttered, hauling myself up and attempting dignity while looking like a raccoon caught in a dumpster fire.

"Easy there, hurricane." He raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the door across the hall. "That would be yours, I believe."

Hurricane? I should've been annoyed, but the way he said it made my stomach flutter strangely.

"I know where I live."

"Could've fooled me."

"Fine," I mumbled, attempting to smooth down my wreck of a dress. "Thanks for the geography lesson."

"Need help with your door code?"

"What I need is for this day to reboot like a malfunctioning iPhone, but thanks for the offer."

I walked toward my door, feigning composure and grace. As if the crazy woman who'd just had a breakdown wasn't me at all.

While I punched in my door code, I could feel those intense eyes watching my every move.

Come on, fingers, work faster.

Beep-finally.

I glanced back. He was still watching, arms crossed.

"Sorry about your door," I muttered.

"I'll survive."

I closed my door and pressed my back against it.

Well, that was humiliating. My devastatingly handsome neighbor probably thought I was a lunatic, and honestly? He wasn't wrong.

Wait-devastatingly handsome?Fuck. I really was losing it.

I dropped onto my bed, exhausted.

Akira was barely alive inside me, hurt by rejection, her once-sharp senses now dulled.

"We'll heal," I whispered to her.

No response.Great. Even my own wolf was giving me the silent treatment.

I don't know when I started losing myself for him. Maybe it was the first time he looked at me like I wasn't enough.

I bleached my hair until my scalp burned raw because he called me boring with "mousy brown hair." I shoved my feet into heels that carved blisters into my skin, only for him to sneer, "Why are you walking like a newborn giraffe? Beatrice could run in heels."

I dragged myself into the kitchen before dawn, cooking meals I never ate, ironing shirts that weren't mine. When the pack humiliated me, he didn't protect me. He only reminded me I should be grateful to "make do."

I realize now-he never truly saw me as his mate. His one and only. I was his project. His servant. A placeholder until he found what he truly wanted.

For four long years, I stayed.

The weight of that truth crushed me. My chest ached with every breath. How pathetic, that I poured everything into a man who never even tried to know me.

My exhausted heart needed rest. I curled into the wet pillow and let the darkness take me.

Two days slipped away before I woke again.

I called gently to Akira, "Are you okay, Akira? Can you hear me?"

Akira stirred weakly in my mind, "Chrissy, I feel off. I can't smell anything anymore."

I froze, trying to catch any scent. Nothing.

"Maybe it's just temporary from all the pain," I said to Akira, not knowing if I was comforting her or myself. "It might come back later."

Her tail drooped listlessly in my mind. Not being able to smell meant she couldn't identify potential mates-a devastating loss for any wolf. But there was nothing we could do about it right now.

I let her rest and checked my messages.

Oddly, my parents hadn't bombarded me with mind-links or calls since their initial outburst.This engagement had been their golden ticket to an alliance with The Frostpelt Pack. A marriage alliance with one of the North's top three packs wasn't something they'd abandon easily.Neither of us daughters could inherit leadership of The Crescent Pack, but marrying a powerful Alpha?That ensured our pack's future prosperity.

Suspicious.

Part of me wondered if Niall had said something to keep them at bay. Maybe even felt guilty? Unlikely. More probably planning his next move.

The doorbell shattered my pity party. And it didn't stop ringing.

For five minutes.

I groaned. Horrible social interaction.

Dragging my carcass to the door, I pulled it open.

Ysolde Carlisle, who was my best friend and the only person with legal rights to yell at me, stood there with narrowed eyes and two bags of takeout. Then her gaze landed on my face.

"What the hell happened to you? For real?"

"I'm giving my face a remodel-symmetry was getting stale," I said with a lazy shrug, even though every muscle in my face ached.

She wasn't buying that crap for a second.

She reached out, tilting my chin gently to inspect the split skin on my cheek.

"Who laid hands on you?"

"C'mon inside," I muttered, hurrying her along-didn't need the whole block gossiping about my beat-up face.

The door slammed shut, and I collapsed into her arms, all the fight draining out of me.

Eventually, one word fell out, quiet and broken.

"Niall."

Ysolde froze solid.

"No fucking way," she hissed. "Niall? Your mate Niall? The poster child for diplomatic perfect behavior?"

I nodded, my eyes burning.

"Tell me everything. Not a single detail left out."

So I did. Beatrice's photo. The slap. The formal rejection.

By the time I finished, Ysolde looked ready to commit murder.

"That bastard," she hissed. "And over what? Your psycho sister who isn't even here? I swear to Goddess, Chrissy, Beatrice could be on another continent and she'd still find a way to ruin your life."

"Maybe it's for the best. At least I found out what kind of mate he really is before we got married."

My stomach growled loudly.

Ysolde raised an eyebrow and lifted the takeout bags."Good thing I came prepared."

Between bites, I frowned. "Don't you think it's weird my parents haven't called? They wanted this wedding so badly, but now... nothing."

Ysolde shrugged."Maybe they're plotting. Your father isn't the type to give up his plan easily."

After dinner, Ysolde pushed me into the bathroom to shower while she cleaned up.

I stood under the hot water, trying to wash away four years of delusion.

Through the bathroom door, I heard her on the phone. I caught bits and pieces.

"Complete asshole."

"What a dick."

"You won't believe what he did to her-"

She was probably talking to Zane Carlisle,her brother.Unlike Niall,Zane treated women with respect.

The way Ysolde so instantly,so fiercely chose my side made my throat tight.She believed me without hesitation.When everyone else would side with Niall, she'd declared war on my behalf.

This wasn't something small.Going against Niall's pack could create serious problems for her family's small pack.

I wrapped myself in a towel and sighed.

Why couldn't my parents love me like that?

Suddenly,I was hit by waves of excruciating pain,each one stabbing through my abdomen. Each surge burned through my neck where Niall's mark still lingered.

I collapsed on the bathroom floor with a scream.

Ysolde burst through the door.

"Chrissy! What happened?"

I could barely form words. "Pain... killer... please..."

Ysolde helped me up and rushed out to get medication.

I clutched my stomach, biting my lip to keep from screaming again. This was different from rejection pain.

Akira howled in anguish inside me.

"It's mate betrayal," she whispered weakly.

"What? But I already rejected him-"

"The mark on your neck hasn't fully faded," Akira explained through our pain.

Seriously? He rejected me and immediately ran off to fuck someone else? Couldn't even wait for our bond to completely break before shoving his dick into another woman?

Ysolde returned with painkillers and water.

After I swallowed them and the worst waves subsided, she sat beside me, fury blazing in her eyes.

"That bastard," she snarled.

I nodded weakly.

"You know what?" Ysolde stood up. "Fuck him. You shouldn't have to suffer alone through this pain, he needs to get a taste of his own medicine."

I stared at her in confusion.

"Get dressed," she commanded. "Niall's dick isn't the diamond, and it sure as hell isn't worth mourning. We're going out to find you someone who doesn't need his ex's photo to get it up."

I blinked. "I've been rejected and your solution is... clubbing?"

She threw clothes at my face."My solution is reminding you that you're Christina fucking Vance, and one Alpha's rejection doesn't break you."

I stared at her. Every part of me wanted to crawl back into bed and disappear. But lying here wallowing while Niall was probably celebrating with someone else?

Fuck that!

"Fine," I said, dragging myself up."But if I collapse on the dance floor,you're carrying me home."

Ysolde grinned wickedly. "Trust me, you won't need rescuing tonight."

Christina's POV

"Don't you think I look like a hooker? Do I really have to wear this?" I said, tugging at my extremely short skirt that would show my panties if I so much as sneezed.

"Sweetheart, it's not vulgar-it's daring sexy," Ysolde said, dressed like a mafia queen and standing tall against the icy wind in her five-inch heels. "Plus, don't cheapen yourself like that."

"But isn't this a little too-" I didn't even finish before a brutal gust of wind slapped me across the face. I immediately wrapped my sinful fur coat tighter around myself and curled up like a frozen prawn.

Ysolde let out a groan."Chrissy, come on. We're going to Highrise City's most exclusive pack club, not an Arctic expedition."

"I'm just glad I won't be hospitalized for hypothermia tonight, thanks," I snapped back.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you already have a fur coat? You know, the one that comes naturally?" she said, clearly questioning why a werewolf was complaining about the cold.

I bit back, "Because I'm in human form right now!"

I'd thought we'd have to wait in line like everyone else. That was the whole reason I wore this fur coat. But clearly, I had underestimated Ysolde.

She had no intention of following the rules.

With the ease of someone who'd done this a thousand times, she slipped a rolled-up bill into the bouncer's hand, her palm casually grazing his rock-hard chest like a Bond girl who'd forgotten her martini.

Ten seconds. That was all it took. We were in.

Ysolde was the kind of beautiful that made men forget their names and girlfriends in two seconds.

We sailed into Luna's Eclipse. It was the most exclusive club in Highrise City where rich werewolves played politics over overpriced drinks.

The place was thick with heat, perfume, and the effervescent scent of champagne.

I ripped off my coat the second we stepped inside, only to be met with a glare from Ysolde that said it all: Are you trying to humiliate me?

She handed her coat off to a passing server with a flick of her fingers, like she'd personally hired the man.

I tried to copy her moves. Failed miserably. Nearly dropped my purse.

"Moon Goddess!" I gasped, eyes glued to the menu like it was robbing my credit card.

Ysolde gave me a sideways glance and scoffed. "Wait, Niall never spent money on you? What a cheapskate."

"Relax. Tonight's on me."

I breathed a sigh of relief.Considering I'd been rejected by my mate, had my wedding canceled, and my parents were planning to banish me from the territory to become a rogue, I needed a fortune to buy scent-masking spray to prevent Niall from hiring someone to kill me.

Price tags aside,the view was elite-rising young Gammas, handsome future Alphas, and a swarm of finance bros who looked like they gave TED talks on dominating Wall Street in custom suits.

Honestly, it was a room full of show-offs and wannabe flirts, all hiding under the dim lighting.

We found a table near the bar and a bartender locked eyes on us.

Well. He was hard to miss-tall, sculpted features, sleeves rolled to the elbows just enough to show off well-trained forearms.

He shouldn't be mixing drinks. He should be shooting Dior fragrance ads or modeling sexy men's underwear. Or at the very least starring on the shifter romance novel cover.

Maybe that's why this club was so expensive,even the staff had to be perfect.

"Two 75s, whiskey," Ysolde ordered before I could even find the cheapest drink on the menu. "Make it strong."

And of course, she didn't forget to show her perfect smile,chin tilted just enough to say "Oops, didn't mean to flirt."

The bartender reached effortlessly for the gin. "Rough night?"

"More like a rejection-level disaster," she said, casually pointing her thumb at me. "And it's wrapping up real soon."

I glanced at her. "Thrilled that my personal life is now public broadcast."

She patted my hand."Sweetie, this place runs on romantic catastrophes. Without bad decisions, no one would be buying drinks."

Then she turned away and melted into the crowd, flipping into Social Queen Mode like someone had hit a switch.

In under ten seconds, she completed a visual sweep before spinning back around and pointing toward the edge of the dance floor.

"Okay, listen. You need a rebound. Target A: Six-foot-two Manhattan finance bro, suit worth more than your monthly rent, haircut that speaks 'my therapist costs more than your car.' He'll wine and dine you, then ghost you for his stock portfolio."

I shook my head. "Nope."

Her eyes flicked to a new direction. "Target B: tortured Parisian artist type. Looks like he subsists entirely on cigarettes and existential dread. He'll write poetry about your eyes, then ask to 'borrow' money for art supplies that somehow always end up being weed and takeout.'"

"Pass."

She sighed, then pointed again."Fine. Target C: sensitive musician with a 'promising EP dropping next month.' Translation,you'll be supporting him financially while he finds himself through his craft for the next decade."

I groaned into my hands. "Ysolde, please."

She didn't back down. "Chrissy, you cannot sit here like a decorative wall gecko. Tonight is about rebooting your life, not stitching up emotional wounds."

Just as she geared up for a fourth round of rebound recommendations, she suddenly froze. It was like someone had hit mute on her entire system.

Then, far too casually, she said, "Hey, want to hit the bathroom?"

I narrowed my eyes. "No?"

"...Or maybe let's move tables? The vibe here's weird." Her smile was tight.

Weird vibe? We'd only been sitting for ten minutes, and we just ordered drinks.By Ysolde's standards, we were barely warming up.

Then I followed her gaze.

A half-private booth.

Niall.

He had his arm draped around a woman. Her head rested on his shoulder, makeup flawless, smile polished and effortless.

But that wasn't the worst part.

They were kissing. Deep, hungry kisses.

The woman was perched on his lap, her dress riding up, their hands roaming each other's bodies as if they were seconds away from tearing each other's clothes off right there in the club.

My stomach lurched. The sight was revolting, obscene.

I didn't need more details about who she was.

That face, I would never forget it.

Four years ago, the woman generously "gifted" me her boyfriend as my fated mate, left a heartfelt letter, and disappeared overseas.Now here she was, brazenly draped across my mate's lap, turning the whole club into their personal cheating stage.

I had told myself I was over it. We'd broken up. It was done. Time to move on.

Until I heard what came next.

"Honestly, I didn't think she'd completely break down over a picture frame." Beatrice's voice dripped false pity as she pulled away from their kiss.

"I put that photo where she'd see it. She still doesn't know about your 'business trips' to Europe for me. Time she got a hint, don't you think?"

She looked up at Niall adoringly. "Darling, your performance was perfect. Even I almost believed you cared about the photo instead of covering our affair."

Niall chuckled. "I had to act upset. She spends every day trying to be perfect for me. If she knew all her effort still couldn't compete with you, she'd completely lose it."

Beatrice laughed softly, patting his chest. "Don't worry. Knowing Chrissy, she's probably still trying to fix things. She always believes if she just tries hard enough, people will see her worth."

"The harder she tries, the more pathetic she looks." Beatrice smiled. "And I just 'happened' to return home. My parents don't know anything. She ended things herself, so you're blameless."

Niall nodded. "I talked to your parents. The wedding's still on-just a change of bride."

Beatrice smiled triumphantly. "Perfect ending, right? I never gave up on you. Just waited for her to step aside."

She leaned closer. "You know how she tried copying everything about me? The bleached hair, the style changes, even how she talks? God, it was hilarious watching her pathetic attempts."

Niall snorted. "Like a discount knockoff."

"Though I thought fated mates were supposed to be deeply in love?" Beatrice's voice turned curious. "Aren't you two supposed to be...?"

Niall's face darkened.

My hands shook so badly I could barely hold my drink. The pieces were falling into place, and Akira whimpered inside me.

"He's been cheating long before the rejection," she whispered weakly. "That's why we're in such agony."

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. When there's infidelity after being marked, intimacy with another outside the mateship causes extreme pain to the partner. But distance can mask immediate betrayal pain,it festers in the bond instead.

All those "business trips" abroad. All those times he visited Beatrice. The mate bond had been slowly deteriorating, accumulating damage we couldn't feel because of the distance.

When Niall rejected me, that rejection pain combined with months of accumulated betrayal trauma. It was destroying us both.

No wonder I felt like I was dying. I wasn't just dealing with rejection.

I was dealing with months of hidden betrayal finally surfacing all at once.

Beatrice noticed Niall's dark expression and quickly backpedaled. "I'm just teasing, silly. I know I'm the only one in your heart."

The words stung like humiliation dressed up as banter. It was the kind of punchline you'd expect at a comedy club, not from your sister and your mate. Funny, isn't it? How the people who know you best are the ones who can cut the deepest.

Akira stirred inside me, her growl low and hungry for payback.

Ysolde was pleading with me to stay calm, to not do anything stupid. But her voice was nothing but background noise.

I wasn't the same Christina who swallowed her pride for praise anymore.

I slipped free from Ysolde's grip and turned to the bartender."Your best champagne. Put it on Niall Granger's tab."

The bartender handed me the bottle.

With the bottle in hand, I strode straight toward Niall and Beatric-their embrace so tangled, so theatrical, it looked like a scene from a midday drama.

I raised the bottle and smashed it, with all my strength.

The glass shattered with a sharp crack. Niall's forehead split instantly, a thin line of blood tracing down between his brows.