Leave that ruthless Alpha Novel Cover

Leave that ruthless Alpha

8.1 / 10.0
Elara faces a devastating betrayal when her mate, the cold Alpha Silas, rejects her for a high-status rival. Cast out and broken, she flees the pack to escape his cruelty. However, destiny takes a turn when she discovers a hidden power within her bloodline. As Silas realizes the gravity of his mistake and attempts to reclaim her, Elara must decide if she can ever forgive his ruthlessness or if she will forge a future entirely on her own terms.
Leave that ruthless Alpha Summary
Elara faces a devastating betrayal when her mate, the cold Alpha Silas, rejects her for a high-status rival. Cast out and broken, she flees the pack to escape his cruelty. However, destiny takes a turn when she discovers a hidden power within her bloodline. As Silas realizes the gravity of his mistake and attempts to reclaim her, Elara must decide if she can ever forgive his ruthlessness or if she will forge a future entirely on her own terms.
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Leave that ruthless Alpha Chapter 1

The anesthesia slid into my veins like ice water. My muscles went slack, pinning me to the cold steel of the operating table.

I had just survived a massacre. My blood still coated the forest floor outside the Nightveil Pack borders. I tore the throats out of three rogue wolves to protect my home. To protect Alpha Anson.

Now, I couldn't even twitch my fingers.

But my mind remained sharp. The drugs paralyzed my body, not my hearing. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor echoed in the sterile room.

"Are you absolutely certain the nerves are severed?" Anson asked.

His voice drifted from the corner of the surgical suite. It sounded level. Calm.

"I followed your instructions, Alpha," Dr. Miller replied.

"No chance of recovery?"

"The damage is permanent," the doctor said. "But I must ask you again—are you truly going through with this?"

"Do it."

"She fought for this pack today," Dr. Miller argued. "She nearly died defending your borders. Crippling her... it’s a permanent mutilation."

"I will provide for her," Anson stated.

His tone held no warmth. No grief.

"If she needs a wheelchair, I will push it myself," he continued. "But if she walks out of this hospital whole, she will slaughter everyone at the Luna ceremony. I cannot allow her to disrupt it."

"This is just about making Diana your mate. Why must you destroy Wendy in the process?"

A tear slipped from the corner of my eye, tracking hotly into my hairline.

Diana.

"Wendy is too proud," Anson said.

"She has earned her pride. She has been by your side for five years. She built this pack's defenses."

"And now she will enjoy the safety of those defenses from the comfort of the Pack House," Anson countered.

"The elders will ask questions."

"Tell them the rogue's bite infected the bone," Anson instructed. "Tell them you had to sever the nerves to save her life. You are the chief medical officer. They will believe you."

"And if she seeks a second opinion?"

"She trusts me. She won't look further than what I tell her."

"If she is broken, she will finally accept she is unfit to carry an heir," Anson added. "That paves the way."

"For what?" Dr. Miller demanded.

"So I can bring Judy into the Pack House. My daughter with Diana needs a proper home."

The monitor continued to beep steadily, masking the silent shattering of my heart.

He planned this. While I bled for his pack, he plotted to break my legs so he could move his mistress and their bastard pup into my home.

"You are playing a dangerous game, Alpha," the doctor warned.

"Just finish the procedure. Keep her asleep."

Darkness finally pulled me under.

***

Harsh fluorescent lights burned through my eyelids.

"Wendy? Sweetheart, open your eyes."

I blinked. Anson hovered over the bed. He wore a clean shirt, his hair perfectly styled. Not a drop of my blood remained on him.

"You're awake," he murmured.

"Water," I rasped.

He held a plastic cup to my lips. I drank, letting the cool liquid soothe my dry throat.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"You saved the southern border," he added before I could answer.

"Did we lose anyone?" I asked.

"Only a few sentinels. You took down the rogue leader."

"He was fast," I said. "He caught my leg."

I shifted my upper body and forced panic into my voice. I grabbed the thin hospital blanket.

"Anson, I can't feel my right leg."

He lowered his gaze. He took my hand and squeezed it hard.

"The rogues did a lot of damage, Wendy."

"What are you saying?"

"The doctor... he said you might never walk again."

I stared at him. The mask of sorrow on his face was flawless. His brow furrowed, his eyes shining with unshed tears. If I hadn't heard him in the operating room, I would have believed every second of this performance.

"Never walk?" I repeated.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

He leaned forward and buried his face in my neck. I kept my hands flat against the mattress. I refused to touch him.

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled against my skin. "You are still my Luna. I will take care of you forever."

"A Luna in a wheelchair," I said.

"I won't let anyone challenge you."

"The pack will reject me, Anson. A crippled wolf cannot lead."

He pulled back. "I am the Alpha. My word is law."

"What about an heir?" I asked, pushing the blade deeper. "I can't lead hunts. I can't protect pups."

"We don't need biological pups," Anson replied smoothly.

Right on cue.

"What do you mean?"

"We can adopt," he said. "Give an orphaned child a home."

"Adopt?"

"Yes. A pup who needs loving parents."

"Where would we even find an orphaned pup?" I asked.

"There are always casualties in these border skirmishes," Anson said. "Or pups abandoned by rogues. We could take one in. Raise her as our own."

"Her?"

Anson blinked. "Or him. A boy or a girl. It doesn't matter."

He almost slipped up.

I forced a weak, trembling smile.

"A little girl would be nice," I said softly.

He watched my face closely. Searching for resistance. Searching for the pride he thought he just broke.

"You really mean that?" he asked.

"Of course," I lied. "Anything for our pack."

Relief washed over his features. He smiled brightly.

"You are incredible," he said.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. His mouth felt like ash. I closed my eyes and endured the kiss, counting the seconds until he pulled away.

You want Diana? I thought. You want Judy in the Pack House?

Fine. I will give you exactly what you want. And then I will burn it all to the ground.

The door opened, and Dr. Miller walked in. He held a clipboard, his eyes avoiding mine.

"How is the pain, Wendy?" the doctor asked.

"I don't feel any pain," I said. "I don't feel anything at all."

Dr. Miller shifted his weight. "The infection from the rogue's bite was severe. It spread to the bone. I had to sever the nerves to stop the necrosis from reaching your spine."

He recited the lie perfectly.

"You saved my life, Doctor," I said.

He finally looked up. Guilt flashed in his eyes, quick and sharp.

"I did what had to be done," he muttered.

"I understand," I said. "You were just following orders."

Anson stepped closer to the bed. "Dr. Miller is the best in the territory. We are lucky to have him."

"Very lucky," I agreed.

"I need to check your vitals," Dr. Miller said, stepping up to the monitor. "Everything looks stable. But you need rest."

"I want to go home, Anson," I said, turning my attention back to my Alpha. "Take me back to the Pack House."

"You just had surgery. You need observation," Anson said.

"I can observe her at the Pack House," Dr. Miller interjected. "If that is what the Luna prefers. The medical wing there is fully equipped."

Anson shot the doctor a sharp look. "Are you sure?"

"She will heal better in a familiar environment," Dr. Miller said.

"I hate hospitals," I insisted. "I want to be in our bed."

Anson hesitated. He looked between me and the doctor.

"Alright," Anson finally said. "I'll have the transport prepared."

He turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the man who ruined my body.

I stared at my motionless leg under the blanket. The numbness was real. The damage was done.

But Anson made one fatal miscalculation.

A crippled wolf never forgets how to bite.

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