My mate, Alpha Boston Cruz of the Silver Fang Pack, was obsessively clean.

In the three years of our bond, I was never able to get close to him; I couldn’t even hand him a paintbrush without wrapping it in paper first. Even then, he’d take it and meticulously sanitize it with disinfectant. If I accidentally touched his fingertips, he’d punish me by making me kneel naked in the sun, claiming it was to disinfect me and purify my filthy body.

Things changed one day when I tripped over a paint bucket and fell into his arms. I was surprised when he didn’t make me kneel outside, and I naively thought he was finally willing to accept me. But the next day, my nude sketches were up for auction at an underground exhibition.

Some wealthy rogues inquired about the price with obvious ill intentions. Alpha Boston stood expressionless, spraying alcohol over himself.

"A filthy Omega, riddled with germs, dares to touch the clothes Beta Clare gave me?" he sneered, his Alpha tone cutting through the room like a whip.

"Alpha Boston’s been trying to preserve those precious gifts from Beta Clare. We can’t let someone like Selena defile them. She needs to know her place!" one of the Deltas chimed in, his voice dripping with mockery.

Alpha Boston chuckled softly, "Maybe that would be a reward for her."

"That kind of shameless Omega probably wishes she could strut around naked all the time!" another Delta added, his laughter echoing in the room.

The pack’s laughter rose like a storm, piercing my ears.

"If Beta Clare weren’t so disgusted by her that she felt sick every time she saw her, Alpha Boston wouldn’t need to clean himself constantly."

"This auction might fulfill her exhibitionist fantasies. She should be grateful to Alpha Boston!"

Each mocking word pierced my heart, suffocating me until I almost fainted. For three years, whenever I tried to approach my mate, he would shout at me to keep my distance, always pushing me away.

He claimed I had a scent that made him sick. Even though I couldn’t detect it, I believed him and obsessively tried different perfumes to mask any odor. But with excessive use, I developed painful rashes, my skin drying and cracking all over.

Alpha Boston accused me of carrying a disease, isolating me to a separate room, forbidding me from moving freely in the pack house. I once asked him to explain the supposed scent, but he never did. I even went to the pack healer for a complete check-up, and the reports showed no issues.

Despite showing him the results, Alpha Boston refused to believe them, saying, "Just because the healer didn’t find anything doesn’t mean you’re healthy."

I’d long felt insecure because of this, avoiding close contact with others for fear of making them uncomfortable. I never realized that all these inhumane treatments weren’t due to any scent on me—but because Beta Clare didn’t like me and used any excuse to mistreat me.

My bond with Alpha Boston was something I begged for. We grew up as childhood friends, and I had adored him for years, doing whatever he asked without question. I covered for him when he skipped pack training and took the blame, enduring punishment without complaint. When he got caught with Beta Clare in our youth and didn’t want her implicated, he asked me to take the fall, and I complied.

Everyone could see I was in love with him—everyone except him. People said my love was pathetic and unending, but I thought as long as he looked at me even once, nothing else mattered. When I insisted on bonding with Alpha Boston, my parents, Alpha Palmer Shaw and Luna Aria Sullivan of the Shadow Moon Pack, tried everything to stop me, but I was unyielding.

I even broke ties with them just to be with him. On the day I left the Shadow Moon Pack, my mother said, "Selena, you will regret this. If you ever do, your father and I will always be here waiting for you."

I left without looking back, foolishly thinking I was walking toward happiness. But on our bonding day, Alpha Boston didn’t even show up. I stood alone in my ceremonial gown, listening to the officiant recite the vows, saying "I do" into empty air, tears brimming in my eyes.

I naively believed that if I were patient enough, Alpha Boston would eventually accept me. I never imagined my patience would lead to this.

It was time to end things. Trembling, I dialed my parents' number, my voice barely a whisper through my tears, "Mom, Dad, I was wrong. Can you come and take me home?"

The streets were cold, but I couldn’t bring myself to go back to the Silver Fang Pack estate. The memories of how I had tried to please Alpha Boston Cruz tormented me, replaying in my mind like a broken record.

When Alpha Boston first demanded I pose as his nude model, I refused. But he persisted, manipulating and degrading me. "Do you realize posing for me is a privilege?" he’d sneer, his alpha tone sharp and cutting. "With your plain, unremarkable figure, who’d ever find you worthy of attention?" Under his relentless psychological control, I gradually lost all sense of self-worth and eventually gave in to his demands.

Each time, he would force me into degrading poses, claiming it was for the sake of art, scolding me for being too naive to understand the "sacrifice" required. But now, I saw through his lies. This wasn’t about art—it was about power, control, and humiliation.

I didn’t want to return, but Alpha Boston called, his voice cold and commanding. "Selena, if you don’t come back, I’ll destroy that watch you cherish so much." My heart clenched. That watch, a gift from my parents for my 18th birthday, was the only thing I had left from my family. I couldn’t lose it.

When I stepped into the estate, the air was thick with an overpowering scent of disinfectant and something sickly sweet. The floor was littered with damp white stains, and the trash bin overflowed with empty condom wrappers. Alpha Boston stood in the middle of the chaos, disheveled, his collar smeared with lipstick, his face flushed. He approached me with a smirk—the first time he’d smiled at me since our marking ceremony. It made my skin crawl.

"I’m tired, Alpha. I need to rest," I said quickly, trying to escape, but he grabbed my arm with a bruising grip.

“Selena, I’ve had a burst of inspiration. How about I paint a portrait of you?” His voice was smooth, but his eyes were cold.

“No, thank you,” I said, trying to pull away, but his grip was unyielding. He stripped me bare and locked me inside a transparent glass chamber. The harsh lights blinded me, and for a moment, I was too stunned to react.

When my vision cleared, I saw a group of sleazy "artists" staring at me like I was some kind of specimen. Their leering smiles made my stomach churn.

"She’s the muse for today’s masterpiece! What a sight!" one of them sneered.

Panicked, I crouched down, trying to shield myself with my hands.

"Oh, look at her, pretending to be shy! What a performance!" another jeered.

"Exactly, with all those suggestive poses in the paintings, what’s with the innocent act now? But I must admit, I enjoy this little game!" Their laughter echoed in my ears, making me feel dizzy.

I stared at Alpha Boston, desperately hoping for some shred of decency in him. But his face was filled with pride and pleasure, his gaze full of contempt—for me—and hunger for profit. He looked at me like I was nothing more than a tool.

The laughter grew louder, their stares sharper. I curled into myself, wishing I could disappear. I searched for some refuge in the bare chamber, but there was nothing but the glaring lights.

The studio door swung open, and Beta Clare Jenkins walked in. She looked down at me, her expression full of scorn. “A tainted Omega stripped bare for all to see—disgusting,” she mouthed exaggeratedly, holding her nose in mockery.

Alpha Boston’s demeanor changed instantly. He gazed at Beta Clare with such tenderness it was almost sickening. He reached out to embrace her, but she stepped aside with a look of disdain.

“Beta Clare, I’ve sanitized myself thoroughly with alcohol spray,” he said quickly, his tone almost pleading. “If you’re concerned, I’ll spray myself again in front of you!”

He pulled a small bottle from his pocket and doused himself with sanitizer, then spritzed on cologne as if I carried some foul stench. Once he was done, he eagerly pulled Beta Clare into a tight embrace, kissing her passionately as if I weren’t even there.

“Selena is just Alpha Boston’s lapdog. He never gives her a second thought,” someone snickered.

“Exactly, all for nothing in the end,” another added.

"Well, this is her payback. She insisted on breaking up the perfect pair of Alpha Boston and Beta Clare. Now she’s getting what she deserves. But I must say, her body is quite a sight!”

Humiliation, accusations, mockery—their vile words engulfed me, drowning me in shame. Alpha Boston and Beta Clare, locked in their embrace, left the studio, leaving a trail of clothes behind them. Beta Clare’s cries echoed from the hallway, loud enough to shake the walls.

It was almost laughable to think that the mate bond I had fought so hard to protect had led me to this.

I lost track of time before people finally trickled out of the studio. A few lingered, taking one last look at me, some even raised their phones to capture a shot, only to be stopped by Gage Allen, a Delta in the pack.

“Rogue Gray, recording this would cost extra,” Gage said with a knowing smirk.

The rogue grinned, “Trust Alpha Boston to know how to make a buck!”

I sat there, numb, the earlier events replaying in my mind.

“Put this on,” Alpha Boston tossed a coat onto my face.

Slowly, I took the coat and draped it over my frozen limbs. My prolonged exposure had left my body numb and unresponsive.

“You truly are shameless, being exposed for so long without a care,” he sneered at me.

“Everyone’s gone. No one’s watching anyway,” he continued, his gaze filled with contempt.

I had nothing more to say to him and rose to leave, but his voice stopped me.

“Why are your parents coming over these days?” he demanded.

“I don’t know, Alpha. Maybe they miss me.” I didn’t want to reveal the truth, so I deflected casually.

“Miss you?” He laughed, “They cast you out like a stray, haven’t cared for three years, and now they suddenly miss you? Ridiculous.”

I wanted to contradict him, tell him that Alpha Palmer and Luna Aria had been quietly depositing money into my account and sending me homemade treats over the years, but the words stuck in my throat. It wasn’t worth saying anything more.

“Alpha, Rogue Gray is willing to pay another half a million for all the footage from earlier!” Gage rushed in excitedly.

Turning my head, I noticed for the first time the array of cameras surrounding me, all positioned for the perfect shot.

It was then I realized today’s private event was just the beginning. Alpha Boston’s ambitions to exploit me went far beyond what I had imagined.

“Silence! Watch your words!” Alpha Boston snapped, cutting Gage off before he could say more.

The phone rang abruptly, and it was Alpha Boston Cruz. After reading the message, a smug grin spread across his face.

"Who said you could leave?" He seized my arm with a grip that could crush bone.

For three years, this was the first time he had willingly come near me, to touch me. I had fantasized about this moment countless times, imagining how thrilled I would be. To prepare for this, I scrubbed myself clean obsessively, taking showers five times a day, as if I could wash away the stench of his disdain. But when the moment finally came, all I felt was a wave of nausea.

I tried to shake off his grip, but his hold was unyielding, his Alpha aura pressing down on me like a weight.

"What are you trying to do?" I asked coolly, though my voice trembled slightly despite my efforts to keep it steady.

"Nothing much, just thought my dear mate had a rough day and deserves a little reward," he said, his tone dripping with mockery.

"No need! Just let me go back to my room and rest," I insisted, my voice firmer this time.

Ignoring my words, he tossed me into the bathtub and began pouring different kinds of soap all over me, his movements rough and careless.

"What exactly are you doing?" I demanded, my voice rising as I tried to shield myself from the onslaught.

He ignored my question, squeezing soap into my mouth whenever I tried to speak, his face twisted in disgust.

"Just cleaning out your bad breath. It’s turning my stomach," he sneered, his voice cold and cutting.

Afterward, he left the room, allowing several burly Deltas to come in and scrub me from head to toe, their hands rough and impersonal. I felt like a piece of meat being prepared for slaughter.

As the door clicked shut, I caught a glimpse of him furiously spraying himself with alcohol and cologne. "The smell is unbearable! It's making me sick!" he muttered under his breath, his words slicing through me like a knife.

When my skin was nearly rubbed raw, they finally let me out of the bathroom. Alpha Boston eyed my reddened skin with satisfaction, as if he had accomplished some great feat.

I reached for the clothes draped over the chair to put them on, but he stopped me, his hand closing around my wrist with bruising force.

"Let me take a few photos first," he said, his voice commanding, leaving no room for argument.

He draped strings of pearls over me, busying himself with his camera, his movements deliberate and calculated.

"I don’t want to take photos!" I protested, trying to shake off the jewelry, but his Alpha tone froze me in place.

"Why are you throwing a tantrum now?" he demanded, his voice sharp and cutting.

"Let me remind you, these jewels could buy your life!" he added, his smirk widening as if he enjoyed the power he held over me.

"You usually look so plain and dull, you don't even try to dress up for photos," he continued, his words laced with contempt.

I looked at the expensive pearls on me and felt that my life over the years had been utterly absurd. Alpha Boston always claimed to like simplicity, so my wardrobe consisted entirely of plain clothes, and I neither wore makeup nor adorned myself with any jewelry, all in an attempt to please him. Yet now my efforts were dismissed as plain and unworthy.

Amidst our argument, Beta Clare Jenkins pushed the door open and walked in, her presence like a dark cloud descending over the room.

She lightly touched the pearls on me and gave my cheek a pat, her touch cold and condescending.

"Selena, you’ve got such a great figure, no wonder you can't wait for the whole world to see you naked," she said, her voice sweet but her eyes glinting with malice.

"No wonder the Alpha would pay a million dollars for your private photos," she added, her words dripping with venom.

With that, she burst into laughter, her voice echoing off the walls, a cruel symphony that made my stomach churn.