Grote Mendoza, the Alpha of the Valkyrie pack, has an extremely strong libido. Whenever he sees my body, he can't seem to control himself at all. He's very rough with me in bed, resulting in me fainting every time we sleep with each other.

"Honey, can you endure this for me one more time?"

It's been seven years. This is my 99th time enduring the torturous session with Grote. Because of that, my private part suffers from severe ulceration and infection.

I thought Grote loves me, but it turns out that he's just a wolf who suffers from weird fetishes.

I thought he'll slowly learn how to be gentle with me for my sake. But when I watch all 99 tapes that he and his mistress, Christine Henson, have recorded of themselves going at it, I finally realize that his gentle side is never meant for me at all.

Grote blames me for not being able to be with pup thanks to my private part's condition. He allows Christine to abuse and humiliate me however she wants. In fact, he even beds her before my eyes.

He refuses to believe that I will ditch him. All he does is beg me relentlessly for my forgiveness and promise me that I'll be his only Luna. Apparently, having a mistress spices up his bedroom life for him.

But Grote repeatedly allows Christine to humiliate me. She forces me to become her slave and keep serving her until she gives birth to her pup.

I've been enduring Grote's actions for seven years. All I get is pain and abuse that keeps worsening in return.

I don't want to endure the humiliation anymore, even if it means dying right here, right now.

I jump into the sea without hesitation, allowing the ice-cold water to swallow me whole. I'm willing to do anything just to escape from Grote's suffocating love that's packaged as abuse…

After I die in the sea, Grote completely loses control of himself and keeps looking for me everywhere he goes.

This was the 99th time I was told, under the healer's disdainful gaze, that my private part was infected and ulcerated again.

"If you don't take care of yourself, this will get worse and could kill you."

I swallowed the humiliation, forced a self-deprecating smile, and quietly accepted the healer's blunt, uncaring words.

I was the mate of Grote Mendoza, the Valkyrie pack's Alpha. His desire was insatiable, and he needed me day and night.

But he was rough, with twisted fetishes that involved forcing objects into me. Even when I started to bleed, he wouldn't stop until he reached his peak.

"What are you scared of? You're a she-wolf with self-healing abilities. A little pain is nothing."

Every time I tried to protest, he would use those words to comfort me.

I endured this abuse in silence, convinced that he loved me deeply and that his bizarre fetishes were just a quirk. Over time, he would learn to be gentle.

But he always postponed our bonding ceremony and my Luna coronation ceremony, and my position in the pack was very awkward.

One night, I came home late. Through the door, I heard soft, intimate moans coming from the bedroom.

I froze. The feeling of betrayal crawled into my mind like a swarm of ants.

Instinctively, I wanted to burst through the door and scream at Grote, demanding to know why he had betrayed me.

But as my hand touched the door, fear like I'd never felt before stopped me in my tracks.

Seven years—seven years by his side, and I had always believed we were fated mates.

Even though he was the one who betrayed me, I stood outside the door like a coward, unable to find a shred of courage to face him.

And so I stood there, listening to them reach climax after climax while my heart broke over and over again.

When Christine Henson, an Omega, came running out while shyly clutching her clothes, our eyes met. She didn't look the least bit sorry. Her gaze was filled with nothing but pure provocation.

I raised my hand to slap her, but she easily dodged me and ran off.

The scent of their passion filled the air, suffocating me. I didn't even notice the tears streaming down my face.

When Grote saw me, he panicked. He immediately rushed to me and pulled me close as I trembled and dissolved into tears.

He stroked my face, and with the same lips that had just kissed that other she-wolf, he pressed against my ear and begged for my forgiveness.

"Honey, I couldn't help it. You were late. If I didn't release it, I might have passed out. Christine is a renowned expert in bed in the pack. There's nothing real between us. I was only learning techniques from her. The sounds you heard were from a tape.

"I can't help myself when I'm in heat. You know me better than anyone. I was in so much pain. That's why I… Honey, please don't make this harder for me."

Maybe love had clouded my judgment. I actually forced myself to believe him.

But when I saw the bloodstain on the sheets, it felt like my heart had been shredded over and over again.

He begged me with those sweet words, forcing me to give in. "Trust me. I won't do it again. I promise this is the last time."

I held on.

But three days later, I found a box of tapes under the bed. Inside were 99 tapes, each showing Grote in an intimate embrace with Christine.

I had never seen him treat me this gently. He didn't use those sharp objects to toy with that she-wolf's body. His touch was soft, as if the wolf who had once abused me was a stranger.

Christine's eyes were hazed with passion as she kissed him. She asked, "Which one do you love more, me or Renata?"

Without hesitation, Grote answered, "I love you, honey. I want to fill you up completely. Renata? I got bored with her ages ago. But I could do this with you forever, and it still wouldn't be enough."

Those words drove me mad. I threw the tapes to the ground, even thinking about burning the whole room down.

But instead, I sat there, crying so hard my head ached.

Seven years of my life were completely wasted.

I called Dad, agreeing to the arranged bond I had once been willing to die to refuse. "Dad, I accept Alpha Shane of the Darkfang pack."

Dad was shocked when he heard the words come out of my mouth.

Back then, I had threatened him with my life just to avoid an arranged bond with Shane Russell. Now, here I was, giving in of my own accord.

Dad asked, "Have you really thought this through? Shane hasn't changed his mind about you in all these years. He truly insists you're his fated mate. If you back out halfway like you did before, you'll really embarrass the Vida pack."

"I've made up my mind, Dad," I said firmly.

Back then, Dad saw right through Grote's sweet talk. He warned me I'd end up heartbroken, but I was already blinded by Grote's empty promises.

Under the moonlight, Grote had sworn I was his fated mate and one and only Luna.

I had believed him. But after seven years of waiting, those promises were never kept.

Dad had told me that Shane was still there, waiting for the moment I'd change my mind.

But I wouldn't listen. I was even willing to cut ties with him just to be with Grote.

It broke his heart, yet he still couldn't bring himself to blame me.

I looked down at the mess of tapes I had smashed on the floor. Swallowing the sharp pain in my chest, I gathered them up, box by box.

I never imagined that Grote—the wolf who claimed he'd love me until death—would be so bold as to record every piece of evidence of his betrayal.

Suddenly, the house I had called home felt like a stranger's.

I took a deep breath to push down the rising tide of emotion and began to pack.

Over the years, I had cared for Grote in every possible way.

He suffered from chronic headaches and struggled to sleep, so every night I made him soothing tea. I never went to bed until I was sure he was sound asleep.

I knew Grote had twisted kinks. I was terrified of the way he forced those large objects into me, but for his sake, I endured it all.

I endured him forcing himself into me without a single moment of foreplay. Once he finished, he would simply fall asleep immediately, completely indifferent to my needs.

I never asked for much. Just a little love and care would be enough.

But as I looked back now, I realized that Grote had never actually loved me. He only cared about satisfying his own desires, leaving me to heal my own wounds in silence.

Even when my private part was rotting from the infections, he didn't care. He'd still use those toys to violate me.

Every time I tried to say no, he would look at me with those soulful eyes and coax me softly.

"Please, honey. I can't help myself when I see you. Just bear with me, please. I'm burning up for you. If you really loved me, how could you stand to see me in this much pain?"

His voice was low and seductive, and his expression was a mask of restrained primal instincts.

I fell for it every time. I gave in over and over, enduring daily humiliation.

I turned to look at the home we had shared for seven years. Now that a third wolf had forced her way in, every warm memory felt tainted and hollow.

Just as I was about to walk out, Grote's name flashed on my phone.

"Fine," I thought. I'd tell him I was leaving, say my piece, and put the past behind me for good.

But before I could say a word, Grote's panicked voice came through the line. "Renata! I'm at the healer's. It's bad. It's really bad! I don't know what to do!"

I didn't even stop to ask questions.

Seven years of putting him first had become a reflex. I was worried sick about him.

I hated myself for it. He had shattered me so completely, yet I still couldn't bring myself to stand by and do nothing.

Despite the struggle within me, I found myself racing toward him anyway.

When I arrived, Grote pulled me into a tight embrace. "You're finally here. If you hadn't come, I honestly wouldn't have known what to do!"

I had never seen him this shaken. Grote was typically calm and collected. Aside from the moments when his urges took control, he was a steady and capable Alpha in managing all the pack's affairs.

But today, he looked like a panicked pup.

My heart hammered in my chest as I asked, "Are you okay? What happened?"

But then, a soft moan drifted from inside the room, causing me to freeze.

"Honey, don't worry about me. It wasn't your fault. I'd die happily for you if I had to…"

Grote rushed to reply, "No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have been so rough. I'll be more careful next time, I promise."

The realization hit me like a physical blow. Grote wasn't hurt at all—it was Christine, and I knew exactly why she was hurt.

Grote's appetite was insatiable, and his methods were brutal. In the heat of passion, he would lose all restraint and push with excessive force. After seven years, I knew the agony of that tearing sensation all too well.

But whenever I was injured during our intimacy, I had to visit the healer alone.

Grote had never looked at me with the panic and heartache he was currently showering on Christine. Not once.

Despair washed over me, and I couldn't suppress a sneer. "Grote, you promised me you'd never do this again."

Grote stiffened, but there was no guilt or regret on his face—only a flash of pure annoyance.

"Renata, can you grow up? Look at the situation! Do you really have to bring that up right now?

"Christine is hurt because of me. You're always dealing with those infections down there. You know this better than anyone. Go in there and talk to the healer. Help me save Christine."

A bitter taste rose in my throat, and it felt as though my very blood were running cold. What was I even doing here?

My mate of seven years was asking me to save the mistress who had destroyed our relationship.

I really wanted to ask Grote what I was to him.

But before I could speak, he grabbed my arm and dragged me into the treatment room. He barked an order at the male wolves to pin me down, then proceeded to force my legs apart.

"Healer, check her. See if her symptoms down there match Christine's."

I struggled with everything I had. I never imagined that Grote would just ignore the gazes of the other male wolves and force my legs open in front of everyone.

The healer stepped toward me, looking conflicted, but he didn't dare disobey Grote. He donned his cold, latex gloves and prepared to lay hands on me.

"Grote, are you crazy? Are you really going to humiliate me in front of everyone?" I screamed, tears of rage blurring my vision as I tried to cover myself.

However, Grote held me down with terrifying strength. I could feel the eyes of the other male wolves on me. Their stares were like needles pricking my skin.

"How could you do this to me for a mistress? Let me go!" I screamed.

Grote's eyes turned a feral, bloodshot red. "Christine is in critical condition! Stop making a scene!"

From the bed, Christine's soft voice drifted out, "Honey, don't be mad at Ms. Bowers. It's all my fault. I just loved you too much. I'm the one who seduced you.

"Blame me if you have to. I'm completely satisfied now. If Ms. Bowers won't save me, then let me die in agony. I have loved you, and for that, I have no regrets!"

Her words made me want to gag. Since when did an affair become some grand, tragic romance?

But Grote was visibly moved.

At this very moment, I finally tasted the true bitterness of this poison called "love". I was finally, completely awake to reality.

The healer pulled back, and his expression turned solemn as he addressed Grote. "But Alpha Grote, Ms. Henson… is with pup."

Outside the partition, the Betas and warriors fell silent for a heartbeat before their expressions shifted to pure, unadulterated awe.

Everyone knew Christine was a renowned expert in bed. The number of male wolves she'd been with was endless.

Rumor had it she possessed a mystical power. Because of that, she could only be satisfied by truly strong male wolves. And now, Grote had gone so far as to get her pregnant.

To think that the legendary male wolf was none other than my mate of seven years.

The wolves erupted into cheers, the sound thundering against my eardrums.

"Congratulations, Alpha Grote! You're truly the pride of our pack! Ms. Henson's pup will be a warrior for the ages!"

"The Valkyrie Pack has a new heir!"

Seeing their looks of sheer admiration, Grote could no longer suppress the smug grin spreading across his face. He was ecstatic.

I stood there, watching as he gathered Christine into his arms.

She leaned into his chest, weeping happy tears. To me, the scene was so sickeningly blissful.

They completely forgot I existed.

Grote swept Christine up in his arms, carefully carrying her out without a single glance in my direction.

"Wait!" Christine chirped.

Grote stopped instantly, hanging on her every word.

She tilted her chin up to look at me and asked coyly, "Ms. Bowers, you aren't mad, are you? I didn't mean for this to happen. If it hadn't been for your infection down there, this stroke of luck should have been yours."