Scar of Betrayal
Cleopatra winced as she pressed her hand against her side, the once-searing pain of Renee's stab wound now reduced to a dull throb beneath the thin layer of skin that had already healed.
Their kind always healed faster than humans, their bodies designed to withstand pain and recover quickly from it. But at this moment, Cleopatra wished that she couldn't heal but rather bleed from the wound for a long time.
The tiny scar left behind was more than just a reminder of physical pain. It was a mark of betrayal, one that carved deeper into her soul than any blade ever could.
A thin line of pale skin now marked where the knife had entered, a silver of flesh that would serve as a constant reminder of her betrayal. She hated it. Not because of the discomfort, but because it symbolized everything she had come to realize. She had been deceived, manipulated, and used.
The pain she had felt was nothing compared to the storm raging inside her. Marcus's voice still echoed in her mind, repeating the revelation that shattered everything. “You were sent to seduce him, Cleopatra,” he said, his voice laced with betrayal. “You were never one of us.”
Cleopatra had been operating under the belief that she was doing what was necessary, that Alpha Williams was a ruthless killer, a monster that needed to be put down for the good of the entire realm. Alpha Kane had assured her of it. He'd painted Alpha Williams as nothing short of a tyrant.
Her mind spun, trying to reconcile the man she thought she knew with the one who had lied to her about everything. She was supposed to seduce, extract their secrets, and then slit Williams’ throat. The mission had been simple.
Until it wasn't.
Alpha Williams wasn't the monster Kane had described or the tyrant she had been led to believe he was. The realization clawed at her, sending waves of nausea through her as guilt mixed with fury. How could she have been so blind? How could she have trusted her Alpha, followed his instructions without question, without seeing the truth? But how could she have known?
Her chest tightened, a churning mix of anger and betrayal roiling inside her. The vision flashed before her again, that nightmarish cell she had tried so hard to find. The same cell Alpha Kane had tried to keep hidden. The scene was becoming clearer with each passing moment, no longer a blur of shadows and screams but a vivid image she couldn't escape.
She had seen them. The prisoners, shackled, their eyes wide with terror. And Kane…standing over them, his face cold and emotionless as he slit their throats one by one. Their blood had stained the floor, pooled around their feet, and Cleopatra had stood frozen, horrified.
He tried so hard to get rid of the evidence but she had seen it all in a vision. Her stomach twisted, and bile rose in her throat. How many had died because of her? How much blood was on her hands?
A sob bubbled up in her chest, but she swallowed it down, choking on the weight of her guilt. She had been Kane's puppet, a pawn in his game of power, and she had played her part perfectly. But no more.
Revenge burned in her veins now, hot and consuming. Kane had to pay for what he'd done, for all the lives he had taken, and for the lies he had spun. But even as the fire of vengeance flared inside her, a part of her hesitated, held back by a loyalty she couldn't shake. But one he had exposed.
The memory hit her like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath from her lungs. The day everything changed, the day she had become Kane's.
She had just turned sixteen. Young, naive, and desperate to prove herself, she had taken on Kane's challenge to train with a blindfold on. She remembered the thrill, the way her senses heightened, every sound sharper, every breath louder. But she hadn't sensed the Alpha. Not even when he had entered the training room.
It happened so fast. One moment, she was sparring against the air, her sword moving in perfect rhythm with the silence. The next, she felt the blade bite into something solid. Not a target, not the practice dummy she'd been training against.
It was flesh.
Cleopatra had ripped the blindfold from her eyes, her heart pounding as she stared down at the figure crumpled on the floor. Blood soaked the front of Alpha Pete’s shirt, his eyes wide with shock as he clutched the wound.
He had been so kind to her, the man who had taken her in, saved her from the wild when she was nothing but a frightened child wandering aimlessly through the forest.
Her hands had trembled then, just as they did now. “I didn't mean to,” she whispered, but the words had fallen in dead ears. Alpha Pete's breathing had slowed, his eyes glazing over with death's cold grip. His lips moved, like he was telling her something but she wasn't paying attention as shock and fear gripped her.
And then Kane walked in, calm, collected. She had expected him to be angry, to punish her or report to the elders, but instead, he had crouched beside his father's body, his lips curling into something that resembled satisfaction but she had been too scared to dwell on that. Thinking about it now, Cleopatra wondered why.
“I'll help you,” he had said, his voice low and dangerous. “But you'll swear loyalty to me. From now on, I own you.”
She had wanted to confess, to run to the elders, to tell them what had happened. But Kane had stopped her, his words searing into her mind. “If you tell them, they'll throw you to the rogues. They'll devour you, Cleopatra. Is that what you want?”
She had been too young, too frightened to see through the lie. So she had done as he asked. Sworn her allegiance to him. Allowed herself to become his weapon, his tool. She became his.
And she hated herself for it.
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