After My Mate Stole My Rogue Kill, I Defied Him

Alpha Marcus Stone stepped onto the platform, and the ballroom fell silent.

He was everything an Alpha should be—broad-shouldered, commanding, with silver threading through his dark hair that only added to his authority. His presence alone made the crowd straighten, conversations dying mid-sentence.

"Tonight," he began, his voice carrying effortlessly across the marble and crystal, "we gather to honor one of our own. A wolf who has shown remarkable growth, tactical genius, and unwavering dedication to this pack."

I stood in the shadows near the back wall, my fingers finding the clasp of my necklace. The silver burned against my skin, but I didn't let go. Not yet.

"Three years ago," Alpha Marcus continued, "Colin Phillips was a struggling Delta with potential but no direction. Today, he stands before us as a warrior who has single-handedly cleared three rogue territories, eliminated countless threats, and brought honor to the Silvermoon Pack."

Valkyrie snarled in my mind. *Lies. All lies.*

I watched Colin on the platform, standing tall in his ceremonial sash, his chest puffed out like he actually believed the words being spoken about him. Maybe he did. Maybe he'd told the lies so many times that they'd become his truth.

"It is my honor," Alpha Marcus said, placing a hand on Colin's shoulder, "to officially promote Colin Phillips to the rank of Pack Beta."

The crowd erupted. Applause thundered through the ballroom, glasses raised in celebration. I saw Mrs. Phillips in the front row, dabbing at her eyes with a silk handkerchief, playing the proud mother to perfection.

Colin stepped forward to accept the microphone, and the applause grew louder.

My fingers tightened on the necklace clasp.

"Thank you, Alpha Stone," Colin said, his voice steady and confident. "Thank you all for your faith in me. I know my rise has been... unexpected. But I've worked hard for this moment."

Worked hard. The words tasted like ash in my mouth.

"I want to share something with you tonight," Colin continued, pulling a small remote from his pocket. "Something that proves why I deserve this position."

He clicked the remote, and the massive screen behind him flickered to life.

My breath caught.

Ironclaw's face filled the screen—that distinctive scar running from his left eye to his jaw, the one I'd photographed less than forty-eight hours ago. The image was grainy, pulled from some database, but unmistakable.

"Two nights ago," Colin said, his voice dropping to something dramatic, "I tracked the Rogue General known as Ironclaw to an abandoned warehouse on the eastern border. He'd been terrorizing smaller packs for months, killing without mercy."

The crowd leaned forward, captivated.

Valkyrie's rage was a living thing now, clawing at my chest. *Stop him. Stop him now.*

But I didn't move. I needed to hear this. Needed to know exactly how far he'd go.

"The battle was brutal," Colin continued, pacing the platform like he was reliving it. "Ironclaw was massive—nearly three meters in his wolf form. His claws caught me here—" He gestured to his ribs, the exact spot where Ironclaw had actually caught me. "But I didn't back down. I couldn't. Not when our pack's safety was at stake."

He paused for effect, and the silence was absolute.

"I shifted fully, met him head-on, and after what felt like hours..." Colin's voice rose. "I tore his head from his shoulders with my bare hands."

The crowd exploded. Cheers, howls, stamping feet. Someone started chanting Colin's name, and others joined in until the ballroom shook with it.

I stood frozen, watching my kill—my fifty-thousand-dollar bounty, my three-hour hunt in the rain—being claimed by a man who'd been sleeping peacefully in our bed while I bled in the mud.

Then I saw her.

Azalea Stone stood in the front row, her elegant gown shimmering under the lights. She was looking up at Colin with something that made my stomach turn.

Admiration. Pure, genuine admiration.

Her eyes shone with it, her lips parted slightly like she was seeing a hero for the first time. This was the mate she'd been promised—strong, brave, protective. Everything a Beta should be.

She turned, scanning the crowd, and her gaze found me in the shadows.

Pity.

That's what I saw in her face. Not contempt or cruelty, but pity. Like she was looking at a wounded animal that needed to be put out of its misery.

She believed it. She believed every word Mrs. Phillips had fed her about me being a burden, a weak link, a wolfless waste holding back this "hero."

The necklace clasp dug into my palm.

Colin was still talking, describing details of a fight he'd never been in, using words like "savage" and "relentless" and "victory." The crowd ate it up, their new Beta, their champion.

And I stood in the back, wearing a wine-stained dress, watching the man I'd sacrificed everything for steal my glory and call it his own.

Valkyrie's voice was ice. *Enough?*

"Not yet," I whispered.

But my fingers found the clasp of the necklace and held it there, ready.

Because I knew what came next. I'd heard it in the pantry, heard the plan.

The rejection.

And when Colin opened his mouth to cast me aside in front of all these people, in front of the Lycan Prince watching from above, in front of Azalea Stone with her pitying eyes...

That's when I'd show them all what a real hero looked like.