My Alpha Tortured Me to Bring His Mistress Back

The darkness that had enveloped my mind for months finally began to recede. Like a tide pulling back from shore, the oppressive weight that had crushed my wolf spirit started to lift. I felt myself rising to the surface of my own consciousness, clawing my way back into the light.

My wolf—my true wolf—stirred within me, gathering strength after being brutally suppressed for so long. The battle had been excruciating, fought in the invisible realm of spirit and will, but we had survived. We had won.

I opened my eyes to the familiar ceiling of the Alpha suite, my vision blurry at first, then slowly focusing. The silk sheets beneath me were tangled, damp with sweat—mine or Navy's, I couldn't tell. My body ached as if I'd run for days without rest, muscles trembling with exhaustion.

But I was home. I was me again.

"Ella," I whispered my own name aloud, testing it on my tongue. The sound felt right, felt true in a way it hadn't for months.

My wolf stirred again, her presence warm and comforting inside me. *We're back,* she seemed to say. *We're finally back.*

A tear slid down my temple and into my hair. After months of being trapped in the darkness of my own mind, watching Navy use my body, speak with my voice, love my mate—I was myself again. The relief was so overwhelming it bordered on pain.

"Thatcher," I breathed, needing him more than anything. My mate would understand what I'd endured. He would help me heal from this nightmare.

I pushed myself up on trembling arms, wincing at the protest from my muscles. The room spun slightly, but I forced myself to stand, swaying on my feet. I needed to find him, needed to feel his arms around me, needed to know he still loved me—the real me.

The door to our bedroom swung open with a decisive click. My heart leapt at the sight of him—tall, powerful, his dark hair slightly tousled as if he'd been running his hands through it. Thatcher's eyes widened when they fell on me, but instead of the joy I expected, something dark and terrible flashed across his face.

"Navy," he said, the name falling from his lips like a prayer. Then his nostrils flared as he scented the air. His expression transformed from hope to rage in an instant. "Where is she?"

I reached for him instinctively, my hand outstretched. "Thatcher, it's me—it's Ella. Navy's gone. I'm back."

He stalked toward me, his movements predatory, dangerous. The Alpha aura that usually made me feel protected now pressed against me like a physical weight, suffocating and threatening.

"You," he snarled, his voice dropping into the terrifying Alpha tone that made even the strongest pack members cower. "You're back."

I flinched at the disgust in his voice. "Yes... I fought her off. I'm myself again."

Thatcher grabbed my wrist, his fingers digging painfully into my skin. "What did you do to her? Where is Navy?"

"Thatcher,