The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 13

Freya's POV

The VIP room was more luxurious than I had imagined. The walls were covered in deep red velvet, crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and soft lighting illuminated a group of wolves seated on plush couches in the center. They wore expensive custom clothing, jewelry glinting at wrists and throats, every detail screaming wealth and status.

I stood in the doorway, acutely aware of how out of place I was. These were Moon Bay's elite—high-ranking Betas and their associates, possibly some powerful Alpha assistants. They regarded me with curiosity and something else I couldn't quite identify—a hungry anticipation.

"Come closer, dancer," a male in a purple silk shirt beckoned. "Let us get a better look at you."

I approached the center of the room, trying to maintain a graceful posture despite my racing heart. The room smelled of power and privilege, so different from the desperate survival scents I'd grown accustomed to in the Wilds and Shadow District.

"Turn around," a female commanded, her voice cold and haughty. "Let us see if the Howl's entertainment tonight is worth our time."

I obeyed, turning slowly, feeling their gazes like physical touches on my exposed skin. When I faced them again, a man in a tailored suit suddenly sat up straighter, pointing at my neck.

"Wait, that mark!" he exclaimed, eyes widening. "Look at that moon-shaped mark! She's the Riley daughter, the one who almost married Thorne Grey!"

My blood froze, terror washing over me in an instant.

"No, you're mistaken," I quickly denied, my voice trembling with fear. "I just happen to have a similar mark. It's common in some packs."

But my instinctive retreat had already given me away. The atmosphere in the room shifted, transforming from casual curiosity to the tense excitement of predators discovering vulnerable prey. They exchanged glances, lips curving into unsettling smiles.

"A Riley, reduced to dancing in the Shadow District," a female tittered, fingering her expensive necklace.

"Perhaps she should prove she's not a Riley," a man wearing a gold watch suggested, his eyes gleaming dangerously. "Demonstrate her true low-rank status."

My heart sank, knowing what was coming. This was no longer just a performance—it was a game designed to humiliate a fallen member of a family that had once outranked them.

"Kneel," Gold Watch commanded, his voice carrying the unmistakable Beta authority that, in this room full of high-ranking wolves, my instincts urged me to obey. "Clean each guest's shoes, to show your... servitude."

I stood frozen, my jaw tightening. "I'm here to dance, not to clean shoes."

The room fell silent. Gold Watch's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You know what happens to exiles who can't find employment?" he asked softly. "They get reported. Sent back to the Wilds. Permanently."

"We pay good money to this establishment," another man added, swirling his expensive whiskey. "Wolf King would be very disappointed to hear you refused to please his valued customers."

I thought of Terra, of the meager room I'd been given above the bar, of my desperate need to find my family. My shoulders slumped slightly.

I slowly sank to my knees, the marble floor cold against my skin. Deep humiliation spread through me as I reached for the cloth they offered. My hands shook slightly, but I willed them to be steady. I would not show weakness.

"Look at that," Purple Shirt remarked as I polished his Italian leather shoes. "A Riley on her knees before me. I should take a picture."

"Don't you dare," I said through clenched teeth, looking up with a flash of defiance.

He laughed, a harsh sound that made my wolf bristle. "The exile still has teeth! Careful. You're not in a position to make demands."

I moved from one guest to another, cleaning their shoes as instructed. After each one, Gold Watch insisted I say, "Thank you for your generosity," words that made me feel physically ill.

"Thank you... for your generosity," I forced out after the third pair, the words sticking in my throat.

But they weren't satisfied with just this humiliation.

---

"I have a better idea," a tall, thin man proposed, his scent reeking of an unsettling excitement. "Let's recreate the trial scene. I'll play the esteemed Alpha judge, and she can... relive her sentencing."

I rose to my feet immediately. "No. That's enough." My voice was steady, but my heart hammered in my chest.

The tall man smiled coldly. "Sit down, Riley. You don't give orders here."

"This has gone too far," I said, backing toward the door. "I'll dance for you, but I won't—"

"Two thousand dollars," Gold Watch interrupted, pulling out his wallet. "Right now, in cash, if you play along."

I froze. Two thousand dollars. That was more money than I had seen since returning from exile.

"Three thousand," the female with the necklace added, "if you make it convincing. Truly show your... remorse."

"And if I don't?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

The tall man shrugged. "Then we inform the Shadow District patrol that an ex-exile is impersonating a dancer to gain access to high-society clients. I wonder what the penalty for that might be?"

"Wolf King would lose his license," Purple Shirt added. "And you'd lose any chance of working in Moon Bay again. Is your pride worth that?"

I stood there, trembling with rage and helplessness. My nails lengthened slightly into claws, a reflexive response to the threat. But what choice did I have? This humiliation or return to the Wilds—possibly forever this time.

"Fine," I whispered, the word tasting like ash.

The thin man seated himself in the central position, mimicking Thorne's posture and tone. The others arranged themselves in a semicircle, playing the court audience. I was ordered to kneel in the center of the room, head bowed, hands on my knees.

"Freya Riley," the man intoned, deliberately mimicking Thorne's authoritative voice, "you stand accused of betrayal. How do you plead?"

I remained silent, jaw clenched tight.

"I said," he repeated, voice hardening, "how do you plead?"

"I didn't betray anyone," I said quietly, raising my eyes to meet his. "In the real trial or now."

A murmur of displeasure rippled through the room. Gold Watch leaned forward.

"We're paying you for a performance, Riley. Not your version of events." His eyes were cold. "Four thousand. Total. If you say what we want to hear."

Four thousand dollars. Enough to rent a real room somewhere.

"Guilty," I said softly, each word like a blade across my tongue.

"Louder!" another guest called. "Let us all hear your confession."

"Guilty!" I raised my voice, feeling tears threaten but refusing to let them fall. I wouldn't give them that satisfaction.

"Now," the fake judge continued, "tell us exactly what you did. Confess your crimes against Alpha Thorne Grey and Beta Elite Kaelin Brooks."

I hesitated, my wolf snarling within me at the mention of Kaelin's name.

"Go on," the female with the necklace prompted. "Tell us how you attacked poor Kaelin out of jealousy and spite."

My hands clenched into fists on my knees. "I... I attacked Beta Elite Brooks," I forced out, the lie burning my throat. "Because I was... jealous."

"And?" Purple Shirt prompted, enjoying my discomfort.

"And... I deserved my punishment," I continued, the words mechanical.

"More feeling!" Gold Watch demanded. "Make us believe it!"

I closed my eyes briefly, summoning the strength to continue this farce. When I opened them again, I made my voice shake with false emotion.

"I betrayed the trust of the pack," I said, reciting the words they wanted to hear. "I acted out of jealousy and selfishness. I... deserve no mercy."

The cruelest part came when they made me imitate my reaction to the sentencing. They wanted to see me beg "the honorable judge" for mercy, to witness my breakdown.

"Please, Your Honor," I whispered, my voice shaking with suppressed emotion—not the emotion they thought they were witnessing, but rage at being forced to relive and distort the worst day of my life. "Show mercy."