Mark of Sin: Bound to the Cruel Alpha

"She gave me nothing. No drugs. Ever." The glare Magnus leveled at the judge was so dangerously sharp, so laced with lethal Alpha authority, that the woman visibly recoiled.

"It is our understanding that you resided together," the judge pressed on, recovering her composure. "Did she prepare your meals?"

Magnus rose slowly from his seat. I watched in horror as the color drained from his face, leaving his skin a ghostly, ash-grey hue. His jaw clenched so tight the muscles bulged against his skin.

"Yes," he forced out through gritted teeth, his voice laced with excruciating strain. "She... she cooked for me. A few times."

"No..." I whispered, shaking my head as tears blurred my vision. "No, I didn’t... I would never..."

Nobody listened. Nobody even looked at me.

"Furthermore, Your Honor," the prosecutor continued, practically savoring every drop of venom in his words, "our investigation confirmed that the very same rogues working under Adam Pitt—the ones who held Miss Karina captive—deliberately orchestrated the arson at Jane Lang’s dormitory.

It was no random attack. It was a calculated ploy. As an Alpha, Lord Magnus’s innate protective instincts made it impossible for him to leave an unbonded female homeless and exposed. He took in a viper, unaware she was poised to strike. It was all a master plan—giving Jane Lang unrestricted access to his home and his food, allowing her to systematically drug him, taint his wolf’s instincts, and forge the illusion of a fated mate bond!"

I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn’t even think.

My whole world was crumbling into dust around me. Every word spat from his mouth was another heavy nail driven straight into my coffin.

"Magnus," I turned to him, my voice cracking under the weight of my breaking heart. My soul screamed out for his, desperate to breach the suffocating web of lies tightening around us. "Please, say something... you can feel me! You know our mate bond is real! Tell them it’s all a lie..."

GAVEL STRIKE.

"Defendant! Silence yourself this instant!" the judge barked, her voice cutting through the heavy air like a whip. "This is your absolute final warning!"

The judge paused for a beat, her sharp gaze locking onto Magnus.

"Alpha Rainn, you are a key witness in this trial. Answer the court: do you feel the bond with the defendant? Do you still recognize her as your fated mate?"

Magnus rose slowly—agonizingly slowly. His face was carved from granite, devoid of any warmth.

He turned his head to look at me, and in his dark eyes, I found only a vast, desolate void. Absolute, lifeless emptiness.

"No," he said, his voice hollow and flat. "I feel nothing. Nothing at all. Ever since I was separated from her and underwent medical treatment—blood cleansing... there is nothing left."

The words struck harder than a silver blade through the heart.

The prosecutor delivered the final blow with a triumphant gleam in his eyes:

"Your Honor, we have also submitted medical documentation verifying that Jane Lang is an Alpha Breeder. That is precisely why we requested the soundproof, scent-proof glass containment cell for her during these proceedings. You must agree—if they were truly fated mates, a bulletproof glass barrier could never prevent an Alpha from sensing his mate’s soul-bond, correct?"

The prosecutor offered a searching look, and once the judge gave a subtle nod, he forged ahead.

"We have entered scientific studies into evidence demonstrating how an Alpha Breeder can manipulate an Alpha’s mind and primal instincts through targeted pheromones, particularly when combined with mind-altering psychoactive drugs.

Furthermore, records from the defendant’s academy document an incident where Miss Lang used her dominant influence to drive an Alpha professor into a frenzy. This deliberate provocation is corroborated by statements from her classmates and Lina Morrow, head of the Breeder Student Council.

They testify that Miss Lang intentionally targeted him with her scent, acting provocatively before setting him up—using her pheromones to force Alpha Magnus to execute an actual vigilante justice under the guise of protecting his ’fated mate.’"

I sat paralyzed, my mind refusing to process the sheer absurdity of it all. Every truth, every innocent action, every single detail had been twisted, warped, and weaponized against me. The web of deception was woven so impeccably, so flawlessly, that I appeared guilty beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Reviewing the thick file before her, the judge frowned sternly down at me from the bench.

"Defendant Jane Lang, if you have anything to offer in your defense, you may address the court now."

I pushed myself up on trembling legs, white-knuckling the edge of the table to keep from collapsing.

"I... I am innocent. Entirely innocent! This is all a lie, a twisted nightmare! I never forged any mark, I swear on my life! And that nurse—she’s lying! She was bribed or threatened! None of this is real! I bought basic antibiotics for a sick friend! They... they can ask Adam, he’ll confirm everything! He knows the truth!"

"Miss Lang," the prosecutor interjected with a cold, mocking smirk, "the male known as Adam Oitt has been placed on the international fugitive list. He fled the country to escape justice—no doubt realizing his treasonous scheme had collapsed."

"I... I don’t believe you..." I shook my head, sinking back into my seat as a wave of complete exhaustion washed over me. There was nothing left inside me. No strength, no hope, no faith.

Nico stood up, adjusting his papers as he cleared his throat. "The defense has a question—a critical point that demands clarification. Miss Nyland, you claim you were held captive for a full year while your blood was harvested continuously. Were your captors simply waiting for Alpha Magnus to touch up his tattoos? That seems extraordinarily reckless. He might never have visited an artist again, or he might have waited five or ten years. This immaculate timeline makes no sense."

My attorney wiped the cold sweat from his forehead as I leaned closer to the glass, hanging on his every word.

"Your Honor, allow me to add a few critical facts to the record," the prosecutor interjected smoothly.

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