Abandoned by My Mate, Saved by the Rogue Alpha King

Chapter 9 He Sexually Humiliated Me in the Car

　　Eleanor' POV:

　　Carl yanked down my bra, his hands seizing my breasts, kneading them roughly.

　　I gasped in pain, a wave of unwanted pleasure surging from my chest, mixing with the despair that twisted deep inside me.

　　Pleasure and anguish ignited within me, tangled and uncontrollable. I curled in on myself, trying to resist, but my body betrayed me.

　　The werewolf driving slammed the partition shut, locking us into our dark, private space.

　　"Please..." I choked out, my voice barely a whisper.

　　Carl didn't answer. Instead, his hand slid into my panties. The delicate fabric tore beneath his fingers.

　　He began to stroke me, slow and deliberate, teasing the slick folds of my core. His palm brushed across my thighs and hips in cruel, lingering circles.

　　"I hate this," I whispered, but my body was already trembling beneath his touch.

　　My legs quivered, and heat pooled between them. My breathing grew frantic; I bit my lip, trying to stay silent.

　　Carl chuckled darkly and pressed harder, faster. I couldn't stop the cry that tore from my throat.

　　Tears slid down my cheeks as I trembled under his hand, my body shaking with betrayal. And then—release.

　　Warm wetness spilled from me as I climaxed, my mind going blank, my muscles giving out entirely.

　　Carl pulled away, his touch vanishing. My thighs trembled, my entire body limp and drained.

　　I thought he would take me then, force himself inside—but he didn't.

　　Instead, he sat back, his jaw tight, his eyes cold and unreadable.

　　I curled into myself again, arms wrapped around my chest, finally free of his grasp—but not the fear.

　　My mind drifted back to the night we became mates—a night that had felt like sweet torment, one that left me breathless and aching in ways I couldn't explain. I had surrendered to him then. I had wanted him.

　　But not now. Not like this. I don't crave him anymore.

　　His tenderness? Never meant for me. That was always Katherine.

　　"Cut it out. Don't look at me like that," Carl snapped. "It's not like I actually f****d you."

　　"I was just teaching you a lesson, so you'd quit losing it on me all the time. You think I wanted this?

　　"And God, look at your body. So bony it's depressing. Like hugging a damn skeleton."

　　He kept going, eyes full of disgust as he stared at me, naked and exposed. I lowered my head, trying to block out his words.

　　This wasn't the usual him. He wasn't acting cold and silent like before, but somehow, it felt even worse.

　　My clothes had been torn up by him, and I didn't dare move an inch.

　　Eventually, he seemed to notice I had nothing on. He took off his jacket and tossed it at me. "Put it on."

　　I took it without a word and wrapped it around my thin frame.

　　He kept staring, that mocking smile growing sharper. "Don't you hate me? So why are you even wearing my clothes? You act like I disgust you, like you couldn't run far enough from me—this monster of a werewolf."

　　"You tore my clothes," I lifted my head slowly, voice full of dry sarcasm. "Guess that means I get to wear yours now. Or would you actually prefer me walking around naked?"

　　"Sharp tongue as always, Eleanor," Carl gave a low chuckle. "But you're only allowed to follow my rules now."

　　He wasn't wrong. So I shut up. That's pretty much been my go-to lately—just acting like he doesn't exist. Silence was safer. Especially with him. I couldn't trust what I'd do if I kept talking.

　　Neither of us said another word the whole way back to his private villa. As soon as we got there, I headed straight upstairs and tossed his coat aside like it burned.

　　After a shower and a quick lie-down, nearly an hour had passed.

　　"Luna," a knock came from outside, one of the staff. "Alpha's been waiting a while."

　　I took a deep breath, opened the door, and forced myself downstairs to face Carl.

　　The servant silently led me into the dining room. Carl was already sitting there, water glass in hand like nothing had happened.

　　"I'm planning to go back to campus tomorrow," I said, sitting down and grabbing a strip of bacon.

　　I didn't bring up the whole bond thing. After how unhinged he'd been today, it was clear I needed a better play—something subtle.

　　Carl scoffed. "You do realize that plagiarism mess blew up, right? And you still want to go back?"

　　"Exactly," I replied calmly, chewing as I talked. "I've got work to finish. I'm getting that diploma, one way or another."

　　"Think whatever you want," Carl suddenly snapped, slamming his cup down hard before storming upstairs.

　　His face looked like thunder, like something I'd said just hit a nerve. I raised an eyebrow, totally confused.

　　Still, seeing him that pissed off weirdly made me feel a lot better.

　　"What the hell is Carl freaking out about now?" I tilted my head, still puzzled. "Does he seriously think I shouldn't even try going back to the academy?"

　　I couldn't wrap my head around his need to control everything I did. He used to barely care, and now he wants to be all up in my business?

　　I finished my dinner slowly, like I had all the time in the world, then headed upstairs too.

　　*****

　　Next morning, I left early, just told the housekeeper where I was going.

　　The design academy wasn't exactly close to the Stormfang Pack, so the ride took a while.

　　As soon as I stepped on campus, someone shouted, "Eleanor's here!"

　　That one yell drew all eyes to me. "No way, is that Eleanor? She actually showed up?!"

　　"She basically trashed the academy's rep... what a joke."

　　Keeping a straight face, I walked toward the entrance as a wave of nasty whispers and insults crashed over me.

　　They were clearly shocked to see me, but mostly, there was so much disgust in their eyes.

　　I hadn't set foot in the design academy for a whole month. Ever since the plagiarism scandal blew up, I'd dragged a ton of negative press onto the school. They clearly didn't want me around anymore. But today, I had no choice—I had to come sign some papers agreeing to the academy's punishment.

　　The Starluxe Competition was the biggest deal out there—everyone knew it was the gold standard.

　　Being accused of plagiarism during the finals? Yeah, that hit like a truck. The fallout was brutal. If it weren't for my track record—stacked scholarships and top achievements as a top werewolf designer—I would've been booted out without a second thought.

　　I slowed down, automatically glancing at the familiar faces of the werewolf students who used to praise me. Now they looked different—some disappointed, some mocking, most just flat-out furious.

　　Even if things weren't how they imagined, it didn't matter. In their eyes, I was scum. A disgrace to the academy. A shameless werewolf who should've just disappeared.

　　"There she is," someone muttered under their breath. "Quick, shut the door. Don't let her in. Gross!"

　　I was just about to reach the studio door when that hit me. Before I even got close, the door slammed hard in my face.

　　My chest tightened. I reached out, giving the door a soft push—it didn't budge.

　　Then came the voices—snappy and angry, two female werewolves, no mistaking the disgust in their tone.

　　"Damn it, get lost! We don't want fakes who steal others' work in our academy!"

　　"Yeah, you should be ashamed! You stole Katherine's boyfriend, secretly became Carl's mate, and now you're even plagiarizing her work? Seriously, I've never seen a more shameless and toxic wolf than you."

　　They were Katherine's friends—Phoebe Finch and Poppy Harrington. As far back as I can remember, those two were always glued to Katherine.

　　The day Carl and I became mates, Phoebe and Poppy blasted a bunch of photos of Carl and Katherine all over campus, dragging me for "stealing" him. They hurled insults at me, claiming I used my grandfather's death to guilt the Stormfang Pack into making me Luna.

　　Back when I was doing well at the academy, a lot of wolves had my back. No one bought into those lies. But now that I've been labeled a plagiarist, they all fell silent—no one's standing up for me anymore. They're just joining Phoebe and Poppy, piling on.

　　Still... not everyone turned away.

　　"Phoebe, Poppy, that's enough! Whether Eleanor comes back or not isn't your business."

　　"We believe she didn't copy anyone. I saw her design—it screams her style. Why does it have to be Katherine's? What if Katherine copied Eleanor instead, huh?"

　　"Get out!" Chaos erupted from inside the room.

　　Voices rose fast—it turned into a mess of yelling and fighting. I heard screams, angry shouts. Sounds like Phoebe and Poppy were dragged away. I reached for the door again—this time, it opened.

　　A few werewolves were tussling like maniacs on the floor while Phoebe stood nearby, totally losing it and yelling all kinds of stuff.

　　The moment I stepped in, Poppy's face twisted into a smug, nasty grin. My gut told me something was off, but it was too late to back out.

　　She whipped out a bottle of filthy water—clearly had it ready for this—and hurled it straight at me. It hit my head, soaking my hair with some sickening stench.

　　"Hahaha!" Poppy tossed the empty bottle aside, laughing so hard her face turned red.

　　The fighting and quiet werewolves all froze and backed away.

　　"Ugh, what the hell is that smell?!"

　　"I'm gonna puke—it's worse than a public toilet!"

　　I slowly lifted my head and stared coldly at Poppy's twisted smirk.

　　She crossed her arms and gave me a mocking look. "What, mad? Then hit me if you've got the guts!"

　　My fists clenched tight. That urge to snap? It was boiling over.

　　"Eleanor! If you hit her, you'll get expelled for real—don't do it!" A nearby werewolf shouted anxiously.

　　I froze for a split second, and it hit me—Poppy did this on purpose. She wanted me to snap, to mess up completely. But if I laid a finger on her now, I'd be finished. No coming back from that.

　　"You shut your filthy mouth," Poppy snapped, realizing I hadn't fallen for her act. She shot a murderous glare at the wolf who dared to warn me, then stormed up to me, jabbing a finger in my face. "Skanks like you seriously have no shame..."

　　"What is going on here?!" A furious shout came from outside the room.

　　The wolves instantly stepped aside. "Professor Donovan!"

　　Leo Donovan walked in at just the right moment, his face dark with anger as he took in the scene—his eyes bounced between Poppy and me, sharp and accusing.

　　The look he gave me was a painful mix of confusion and disappointment.

　　I pressed my lips together, the bitterness rising in my throat.

　　Once, I'd been the student he was most proud of. Now, all I brought him was disgrace.

　　"Eleanor," he sighed, voice low but heavy, "come with me. Let's talk in my office—about your withdrawal."

　　That look in his eyes made me want to disappear.

　　But right now, I had no other choice.