After My Mate Rejected Me for His Mistress

The video message arrived at 3 a.m., jolting me awake with its harsh blue glow. I fumbled for my phone, my heart already racing before I even saw the screen.

Johnny's face filled the frame, bruised and bloodied. Behind him, shadows moved—rogues, their eyes gleaming in the darkness. My mate looked small, pathetic even, his Alpha aura completely absent.

"Luna." His voice cracked. "They want everything. The treasury. The northern territory deed. Bring it to the borderlands by dawn, or they'll—" A fist connected with his jaw, and the video cut out.

I sat there in the dark, my phone trembling in my hands. Inside me, something stirred. Aria. My wolf. She'd been silent for so long I'd almost forgotten her voice.

*Let him rot,* she growled.

But duty was a chain I'd worn for ten years. I couldn't just break it because I wanted to.

I dressed quickly, pulling on jeans and a sweater, my fingers moving on autopilot. The pack house was silent as I made my way to Johnny's office. The safe combination hadn't changed—he was too lazy for that. Inside, stacks of cash, bonds, and the ancient deed to our northern territory, signed in blood by the pack's founders.

My hands shook as I stuffed everything into a leather bag.

"Going somewhere?"

I spun around. Margaret stood in the doorway, her silk robe pulled tight, her face twisted with suspicion.

"Johnny's been taken," I said, keeping my voice level. "They want ransom."

"And you're stealing from us to save your own skin." She stepped closer, her scent sour with accusation. "I always knew you were a coward. A weak, barren—"

"Enough."

The word came out different than I'd intended. Deeper. Commanding. My Alpha voice, rusty from disuse but still sharp enough to cut.

Margaret's mouth snapped shut, her eyes going wide. For the first time in ten years, she looked at me and saw something other than a doormat.

I walked past her without another word.

The borderlands were exactly as desolate as I remembered—a stretch of scrubland where pack territories blurred into neutral ground. Dawn was breaking, painting the sky in shades of blood and ash. I parked my car and grabbed the bag, my wolf pacing restlessly inside me.

*Something's wrong,* Aria whispered.

She was right. The air smelled wrong. Not like fear and violence, but like... whiskey and cheap perfume.

I found them in a canvas tent near the tree line. Johnny sat in a camp chair, a beer in his hand, laughing at something the Rogue Alpha said. No bruises. No blood. Just my mate, relaxed and comfortable, while Sylvie perched on his lap like a satisfied cat.

The bag slipped from my fingers.

"Luna!" Johnny's grin was all teeth, no warmth. "Right on time. I knew you'd come through."

"You weren't kidnapped." My voice sounded distant, like it belonged to someone else.

"Kidnapped?" He laughed, and Sylvie giggled into his neck. "God, you're even dumber than I thought. This was business, sweetheart. Marcus here helped me set up a little... retirement plan."

The Rogue Alpha—Marcus—raised his beer in mock salute.

"You see," Johnny continued, standing and dumping Sylvie onto the chair, "I'm done playing Alpha to a failing pack. Done pretending you're anything but dead weight. Sylvie and I are starting fresh somewhere warm. Somewhere far from your barren womb and your pathetic attempts at leadership."

Each word was a knife, but I felt nothing. Just cold, spreading clarity.

"The pack—"

"Can rot for all I care. You wanted to play Luna so badly? Congratulations. It's all yours. The debt, the failing alliances, the whole mess." He picked up the bag, rifling through it with greedy fingers. "This should set us up nicely."

Sylvie wrapped herself around his arm. "We'll send a postcard, Luna. Oh wait—you won't have money for a mailbox."

I turned and walked away. Behind me, their laughter echoed across the empty land.

By the time I reached the pack house, they'd beaten me there. The entire pack was gathered in the main hall, summoned by some invisible signal. Johnny stood on the raised platform where we'd held ceremonies, where I'd stood beside him for ten years, supporting his weight.

Sylvie clung to his side, her smile vicious.

"I, Alpha Johnny Davis of the Silver Creek Pack," he announced, his voice carrying that false authority I'd propped up for so long, "reject you, Luna Morrison, as my mate and Luna."

The bond snapped.

Pain exploded through my chest, white-hot and all-consuming. It felt like my soul was being torn in half, like every cell in my body was screaming. I fell to my knees, gasping.

But then—

Aria surged forward, roaring with a fury that shook my bones. Power flooded through me, raw and ancient, the Alpha strength I'd buried for a decade. The pain was still there, but it was fuel now. Fire instead of ice.

I stood.

The room went silent. Even Johnny's smirk faltered.

"I accept your rejection, Johnny Davis." My voice was steady, cold as winter steel. "And I will watch you burn for this."

Something in my tone made him step back. Made Sylvie's smile slip. Made the gathered pack members shift uncomfortably.

Good.

Let them be afraid.