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My Mate Watched Me Get Beaten by His Mistress
My Mate Watched Me Get Beaten by His Mistress

My Mate Watched Me Get Beaten by His Mistress

by Ava Loraine
13 Chapters
Completed
In the werewolf romance My Mate Watched Me Get Beaten by His Mistress, a peaceful evening in the Silverfang pack house shatters when a violent mind-link leak exposes a betrayal. Discover the truth behind these leaked images in this gripping fantasy novel available to read online.

My Mate Watched Me Get Beaten by His Mistress Summary

Betrayal cuts deeper than any physical wound for a werewolf whose fated mate remains a silent observer during her brutal assault. Instead of protecting his bond, he stands by as his mistress unleashes her cruelty upon his rightful partner. This heartbreaking tale explores the agony of rejection and the shattering of sacred ties. Faced with a mate's cold indifference and a rival's malice, a broken wolf must find the strength to survive the ultimate domestic treachery.
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Chapter 1 of My Mate Watched Me Get Beaten by His Mistress

The evening was perfectly ordinary in the Silverfang pack house. I was sitting on the velvet sofa in the common room, sipping tea and scrolling through my phone.

Then, the mind-link exploded.

It wasn't a voice. It was a violent flood of images, broadcasted anonymously to every allied pack channel at once. My phone buzzed fiercely in my hand, syncing with the mental barrage. I blinked, trying to process the sudden influx of data.

Screenshots. Dozens of them.

A man was on his knees. A heavy leather collar was strapped tight around his neck. He was looking up at a camera with a submissive, eager expression.

It was Corey.

My fated mate. The man I had fought my Alpha father to elevate. The low-ranking wolf I had bought a house for, pouring my own inheritance into our future.

My stomach violently twisted. The tea sloshed over the rim of my cup, burning my fingers. I scrolled down, my hands trembling uncontrollably. In the next frame, a woman’s hand rested on his head, petting his hair. I didn't need to see her face. I recognized the heavy, dark metal rings on her fingers from the inter-pack summit photos.

Alpha Saanvi Vargas of the Black Moon Pack.

The pack house erupted. Whispers turned into shouts. Members stared at their phones, then slowly turned their heads to look at me. Pity and shock radiated from them.

Heavy footsteps thundered down the stairs. My father, Alpha Gerald, stormed into the room. His Alpha aura flared with a terrifying, protective fury that rattled the windows. "Blakely!" he roared.

But I was already moving. I dropped the cup and bolted out the front door before he could stop me.

I didn't need a map. My grandfather had trained me to track since I was a pup. I shifted my senses, pulling in the night air. I found the sickening scent of the cheap cologne Corey always wore. Now I knew why he used it so heavily. It wasn't just a preference. It was a shield to mask the smell of another woman. To mask Saanvi.

The trail led me away from our territory to a luxury hotel just across the border, sitting on neutral ground. I ignored the lobby staff, pushing past the velvet ropes, and took the stairs two at a time. Fourth floor. Room 412.

I didn't knock. I lifted my leg and kicked the heavy double doors with all my strength. The wood splintered, and the lock shattered.

I froze in the doorway.

The room was bathed in the harsh, blinding glare of a ring light. A professional camera sat on a tripod. Corey was on the floor, mid-stream, wearing nothing but the collar from the photos.

But that wasn't what stopped my heart.

Saanvi Vargas lounged on the king-sized bed. She wore a crimson silk robe, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders. And resting against her bare collarbone, catching the harsh light, was a heavy silver necklace.

My grandfather’s Alpha crest medallion.

The most sacred relic of the Adams bloodline. The ultimate symbol of my trust, which I had placed around Corey's neck just months ago.

"Give it back," I whispered. My voice shook, but not from fear. It was sheer, unadulterated rage.

Corey scrambled backward, knocking over a light stand. His face went pale with shock, then flushed bright red with shame. "Blakely," he stammered, raising his hands. "It's... it's not what it looks like. This is just work. I'm just building a following."

"You gave her my grandfather's medallion," I said, stepping into the room.

Corey's expression shifted. The panic faded, replaced by a cold, hard calculation. He didn't reach for a towel. He didn't look sorry. He looked at Saanvi, checking her reaction before he looked back at me. "She appreciates its value," he said, his jaw setting. "More than your father ever appreciated me."

Saanvi didn't even sit up. She tilted her head and studied me with flat, empty contempt. She stroked the silver medallion with one manicured finger. "Is this the little mate?" she asked. Her voice was smooth and bored.

"Take it off," I snarled. My inner wolf clawed at my chest, demanding blood. "Now."

Saanvi sighed. She didn't look at me anymore. She looked at the massive man standing silently by the bathroom door. Reza Okafor. Her Gamma.

"Remove her," Saanvi ordered. Just two words.

Reza lunged. Three other enforcers stepped out from the shadows of the suite. They grabbed my arms.

I fought back. I am an Alpha's daughter. My blood burns hot and strong. I twisted, throwing my weight back, and slammed my elbow into Reza’s face. I heard his nose crack. Warm blood sprayed across the expensive wallpaper.

"Bitch!" Reza barked, wiping his face.

But I was outnumbered. Four trained warriors against one she-wolf. They dragged me out of the suite and threw me into the hallway. I hit the floor hard. Before I could stand, a heavy boot slammed into my ribs.

The air left my lungs in a violent rush. Then came the fists.

They beat me systematically. Brutally. I curled into a ball, trying to protect my head and vital organs. Blood filled my mouth, thick and metallic. My vision blurred into a dizzying mess of colors and shadows.

Through the open doorway, past the boots kicking my spine, I saw him.

Corey.

He stood inside the room. He wasn't restrained. He wasn't fighting. He just stood there, watching his fated mate get beaten to death. He didn't make a sound. He didn't even look away.

That was the exact moment it happened.

The mate bond inside my chest didn't just snap. It rotted.

I physically felt it turn into something toxic, leaking black poison into my soul. The pain was worse than the broken ribs. It was a deep, spiritual agony that sank into my bones, suffocating my inner wolf.

A human maid screamed at the end of the hall. "Hey! I'm calling the police!"

The kicking stopped. Footsteps retreated rapidly. The suite door slammed shut, locking me out.

I lay on the cold hotel carpet, choking on my own blood. My fingers twitched, reaching for a medallion that was no longer mine.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Time slipped away into a dark haze. Then, familiar scents surrounded me. Pine and winter air. Silverfang warriors. Strong arms scooped me up.

"Hold on, Blakely. We've got you. Stay with us!"

I opened my eyes to the blinding white lights of the pack hospital ceiling moving quickly past me. The frantic beeping of machines. The shouting of healers. But I couldn't feel my hands or my legs. I could only feel the rotting bond in my chest, festering like an open wound.

I closed my eyes, letting the crushing darkness pull me under.

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