After My Mate Chose His Omega Over Me

I slide another index card across the polished mahogany table toward Arthur's water glass. The numbers are precise—territorial yield projections for the next fiscal quarter, broken down by hunting grounds and border security costs. Numbers I spent three nights calculating while he slept.

Arthur doesn't even glance at the card. He's too busy flashing that practiced smile at the Royal Territory Commission delegates, his Alpha aura filling the conference room like expensive cologne. "As you can see, gentlemen, the Aurora Pack has demonstrated exceptional growth potential. Our strategic initiatives have positioned us as ideal stewards for the northern expansion."

Our strategic initiatives. My wolf stirs restlessly beneath my skin, a low growl vibrating in my chest that I suppress with practiced ease. Five years of this. Five years of being the invisible hand that built his empire while he played king.

"Impressive rhetoric, Alpha Ford," Commissioner Davies says, his weathered face skeptical. "But what are your actual revenue projections for integrating three new satellite territories?"

Arthur's smile falters for a fraction of a second. His hand reaches for the card I've positioned perfectly within reach. "Well, our projections indicate—"

The conference room door opens with a soft click. Livia enters carrying a silver tray, her Omega scent—usually mild lavender—suddenly spiking with something sweeter, headier. My Lycan senses, the ones I keep carefully dampened to maintain my Luna disguise, flare involuntarily.

She moves around the table with practiced grace, setting coffee cups before each delegate. But when she reaches Arthur, she lingers. Her hip brushes his shoulder as she leans to place his cup down. The touch is brief, casual to anyone not paying attention.

I'm always paying attention.

"Thank you, Livia," Arthur murmurs, and his hand—the same hand that marked my neck five years ago in our mating ceremony—grazes her waist.

That's when it hits me.

The mind-link slams into my consciousness like a physical blow, bypassing every mental shield I've constructed. It's not directed at me—it's a slip, an accidental broadcast from someone whose mental discipline is as weak as her loyalty.

The vision unfolds in vivid, nauseating detail:

Arthur and Livia in the pack greenhouse, surrounded by climbing roses I planted two springs ago. Her back against the potting table. His mouth on her neck. Her voice, breathy and triumphant: "Once that grant money hits your account, you can finally get rid of her. She's so frigid, always buried in paperwork. Doesn't she realize an Alpha needs a real woman?"

Arthur's laugh, low and cruel: "Patience, baby. Once we secure the Royal funding, I'll make you Luna. Taytum served her purpose—her father's connections opened doors. But you're right. A real Alpha deserves a mate who worships him."

The vision snaps off as abruptly as it appeared.

I'm still sitting in my chair, my hand frozen on my own coffee cup. The delegates are discussing something—border patrol logistics, maybe—but their voices sound like they're coming from underwater. My enhanced Lycan hearing, usually so controlled, now picks up everything with agonizing clarity: Arthur's elevated heart rate. Livia's excited breathing as she exits the room. The commingled scent of their arousal still clinging to his suit jacket.

How did I miss it? How many times had they—

My wolf howls inside my mind, a sound of pure betrayal and rage. I force her down with iron will, the same will that's kept my true identity hidden for five years. The same will that convinced me Arthur Ford was worth sacrificing my throne for.

"Luna Taytum?" Commissioner Davies is looking at me with concern. "Are you quite alright?"

I realize I've been staring at Arthur for too long. His expression shows mild irritation, nothing more. He has no idea I know. No idea that his Omega's pathetic mental shields just destroyed five years of carefully constructed lies.

"Migraine," I say, my voice steady despite the earthquake happening inside my chest. "Please excuse me, gentlemen. Alpha Ford can handle the remainder of the presentation."

I stand with the grace my royal upbringing drilled into me, even as my world crumbles. Arthur barely glances my way, already turning back to the delegates with that charming smile. He doesn't need me anymore. He never really did—he just needed my father's money and my strategic mind.

Both of which he's about to lose.

I walk to my office with measured steps, my heels clicking against marble floors I personally selected during the pack house renovation. Everything here, I built. Every success he's claimed, I engineered.

The moment my office door locks behind me, I drop every mental barrier I've maintained since leaving the Lycan Kingdom. My aura expands, filling the soundproofed room with raw Lycan power that would bring any regular wolf to their knees.

I reach for the one mind-link I've kept dormant for five years.

*Father.*

Alpha King James's response is immediate, his mental voice carrying the weight of ancient royal authority. *Daughter. This is unexpected.*

*You win the wager.* The words taste like ash in my mouth, but I force them out with cold precision. *He is not worthy. He never was.*

A pause. Then, carefully: *What do you need?*

*Freeze the territory grant. Immediately. And cut all shell-company funding to the Aurora Pack. Every account, every investment, every resource I've funneled to him under corporate aliases.* My voice doesn't waver. *I want him to understand exactly what he's losing.*

*Consider it done.* There's no judgment in my father's tone, only the ruthless efficiency of a king who's been waiting five years for this moment. *When will you come home?*

*Soon.* I open my eyes, staring at the framed photo on my desk—Arthur and me at our mating ceremony, both of us smiling at a future that never existed. *But first, I'm going to watch him fall.*

I end the link and allow myself exactly sixty seconds to feel the pain. Sixty seconds to let tears fall for the mate bond I believed in, for the assistant I mentored, for the five years I wasted building someone else's dream.

Then I wipe my face, reapply my lipstick, and begin planning the systematic destruction of everything Alpha Arthur Ford holds dear.

Starting with the empire I built for him.