Luna Rejects Her Traitor Mate

The sound of tires on gravel jolted me awake at dawn. My wolf stirred inside me, instantly alert. *Something's wrong*, she whispered in my mind.

I slipped from our bed, careful not to wake Isaac. The morning light filtered through the curtains as I padded to the window. A sleek black car had pulled up to our pack house, and from it emerged a figure I recognized instantly.

Mazie Fox.

My mate's childhood sweetheart clutched a bundle to her chest—a newborn pup. Her golden hair caught the early sunlight as she lifted her face toward our bedroom window. Our eyes met briefly before she smiled and turned away.

"Isaac!" I called, turning back to our bed. "Someone's here."

But the space beside me was empty. Isaac had already left.

By the time I reached the entrance hall, Isaac was there, his training gear abandoned in a heap by the door. He stood too close to Mazie, his eyes fixed on the tiny bundle in her arms.

"I came as soon as I heard," he said softly, reaching out to touch the pup's cheek with a gentleness I hadn't seen in months.

Mazie's eyes glistened with tears. "The birth was... difficult. The rogue... he left us. I had nowhere else to go."

My wolf bristled. *She's lying. Or hiding something.*

"You'll stay here," Isaac declared, his voice carrying that Alpha tone he rarely used with me. "You need pack protection, recovery time."

I stepped forward. "Isaac, shouldn't we discuss—"

"There's nothing to discuss," he cut me off without even looking in my direction. "Mazie needs our help."

*Our help?* My wolf growled. *Not our pack house. Not our home.*

---

"I need you to vacate the Luna suite by noon," Isaac announced two hours later, his voice clipped as he stood in our bedroom doorway.

I stared at him. "What?"

"Mazie needs proper accommodation for her recovery. The Luna suite has the best light, the most space for the cradle." He spoke as if this were the most reasonable request in the world. "You can move your things to the guest quarters at the end of the hall."

My wolf clawed at my insides. "Those are Omega quarters."

"You'll manage," he said dismissively. "Mazie needs the space more than you do right now."

I watched him pace as he continued outlining Mazie's requirements. "The room temperature needs to be kept at exactly seventy-two degrees. She prefers lavender oil in her bath—the French kind, not the cheap stuff from the market. Her meals need to be prepared separately; she can't tolerate garlic or onion in her food right now."

Each detail felt like a knife twisting in my chest. He'd never bothered to learn my preferences with such care.

"Oh, and make sure no one disturbs her during her afternoon rest," he added. "Complete privacy is essential for her recovery."

From the hallway came Eleanor's voice, high with excitement. "The finest linens from the cedar chest, Isaac? Yes, perfect for our dear Mazie."

I stepped into the corridor to find my mother-in-law pulling out the ceremonial pack linens—the ones meant for Luna ceremonies and celebrations.

"These haven't been used since your father became Alpha," Eleanor said, her eyes bright as she smoothed the silk over her arm. "But Mazie deserves the best we can offer."

"Thank you, Eleanor," Mazie said from behind her. She stood in the doorway of what had been my suite, cradling her pup. "Your generosity means everything."

Eleanor beamed at her. "Finally, a wolf who understands her maternal duties."

The barb was clearly aimed at me. My empty womb had been Eleanor's favorite topic for years.

My wolf snarled. *She's not Luna. I am.*

But neither of them seemed to care.

---

The sun had long set when I heard Isaac's footsteps climbing the stairs. He'd spent the entire day arranging Mazie's room, bringing her tea, adjusting her pillows. Now he carried a tray of food.

"Isaac," I called softly as he passed me in the hallway. "We should talk."

He barely glanced at me. "Later, Charlotte. Mazie needs her dinner."

I followed him to the Luna suite—my suite—and watched from the doorway as he set the tray on her bedside table. The room smelled of her perfume now, not mine.

"I made your favorite," he told her. "Remember how we used to sneak out to that little café when we were pups?"

Mazie smiled up at him, her hand finding his. "You always remembered the extra cinnamon."

"That's because I pay attention," he said softly.

I stood in the hallway, invisible to them both, as they reminisced about shared memories I knew nothing about. My wolf paced restlessly within me, her agitation building with each passing minute.

*He's ours,* she growled. *Our mate. Our Alpha.*

But as the night wore on, and Isaac continued to adjust Mazie's bedding, fetch her water, and sit beside her bed listening to her stories, I felt something inside me crack.

My wolf no longer howled in protest. She went quiet—dangerously quiet.

And in that silence, something new began to stir.