My Mate Cast Me Out for His Mistress’s Lies

The Alpha summons came through the pack link like ice water down my spine.

I'm Audrey Freeman, Luna of the Silvermoon Pack—though that title feels more like a noose around my neck these days than any kind of honor. My hands pause mid-carve on the wooden wolf I've been working on, the chisel trembling slightly as Alexander's command reverberates through every cell in my body. Come to my study. Now.

Seven years. Seven years since he marked me, since I became his Luna, since I foolishly believed our shared trauma had forged an unbreakable bond. How naive I was.

The walk to his study feels like a death march. Pack members avert their eyes as I pass—they know. Everyone knows about Emberly Nelson, the rogue she-wolf who's been warming my mate's bed for months now. The whispers follow me like ghosts, but I keep my spine straight, my chin up. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

Not yet.

I knock once before entering, and the scene that greets me steals what little breath I have left.

Emberly is lounging in my chair—the Luna's chair beside Alexander's desk—like she belongs there. Her hand rests on her belly, stroking it in slow, possessive circles. The smile she gives me is pure venom wrapped in honey.

"Audrey." Alexander doesn't look up from the papers on his desk. His voice is flat, businesslike, as if I'm just another pack member and not the woman whose neck bears his mark. "Close the door."

I do, and immediately his Alpha aura slams into me like a physical wall. My knees buckle slightly, my wolf whimpering and pressing herself low in submission. He's never used his Alpha command on me like this before—not even during our worst fights.

"I have a project for you," he says, finally meeting my eyes. Those green eyes that once looked at me with such tenderness now hold nothing but cold indifference. "Since you've failed to provide the pack with an heir, you can at least make yourself useful."

The words hit like a slap, but I force myself to remain still, to breathe.

Emberly's smile widens. "Alexander wants you to create something special for me. For us." She stands, running her hands down her body, emphasizing the small swell of her stomach. "A life-sized maternity sculpture. Something beautiful to commemorate the future Alpha heir I'm carrying."

My wolf howls in agony inside me, the sound so piercing I'm surprised they can't hear it. But I keep my face carefully blank.

"You want me to..." I can barely form the words. "To sculpt her?"

"It's not a request, Audrey." Alexander's Alpha tone intensifies, pressing down on me until I can barely stand. "You owe this pack. You owe me. Since you can't give me children, the least you can do is honor the woman who can."

Emberly moves closer, her perfume—roses and something sickeningly sweet—invading my space. "I want it perfect, Audrey. Every curve, every detail. After all, you're so talented with your hands." She pauses, her voice dropping to a cruel whisper. "Though I suppose that's all you're good for anymore."

I want to run. I want to scream. I want to reject this bond right here, right now, and watch Alexander feel even a fraction of the pain that's tearing me apart.

But I don't.

Instead, I hear myself say, "When do you need it finished?"

Alexander finally smiles, but there's no warmth in it. "Two weeks. And Audrey? Make it worthy of a true Luna."

The dismissal is clear. I turn mechanically, my body moving on autopilot as I leave his study. The walk back to my workshop passes in a blur of held-back tears and barely suppressed rage.

My workshop—the one place that's always been mine, my sanctuary—now feels contaminated by what I have to create here. I pull out a fresh block of clay, my hands shaking so badly I nearly drop it.

The door opens behind me, and Emberly saunters in, already positioning herself on the modeling platform.

"Well?" She strikes a pose, one hand on her hip, the other cradling her belly. "Don't you want to capture every detail of what a real woman looks like?"

I begin to work, my fingers moving through the clay even as my vision blurs with unshed tears. Every curve I shape feels like carving out pieces of my own heart.

"You know what's funny?" Emberly's voice drips with false sympathy. "Alexander is so passionate with me. He says my name over and over when we're together. Sometimes I wonder if he even remembers yours."

My wolf whimpers again, a sound of pure anguish that echoes through my soul.

"He should have chosen a real woman from the start," she continues, examining her nails. "Not some barren, broken thing who can't even keep her mate interested."

That night, alone in my workshop with the half-formed sculpture mocking me from its stand, I finally reach for the one lifeline I have left.

Roman. I push the thought through our sibling mind-link, the connection we've had since childhood. Roman, I can't do this anymore.

His response is immediate, urgent. Audrey? What happened?

I tell him everything—the sculpture, Emberly's cruelty, Alexander's cold command. When I finish, the silence stretches so long I think the connection has broken.

Then: I'm going to get you out of here, sis. I promise. Just hold on a little longer.

I look at the sculpture, at Emberly's smug clay face, and make my decision.

I'm going to reject the bond, Roman. I'm done being his Luna.

The words feel like both a death sentence and a declaration of freedom.