After Eight Years, My Mate Chose Her

The frost in my veins was finally melting. For eight years, I had been trapped in the dark, suspended in experimental cryogenic stasis to halt a terminal disease that was eating me alive. I had willingly surrendered to the ice, trusting that my dormant wolf would heal, and trusting that my fated mate would be waiting for me when I woke up.

My inner wolf stirred for the first time in nearly a decade. She stretched lazily in the back of my mind, but her first instinct wasn't to check our healing body. It was a desperate, primal yearning. *Mate,* she whimpered, pacing wildly. *We need our mate.*

The heavy metal door of the pack hospital room hissed open. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I pushed myself up against the sterile white pillows.

Vincent stepped into the room. He was just as breathtaking as the day I went under, though his jaw was sharper, his shoulders broader. He radiated the overwhelming, intoxicating scent of rain and pine that always made my knees weak. I opened my mouth to call out to him, tears of sheer relief welling in my eyes.

But he didn't rush to my bedside. He didn't pull me into his arms. He just stood there, his face an unreadable mask of cold indifference.

Then, someone stepped out from behind his massive frame.

My breath caught in my throat. It was Amber, the daughter of our former pack Omega housekeeper. Her hand slid possessively up Vincent’s chest, her fingers curling into his shirt. But what made the blood freeze in my veins all over again was the heavy, silver-and-sapphire necklace resting against her collarbone. It was my ancestral Luna jewelry. The necklace Vincent had clasped around my neck on our wedding night.

"Vincent?" my voice cracked, raw and unused. I stared at him, begging for an explanation. "What is she doing here? Why is she wearing my necklace?"

Vincent’s jaw tightened, but he didn't answer.

Panic clawed at my chest. I needed an anchor. I needed the one piece of my soul that was pure. "Where is Colter?" I begged, my voice trembling. "Please, Vincent. I want to see my son. He was just a newborn... I need to see my baby."

Vincent gave a sharp nod to the hallway. A young boy stepped tentatively into the doorway.

He was eight years old. He had Vincent's dark, unruly hair and the same stubborn tilt to his chin. My heart swelled with an agonizing amount of love. I pushed the thin hospital blanket aside, ignoring how weak and shaky my legs felt.

"Colter," I breathed, holding my trembling arms out to him. "My sweet boy. Come here. Come to Mommy."

Colter’s eyes went wide with terror. He didn't run to me. Instead, he scrambled backward, violently shrinking away from my outstretched hands. He darted behind Amber, grabbing handfuls of her dress and burying his face in her side.

"Colter?" I whispered, the sound breaking into a sob.

"Mom, who is she?" Colter cried out, his little voice muffled against Amber’s waist. "Make her go away! Her scent is wrong. It smells like ice and medicine!"

"Hush, sweet pup," Amber cooed, running her hand through my son's hair. She looked at me, her eyes flashing with a sickening, triumphant gleam. "Mommy is right here. I won't let the scary lady hurt you."

"You're my only real mom, Amber," Colter sobbed, refusing to even look at me.

The words hit me like physical blows. My own flesh and blood. The baby I had sung to in the womb, the child I had gone into the ice to survive for, was looking at me like I was a monster.

"No," I gasped, fresh tears spilling down my cheeks. "No, Colter, I'm your mother!"

I tried to step forward, desperately reaching out through the fated mate bond to Vincent, begging him silently to fix this. I expected to feel the warm, comforting rush of our souls connecting. Instead, I hit a wall of jagged, impenetrable ice. The bond was frayed, neglected, and bleeding.

"Vincent, tell him!" I pleaded, looking at the man I loved. "Tell him who I am!"

"Enough!" Vincent roared.

He didn't just raise his voice; he unleashed his Alpha tone. The room instantly filled with his crushing, domineering aura. The sheer weight of his Alpha power slammed into my weakened body like a freight train. My dormant, fragile wolf whimpered in terror as my knees buckled. I collapsed onto the cold linoleum floor, gasping for air under the suffocating pressure of his command.

I looked up at my fated mate from the floor, my vision blurring with tears.

"You have been gone for eight years, Elora," Vincent sneered, looking down at me as if I were nothing more than a rogue trespassing on his land. "The Blood Moon Pack needed a Luna. My son needed a mother. Amber stepped up when you abandoned us for that freezing tube."

"I did it to survive!" I cried out, my throat burning. "I did it for you! For us!"

"And we moved on," he said coldly, his voice vibrating with absolute authority. "By my right as Alpha, I officially strip you of the Luna title. You are nothing but a ghost in this pack. You will pack your things and move to the Omega quarters immediately. Amber is the true Luna now."

He turned his back on me, scooping my son into his arms, and walked out the door with Amber trailing closely behind. She paused just long enough to glance back at me, a wicked smirk playing on her lips, before the heavy metal door clicked shut, leaving me entirely alone in the freezing ashes of my broken life.