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After My Alpha Chose His Mistress Over Me Novel Cover

After My Alpha Chose His Mistress Over Me

Five years after vanishing to Europe, Macy Edwards returns to the pack with a mission: remind the Omega of her place. But this Omega is no servant—she's the Alpha's chosen mate, and her wolf Nova refuses to bow. As Macy's honeyed venom drips through every word and stolen glance, the pack house becomes a battlefield. One woman must decide: surrender to the shadows or fight for the mate her wolf already claimed.
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Chapter 3

The news about the emergency pack meeting reached me through Caden, who was no longer inside those walls but still had eyes there.

Three senior members had asked about the treasury shortfall. Two more had asked about the missing alliance records. Rome had used Alpha tone to shut the room down before the fourth question could finish forming.

Caden's text said only: *Compliance was instant. Resentment wasn't.*

And then: *They noticed my empty seat.*

I read it twice. Set the phone face-down on the table. Sera moved inside me — not restless this time, but deliberate. Like she was taking inventory.

*Good,* she said.

I didn't answer her. I poured another cup of coffee and went back to the alliance contracts.

---

The clinic confrontation happened on a Thursday.

I know it was Thursday because I had a call scheduled with Alpha Garrett's trade liaison at two o'clock, and I was still in the neutral-territory parking lot outside the clinic when my phone buzzed with a reminder. I had come only to pick up a healer's verification letter — a routine document I needed for one of the transferred contracts. Nothing dramatic. Nothing planned.

Maisy was already there.

I saw her the moment I turned the corner — standing just outside the clinic entrance with two of her she-wolves from the birth pack, her voice carrying that particular soft, wounded pitch she deployed like a weather system. A small crowd had gathered. Pack members. Witnesses. The arrangement of it was too neat to be accidental.

Then she saw me.

What happened next took less than four seconds.

She went down.

Not a stumble. Not a trip. A full, theatrical collapse, both hands flying to her stomach, a cry that split the air sharp enough to turn every head in the lot. "She pushed me!" The words came out wet and immediate, before she had even finished falling. "Lana — she pushed me — my pup —"

The crowd turned.

I stood completely still.

The pack healer — a soft-spoken woman named Dr. Vance who had always been cordial to me — appeared in the clinic doorway. She looked at Maisy on the ground. She looked at me. Something moved across her face that I recognized: the calculation of someone who had already been told what to say.

"I saw it," Dr. Vance said quietly. "Miss Mitchell was right behind her."

The lie landed in the crowd like a stone in still water.

I heard Rome before I saw him. His footsteps on the pavement — fast, heavy, the particular rhythm of an Alpha who had been summoned and arrived already furious. He came around the corner and stopped. Took in Maisy on the ground. Took in the crowd. Took in me.

He didn't ask a single question.

"Lana."

One word. But it wasn't a word. It was the Alpha tone — the full weight of it, dropped on my name like a hammer — and my body responded before my mind could refuse. My knees hit the pavement.

The pain wasn't physical. It was something older and more humiliating than that: the involuntary surrender of a wolf forced down by authority she no longer owed anything to. Five years of standing beside him. Five years of building everything he stood on. And this was what he reached for. This was the first thing.

The crowd was very quiet.

I stared at the pavement. My hands were flat against the ground. I could feel the cold of it through my palms.

Sera did not howl in pain.

She howled in finality. A long, clean sound that had nothing grief left in it — only the closing of a door that had already been shut.

When the tone released, I rose.

Slowly. Deliberately. One knee, then the other, then standing straight, my spine finding itself the way it always did when I had decided something I could not take back.

I looked at Rome.

He was watching me with an expression I had never seen on him before — something caught between righteous certainty and the first hairline crack of doubt. Maisy was still weeping softly on the ground. Dr. Vance had crouched beside her. The crowd stood in a ring, perfectly still.

I said nothing.

I held Rome's eyes for three seconds. Long enough. Then I turned and walked to my car, unlocked it, got in, and drove away.

---

Anika was on the porch when I got back to the safehouse. She had her mug. She took one look at my face and set it down.

"Don't," I said, before she could speak.

She didn't.

I went inside. Changed into the clothes I kept for shifting — an old pair of leggings, a worn t-shirt. Came back out into the small garden behind the house where the grass ran down to the treeline and the half moon sat low and pale above the firs.

I shifted.

It was the first time since the rejection, and I had expected it to hurt. It didn't. It was the opposite of hurt. It was the sensation of a breath held for five years finally, completely, released.

Sera came out silver-white and luminous in the half-dark — not the dim, careful shape she had been for years, but something full and radiant and formidable, her fur catching the moonlight like she was made of it. I felt the power move through her like a current, clean and enormous, and I understood in my body what I had only known abstractly in my mind: I had been hiding this. I had been hiding *her.* For five years, I had kept this locked away so that Rome would never have to stand beside something that outshone him.

I heard Anika make a sound from the porch. Not a word. Just a sound — quiet and involuntary, the kind that escapes when something is more than you were prepared for.

I ran. Into the treeline, through the dark, fast and silver and entirely myself.

When I came back and shifted to human form, I was standing in the wet grass with bare feet and my hands at my sides, and the tears came without warning — not from grief, not from pain, but from something rawer than either.

Five years.

I had kept her in the dark for five years.

Anika was beside me before I heard her move. She didn't say anything. She just stood close, her shoulder against mine, and let me cry in the dark until I was done.

It didn't take long.

When I was finished, I wiped my face with the back of my hand and looked up at the half moon.

"I need Maisy's healer records," I said. My voice was steady. "From her birth pack. Whatever they have on her."

Anika was quiet for a moment.

"I might know someone," she said carefully.

I nodded. "Find them."

Sera settled inside me, warm and silver and finally, fully awake.

We weren't done yet. We were just beginning.

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