After My Mate Chose His Mistress as Luna

Rosalina left before noon with Edith Crane's address and a Council subpoena folded in her jacket pocket.

I stayed at her kitchen table. The blood vial sat on the counter where she'd left it, labeled and sealed, waiting for courier pickup to the Lycan King's court. My name was written on it in Rosalina's precise handwriting. Abigail Voss. Healer certification. Routine paperwork, she'd said.

I pressed two fingers to my neck. The mark was still cold.

Rosalina returned three hours later. She set a thick file on the table between us and sat down without taking off her coat.

"Edith Crane kept records," she said.

I looked at the file. It was old, the edges worn soft from years of handling. My name was written on the tab.

"Ten years of medical documentation," Rosalina continued. Her voice was steady, but her hands weren't. "Every time you came to her complaining about fatigue. Every time your wolf went quieter. Every symptom she flagged as 'bond strain' and never investigated further."

I opened the file. The first page was dated three months after James marked me. Patient presents with chronic exhaustion and diminished wolf presence. Likely bond strain due to mate's terminal condition. Recommend continued rest and bond-channeled healing.

My throat tightened.

"She didn't know," Rosalina said quietly. "Edith genuinely believed James's Decay was real. She treated you for bond strain because that's what the symptoms looked like when a Healer mate is sustaining a dying wolf. She had no reason to question the diagnosis."

I turned the page. Another entry. Another notation of my wolf's suppression. Another recommendation to continue healing through the bond.

"But she knows now," Rosalina said. "I showed her the evidence. Derek's testimony. James's own words in that corridor. She went silent for a full minute. Then she said—" Rosalina paused. Her jaw tightened. "She said, 'I helped him do this to her.'"

I closed the file. My hands were shaking.

"She's testifying," Rosalina said. "Voluntarily. Before the Council. She broke pack loyalty on the spot, Abby. She's furious."

I looked up at her. "Will it be enough?"

"Yes." Rosalina's voice was flat and certain. "Edith's records establish a decade-long pattern of Healer exploitation under false medical pretenses. Combined with Derek's testimony and your own account, we have everything we need to strip James of Alpha credibility permanently."

I nodded. My fingers found the dead mark again.

Rosalina reached across the table and covered my hand with hers. "We're going to destroy him," she said again.

This time, I believed her.

The knock came two days later.

I was alone in Rosalina's guest room when I heard it—three sharp raps on the front door, authoritative and impatient. I moved to the window and looked down at the street.

My mother stood on the doorstep.

Mariam Voss. Retired Beta female. The wolf who had raised me alone after my father left, who had taught me that endurance was love and stability was survival. Who had told me, year after year, to hold the bond together for the pack's sake.

I hadn't seen her since the rejection.

Rosalina opened the door. I heard their voices—low, tense—and then footsteps on the stairs. My mother appeared in the doorway. She looked older than I remembered. Tired.

Her eyes went to my neck. To the ash-gray mark.

She flinched.

"Abby," she said quietly.

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. For a long moment, we just stood there. Then she sat down on the edge of the bed, her hands folded in her lap.

"I went to Ironwood," she said.

My chest tightened.

"I thought—" She stopped. Took a breath. "I thought I could help. Broker some kind of peace. I still believed that endurance was the answer. That if you just came back and talked to him, maybe—"

"Mom," I said. My voice cracked.

"Let me finish." Her hands clenched. "I found James in the infirmary. He was lying there, complaining about 'minor fatigue from pack stress.' I tried to suggest he'd acted too hastily. That maybe you both needed time to calm down and discuss things."

I closed my eyes.

"He used the Alpha tone on me," she said.

My eyes snapped open.

"He commanded me—a retired Beta female, your mother—to carry a message back to you. To tell you to return and 'discuss the bond's future.' Like I was some errand wolf. Like you were some disobedient pack member he could summon at will."

Her voice was shaking now.

"I shifted," she said. "Right there in the infirmary. My wolf pinned him by the throat against the wall. I told him exactly what he was. A parasite. A coward. A man who used the Moon Goddess's gift as a theft instrument."

I stared at her.

"He couldn't even fight back," she continued. "He just choked beneath my jaws while the pack members in the room watched. Then I released him. Shifted back. And walked out of Ironwood territory."

Silence filled the room.

"I told you to endure," she said finally. Her voice was barely a whisper. "For years, I told you to hold that bond together. To sacrifice for the pack's stability. I was wrong, Abby. I was so wrong."

I sat down beside her. My hands were shaking.

She reached into her jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Rosalina gave me this downstairs," she said. "Your tribunal petition."

She unfolded it and read. Every page. Every line. Her jaw tightened with each paragraph.

When she finished, she looked at me. "What do you need?"

I pressed two fingers to my dead mark. "Help me end it," I said.

She nodded once. Then she stood, walked to Rosalina's desk, and picked up a pen.

"Tell me where to sign," she said.

I showed her. She signed her name—Mariam Voss, former Beta of Clearwater Pack, mother of Abigail Voss—in the witness section. Her handwriting was firm and precise.

Then she set the pen down and turned to me.

"I should have done this ten years ago," she said.

"You're doing it now," I replied.

She pulled me into her arms. I let her. For the first time since the rejection, I let someone hold me while I shook.

When she finally released me, she cupped my face in her hands. "You're going to be okay," she said.

I didn't believe her yet.

But I wanted to.