After My Mate Chose His Mistress Over Me

The laughter and chatter of pack game night filled the Crescent Ridge Pack House as I walked in hand-in-hand with Ryan. His fingers were loosely intertwined with mine, a casual touch that should have felt reassuring but instead felt hollow. Two years ago, that same touch would have sent electricity racing up my arm. Now, it was just skin against skin.

"Ready for some fun, babe?" Ryan's voice carried that slight edge it often had lately—like he was already bored with whatever response I might give.

I forced a smile. "Of course."

Inside my head, Lyra, my silver wolf, paced restlessly. *Something feels off tonight,* she whispered.

*It's just game night,* I assured her, though the knot in my stomach suggested otherwise.

Alpha Marcus Thorne stood at the center of the main hall, his commanding presence drawing everyone's attention. "Welcome to our monthly pack bonding night," he announced, his deep voice resonating through the room. "Tonight, we're honored to have members from both Crescent Ridge and Shadowpine joining us."

My eyes drifted to where Chloe Stevens stood across the room. Her gaze flicked between Ryan and me, a small smile playing at her lips. She wore a fitted top that accentuated her curves, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders in perfect waves. Ryan's childhood friend. Always present. Always watching.

"First exercise," Alpha Marcus called out, "trust falls! Partner up!"

I turned to Ryan, but he was already scanning the room. "I'll go with Chloe," he announced, dropping my hand. "She's been working on her trust issues."

Lyra growled low in my mind. *Again?*

I stood alone as pairs formed around me, the sting of rejection burning hot on my cheeks. This wasn't the first time Ryan had chosen Chloe over me during pack activities, but it felt more pointed tonight, more deliberate.

"Madison, join me and Eleanor," Alpha Marcus called, noticing my isolation. His mate, Eleanor—my mother—gave me a sympathetic smile that made my chest ache. They knew. Everyone knew something was wrong with my mate bond.

As I walked over to them, I caught sight of Ryan standing behind Chloe, his hands resting on her shoulders as she prepared to fall backward into his arms. The ease between them, the familiarity in how his fingers squeezed her shoulders before she fell—it was all wrong.

*He never touches us like that anymore,* Lyra observed, her voice tinged with hurt.

The trust falls gave way to the scent-matching relay, a traditional werewolf game where pairs had to identify each other's scents among dozens of samples. I was paired with my mother this time, while Ryan and Chloe remained together, their heads bent close as they whispered and laughed.

We were halfway through the relay when it happened.

Chloe's voice burst through the group mind-link, a theatrical announcement that froze everyone in place: *I'm pregnant with Ryan's pup!*

Laughter rippled through the room—everyone assuming it was a joke, a playful jab during game night. But Lyra howled in my mind, a sound so piercing and pained that I physically flinched.

*It's true,* my wolf whimpered. *I can smell it on her. Their combined essence.*

The room fell silent as my reaction registered on my face. My mother's hand found mine, squeezing tight. Ryan's eyes met mine across the room, and in that moment, I knew. This was no joke.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of forced smiles and mechanical participation. When the games finally ended, I couldn't get outside fast enough, gulping down the cool night air as if I'd been drowning.

Ryan and Chloe emerged shortly after, standing too close. The night had turned chilly, and I wrapped my arms around myself, suppressing a shiver.

"Cold?" Ryan asked, his tone casual, almost indifferent.

Before I could respond, he shrugged off his leather jacket—the one I'd given him for his birthday—and draped it over Chloe's shoulders. She snuggled into it with a satisfied smile, her eyes meeting mine in a silent challenge.

Every wolf knew what that gesture meant. A male offering his clothing, carrying his scent, to a female was a public declaration of protection and claim. And he'd done it right in front of me, his supposed mate.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, my voice barely above a whisper.

Ryan shrugged, his expression maddeningly casual. "She's cold."

"And I'm your mate," I said, Lyra's anger bleeding into my voice.

"Madison..." He sighed, as if I were being unreasonable. "It's just a jacket."

But it wasn't just a jacket. And that wasn't just a joke during the game. As Chloe's hand slipped possessively into the crook of Ryan's arm, the truth I'd been denying for months crystallized with painful clarity.

My mate had betrayed me in the most fundamental way possible. And my wolf knew, with devastating certainty, that our bond was already broken.