After My Mate Crowned His Mistress as Luna

The cold marble floor bit into my knees as I knelt before Alpha Cassius's desk. I'm Violeta Gomez, an Omega in the Silver Moon Pack—though that title feels more like a brand than a rank. For three years, I've been invisible to everyone except when they need someone to scrub floors or fetch wine. But to him, to my fated mate who pretends I don't exist, I'm something worse. I'm a secret he's ashamed of.

"Begin," Cassius commanded, his voice sharp as broken glass.

My hands trembled as I dipped the quill into the ink pot. The parchment before me was cream-colored and expensive, imported from the Eastern territories. Ninety-nine ancient mating vows. Each one a promise he'd make to her. To Amora.

Not to me.

The mate bond twisted in my chest like a knife turning slowly. I could feel him watching me, testing whether I'd break. My wolf whimpered somewhere deep inside, so faint I could barely hear her anymore. She'd been silent for months now, retreating from the constant rejection.

"Your hand is shaking, Omega." His tone dropped lower, laced with that Alpha command that made my spine lock straight against my will. "Steady it."

My body obeyed before my mind could protest. The trembling stopped. I hated how easily he controlled me, how the Alpha tone stripped away my choice. I focused on the first vow, forcing my perfect penmanship to flow across the page.

*I vow to cherish you above all others, to place your happiness before my own...*

The scent of my own distress leaked into the air—bitter almonds and burnt sugar. It mixed with the sharp tang of ink, creating something acrid that made my eyes water. Cassius inhaled deeply, and I knew he was savoring my pain. Some sick part of him needed to know the bond still affected me, that I still felt every moment he chose her over me.

"Faster," he said. "The ceremony is in three days."

Three days. Seventy-two hours until he'd stand before the pack and mark Amora as his Luna. Until whatever fragile thread still connected us would snap completely.

I wrote faster.

---

The pack hall buzzed with celebration that evening. Long tables groaned under platters of roasted meat and fresh bread. Wolves laughed and drank, toasting to their Alpha's upcoming mating ceremony. I stood against the wall, holding the stack of transcribed vows, trying to be invisible.

Amora glided through the crowd in a crimson dress that hugged every curve. She was beautiful—everyone said so. High cheekbones, glossy dark hair, and an aura that commanded attention. Everything an Alpha's mate should be.

Everything I wasn't.

She approached the head table where Cassius sat, her smile bright and false. Then, as if by accident, she stumbled. Red wine arced through the air in slow motion, splashing across the parchment in my hands.

The vows bled into illegible smears.

"Oh no!" Amora gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth. "The vows! Violeta, what have you done?"

My stomach dropped. "I didn't—"

"You sabotaged them!" Her voice rose, drawing every eye in the hall. "You're jealous that Alpha Cassius chose me, so you ruined our ceremony!"

"That's not true," I whispered, but my voice was too small, too weak.

Cassius stood, his face carved from stone. "Violeta."

The way he said my name—like it tasted rotten—made something inside me crack.

"Clean it up," he ordered. "Now. With your clothes."

Shame burned through me, hot and suffocating. The pack watched, some smirking, others looking away in secondhand embarrassment. I dropped to my knees and pressed my sleeve against the wine-soaked parchment, feeling the liquid soak through to my skin.

Amora crouched beside me, her perfume overwhelming—roses and something chemical underneath. Her lips brushed my ear.

"I know your secret, little Omega," she whispered, so soft only I could hear. "And soon, you won't be a problem anymore."

Ice flooded my veins. She couldn't mean the mate bond—everyone assumed I was just another lowly Omega. So what secret? What did she know that I didn't?

---

An hour later, I descended the stone steps into the dungeon, sent to fetch more wine for the celebration above. The air grew colder with each step, damp and heavy with the smell of earth and old blood.

Voices echoed from the storage room ahead.

"—masking the royal scent is temporary," a raspy female voice said. "You need the real source eliminated."

"I know that, Elena." Amora's voice, sharp with irritation. "Why do you think I'm paying you?"

I pressed myself against the wall, barely breathing.

"The White Wolf must die tonight," the witch continued. "Once her bloodline is extinguished, no one can challenge your claim to the Lycan throne. The potion will hold permanently."

White Wolf. Lycan throne. Royal scent.

The words crashed over me like ice water. Amora wasn't just stealing Cassius—she was stealing an identity. Someone's identity. Someone royal.

Footsteps approached. I turned to run, but Penny appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide with panic.

"Violeta," she hissed, grabbing my arm. "The border guards—Amora ordered them away from the northern pass. You need to run. Now."

"What? Why would—"

"Because she's going to kill you tonight." Penny's fingers dug into my skin. "Please. Run."

Behind me, the storage room door creaked open.