After My Mate Gave Our Son to His Mistress

The pack mind-link hummed with activity, a constant buzz of voices that Jaxxon deliberately left open for me to hear. Each word was a knife twisting in my chest.

"Attention, everyone," Elena's voice rang out, using my healing tone that I'd perfected over years. "I need volunteers for the eastern border patrol. The new formation I designed requires precise positioning."

My formation. My design. Stolen like everything else.

"Your leadership is inspiring, Elena," Beta Ryan's voice responded. "The pack hasn't been this organized since..."

"Since Scarlett went mad," another voice finished.

I pressed my forehead against the cold stone wall, trying to block them out, but the silver chains only enhanced the link, not weakened it. Jaxxon had ensured I could hear every moment of my replacement.

"Mommy Elena! Mommy Elena!"

Eliam's voice pierced through the others, so pure and innocent it made my heart crack further.

"What is it, my little soldier?" Elena cooed.

"Can I have more dessert? You always let me have more dessert."

"That's right, sweetheart. Unlike your real mother, I actually care about what makes you happy."

I bit my lip until I tasted blood, fighting back sobs. My baby. My Eliam. Calling her "Mommy."

---

"Scarlett?"

The voice was barely a whisper. I raised my head, blinking away tears as a young Delta guard approached my cell. His eyes darted nervously to the door.

"What time is it?" My voice was hoarse from disuse.

"Just after midnight," he murmured, checking the corridor again. "I shouldn't be talking to you."

"Why are you then?"

He swallowed hard. "I have a grandmother in the Omega quarters. She... she reminded me of you. Kind eyes."

Something in his expression made my stomach clench. "What happened?"

"Your mother..." He glanced at the floor. "She passed yesterday evening."

The world tilted sideways. "No. No, that's not possible. She was healthy."

"Diabetes," he whispered. "Elena denied her insulin rations last month. Said it was a waste of resources for an old Omega."

The silver chains rattled as I lunged forward. "You're lying!"

"Check the death records yourself if you ever get out of here," he said, backing away. "Elena signed the denial order personally."

I collapsed against the wall, my mind reeling. My mother—the woman who had taught me everything about healing, who had sacrificed her own position to ensure I could pursue my gifts—had died alone in pain because Elena saw her as expendable.

"Scarlett?" The guard's voice seemed distant now. "I'm sorry. I thought you should know."

---

Something inside me broke.

It wasn't a physical sound, though it started that way—a low moan that built in my throat. But as it rose, it transformed into something else entirely.

Luna, nearly dormant from the silver's influence, suddenly surged forward. Our grief merged, our rage became one entity of pure, raw energy.

The scream that tore from my lips wasn't human. It wasn't wolf. It was something primal—a mother's anguish, a daughter's fury, a healer's despair.

It bypassed the silver's suppression. It transcended the physical realm.

It became a psychic weapon.

The scream echoed through the pack link, shattering the calm evening atmosphere above. I felt it ripple outward, crossing territories, mountains, rivers—searching for someone who would hear.

Someone who would care.

---

Sawyer Henry jolted awake, his body drenched in sweat despite the cool night air.

"Scarlett," he whispered into the darkness of his bedroom.

The scream had pierced through his consciousness like a blade of ice, carrying with it fragments of agony so intense they left him gasping.

"Alpha?" His Beta called from the hallway, alerted by his sudden movement.

"I need the strike team ready in ten minutes," Sawyer growled, already pulling on clothes. "We're breaching Shadow Moon territory tonight."

"Sir? The treaty—"

"Fuck the treaty," Sawyer snarled, his eyes flashing with primal fury. "My mate is dying."

---

The dungeon door splintered inward with a deafening crash. Shouts and growls filled the small space as dark figures poured in.

I couldn't move, couldn't speak. The psychic scream had drained what little strength I had left.

"Find her!" A voice commanded—a voice that stirred something deep within me.

Then he was there, kneeling before me. Even in the dim torchlight, I could see the fury etched into his features, the concern in his eyes.

"Sawyer," I whispered, recognition dawning through the haze of pain.

"Scarlett." His hands trembled as he reached for the silver chains. "Hold on."

With a roar that shook the walls, he seized the chains and tore them from the stone as if they were made of paper. The silver links clattered to the floor as he caught me before I could fall.

"I've got you," he murmured against my hair. "You're safe now."

I felt his arms tighten around me as he lifted me effortlessly. Behind him, his strike team secured the area, their movements efficient and deadly.

"This isn't over," Sawyer growled, his voice carrying a promise of vengeance that echoed through the Shadow Moon pack house. "Not by a long shot."

As consciousness slipped away, I felt something stir within me—something that had been dormant for too long.

A connection. A bond.

A second chance.