Alpha's Mistress's Deception

The sterile scent of disinfectant couldn't mask the betrayal that hung thick in the air as I stepped into the pack hospital. I'd come to check on our medical supplies—a routine Luna duty that Porter had been too busy to handle lately. Now I understood why.

Through the partially open door of room 314, I saw them. My mate, Alpha Porter Hamilton, sat beside Sloan Dixon's hospital bed with a tenderness I hadn't witnessed in years. His large hands cradled a bowl of soup, carefully bringing each spoonful to her lips as if she were made of precious glass. When she smiled weakly at him, he brushed a strand of auburn hair from her forehead, his fingers lingering against her skin.

My wolf, Luna, whimpered in my chest. *That should be us,* she whispered, her pain echoing through our bond.

I gripped the doorframe, my knuckles white. Eight years. Eight years of marriage, and he'd never once fed me when I was sick. Never stroked my hair with such reverence. The memory of last month's flu, when I'd lain in our bed burning with fever while he attended pack meetings, felt like a fresh wound.

"Porter." My voice cut through their intimate moment like a blade.

He jerked away from Sloan as if caught stealing, the spoon clattering against the bowl. Sloan's green eyes widened with mock surprise, though I caught the satisfied gleam beneath her feigned innocence.

"Alexis." Porter's tone held no warmth, no guilt—only irritation at being interrupted. "What are you doing here?"

"Checking on hospital supplies. My Luna duties, remember?" I stepped into the room, my gaze shifting between them. "Though I see you're quite... occupied. How is your mother, by the way? She's been asking for you. Room 201, if you've forgotten."

Porter's jaw tightened. "Mother is fine. Sloan needed—"

"What Sloan needs," I interrupted, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "is to remember her place in this pack."

Sloan's hand fluttered to her throat, a gesture I'd seen her use countless times to appear vulnerable. "Luna Alexis, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to trouble the Alpha, but I've been feeling so weak lately, and—"

"Save it." I turned my attention back to Porter, whose dark eyes had hardened. "Your mother's condition is deteriorating. The doctors say she needs family support, but I suppose pack members take priority now."

Porter stood abruptly, his six-foot frame towering over me. "Don't you dare question my priorities. You have no idea what responsibilities I'm managing."

"Responsibilities?" A bitter laugh escaped me. "Is that what we're calling this?"

Before Porter could respond, the soft whir of wheelchair wheels announced another presence. Luna Mother appeared in the doorway, her steel-gray hair perfectly coiffed despite her hospital stay. Her sharp blue eyes took in the scene with calculating precision.

"Alexis." Her voice carried the authority of her former Luna status. "How dare you harass your Alpha and a sick pack member? Have you no shame?"

The accusation hit me like a physical blow. "Shame? I'm checking on my husband's welfare, and—"

"Your husband is tending to pack business," Luna Mother snapped, maneuvering her wheelchair closer to Sloan's bed. "Something you've failed to understand in eight years of marriage. A true Luna supports her Alpha's decisions, especially when it comes to ensuring the pack's future."

The emphasis on 'future' wasn't lost on me. My hand unconsciously moved to my flat stomach, the familiar ache of inadequacy settling in my chest. Eight years of trying, eight years of monthly disappointments, eight years of whispered accusations that I was barren.

"Mother," Porter's voice held a warning, but his eyes remained cold when they met mine.

"No, Porter. She needs to hear this." Luna Mother's gaze never left my face. "Sloan has been nothing but respectful and helpful to this pack. Unlike some people, she understands her duties."

Sloan's lips curved in the faintest smile, quickly hidden behind a cough. "Please, Luna Mother, don't upset yourself on my account. I'm sure Luna Alexis is just... concerned."

The false sweetness in her voice made my skin crawl. This wasn't coincidence—this was orchestrated. The way she positioned herself in the bed, the timing of Luna Mother's arrival, even Porter's defensive stance. They'd been planning this.

"You're right, Mother," Porter said finally, his Alpha aura pressing against me like a suffocating blanket. "Alexis, you're clearly overwrought. Perhaps you should return to the pack house and rest."

Dismissal. In front of a pack member and his mother, he was dismissing me like a child having a tantrum.

Luna stirred restlessly in my chest, her golden eyes flashing behind mine. *We are Luna,* she growled. *We bow to no one.*

I straightened my spine, letting my own aura unfurl—not the gentle, nurturing presence of a traditional Luna, but something sharper, more dangerous. Something that reminded everyone present that I carried Alpha blood in my veins.

"How thoughtful of you to be so... attentive to pack members, husband." The word dripped with venom. "I'll be sure to mention your dedication at tonight's pack dinner. I'm certain everyone will be interested to hear about your hands-on approach to pack welfare."

Porter's face darkened, but before he could respond, I turned on my heel and walked away, my head held high despite the trembling in my hands.

Behind me, I heard Luna Mother's voice, sharp with satisfaction: "Finally, someone who appreciates proper pack hierarchy."

The words followed me down the corridor like poison, but I didn't look back. I couldn't. Because if I did, they'd see the tears threatening to fall, and I refused to give them that satisfaction.

Not yet.