He Banished Me But Sheltered His Mistress

The car hummed steadily as we drove toward the pack council headquarters. I stared out the window, watching the landscape blur past. Today was supposed to be the day—the day we would officially begin the process of severing our mate bond. Despite everything, a small part of me had hoped Atticus would change his mind, would suddenly realize what he was losing.

"We should be there in twenty minutes," Atticus said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. His voice was neutral, as if we were discussing a routine pack meeting rather than the dissolution of our sacred bond.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. My wolf paced restlessly within me, still angry from our confrontation days earlier.

Atticus's phone rang suddenly, the sound piercing the tense silence between us. He glanced at the screen and frowned.

"Leila," he answered, his voice instantly softer than it had been moments before.

I watched his expression change as he listened—concern replacing the cold indifference he'd shown me for months.

"What? Slow down," he said, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. "Where is she now?"

My stomach twisted as I realized what was happening.

"She's at the hospital," he continued, already slowing the car. "We'll be right there."

"Atticus," I began cautiously, "we have the meeting—"

"Leila's mother attempted suicide," he cut me off, his voice tight with worry. "She needs me."

The car screeched to a halt at the side of the road. Before I could process what was happening, Atticus turned to me, his eyes already distant.

"You need to get out here," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"What? You can't be serious." I stared at him in disbelief. "We're in the middle of nowhere!"

"Jane," he snapped, his Alpha tone vibrating through the car. "This is an emergency. Leila needs me."

"And what about me?" I whispered, hating the tremor in my voice. "What about our meeting?"

He didn't even hesitate. "You can find your own way to the council. Or reschedule."

With that, he pushed me out of the car and sped away, leaving me standing alone on the dusty roadside.

* * *

It took me nearly two hours to reach the pack hospital, my feet blistered and my pride in tatters. But I refused to be defeated—not today.

As I pushed through the hospital doors, the first thing I saw was Atticus in the lobby, his arm around a weeping Leila. His other hand held her mother's chart as he spoke urgently to a doctor.

"—and make sure she gets the best care possible," he was saying. "Whatever she needs."

I stood frozen, watching as he pulled out his wallet and handed over his credit card without even checking the amount.

"Put everything on my account," he instructed the receptionist. "No expense spared."

The words echoed in my mind—"no expense spared." Just days ago, he'd called my parents' medical needs "inefficient resource allocation."

Leila looked up then, her tear-streaked face finding mine across the lobby. For just a moment, something like triumph flashed in her eyes before she buried her face in Atticus's chest again.

"Thank you," she sobbed. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

Atticus's hand stroked her hair gently. "You don't have to thank me," he murmured. "I'll always be here for you."

Always be here for her. The words cut deeper than any knife.

* * *

Three days later, I returned to the pack house to collect my belongings. The house was quiet as I moved through the familiar hallways, packing my clothes and personal items.

I froze at the sound of voices coming from the kitchen. Cautiously, I moved closer.

"—just until you're feeling better," Atticus was saying, his voice gentle. "The guest room is all set up."

"You're too good to me," Leila replied softly.

I peered around the corner and saw them—Atticus standing at the stove, stirring something that filled the kitchen with a warm, savory aroma. Leila sat at the counter, watching him with undisguised adoration.

I must have made some small sound because Atticus turned suddenly, his eyes widening when he saw me.

"Jane," he said, surprise evident in his voice. "You're back."

"What is she doing here?" I asked, nodding toward Leila.

Atticus straightened, his expression hardening. "Leila needs somewhere to stay while her mother recovers. As Alpha, I've granted her temporary residence in the pack house."

"For her emotional recovery," Leila added softly, her eyes meeting mine with barely concealed satisfaction.

I looked between them—Atticus at the stove, a dish towel in his hand, preparing food for another woman in what should have been our home.

In three years of marriage, he had never once cooked for me.