His Betrayed Omega The Bond She Rejected

On the night of my mother-in-law's Moon Jubilee—her fiftieth year honored beneath the full moon—my mate's Omega assistant sent me a photograph.

In it, the pack matriarch lay crumpled inside an iron cage, her mouth a ruin of blood where her teeth had been torn out.

My hands shook as I reached through the pack link, my voice raw: "Aria Duskthorn, what have you done?"

Her cold laugh echoed back through the connection.

"You dare ask me? The Alpha just established a new border outpost, and you send this withered old she-wolf to beg scraps from his table. Is your bloodline truly so desperate?"

"Let me be clear—the Alpha granted me stewardship of that outpost. Anyone who tries to take what's mine will suffer the same fate."

I could barely breathe. "Have you lost your mind? This is Fenris Blackmoor's mother!"

Aria's voice dripped with contempt.

"The Alpha himself told me—your mother is your burden, his mother is his. He's never once considered your dam part of his pack."

1.

Fenris was known throughout the territories as a devoted son. How could Aria dare treat the Alpha's own mother this way? Then it struck me—she believed she had captured my mother instead.

Before I could respond, she severed the link.

I didn't waste another heartbeat. I reached for Fenris through our thinning bond.

"Fenris, your mother—Aria attacked her. You need to get to the outpost now—"

"Enough. I already know what you're going to say."

His voice cut through like winter wind. "I think Aria was right to discipline her."

I froze. "What did you say?"

He let out a weary sigh.

"Lyra, we may share a mating bond, but your mother needs to understand boundaries. She can't spend her days trying to leech off my territory and my holdings."

My chest tightened. "You don't understand—she's your—"

"I said enough!"

His impatience flared through what remained of our connection.

"So what if she's my mate's mother? I have no obligation to tolerate her greed."

"Today she shows up at my outpost begging for scraps. Tomorrow she'll come to the Central Den demanding tribute."

"Aria teaching her a lesson, making her remember her place—it's a kindness, really."

His words turned my desperate heart to ice.

My mother was a humble countryside wolf, low in rank but rich in honor. She had never taken what wasn't freely given, and she had treated Fenris like her own blood.

When Fenris was still a young wolf fighting to establish his territory, resources stretched thin and alliances uncertain, my mother gave him everything she had saved across her lifetime without a moment's hesitation.

Knowing his stomach troubled him—an old wound from those lean years—she would prepare healing broths and restorative herbs, traveling days across dangerous territory to bring them to him herself.

Yet this woman who had loved him like a son was now, in his telling, nothing but a shameless beggar who deserved whatever punishment she received.

Something hollow opened in my chest. My voice went flat.

"Fenris, I'm asking you to go to the outpost and check on your mother. She raised you. She deserves that much."

His fury exploded through the bond.

"Lyra Ashenvale, have you gone mad? When did your mother ever raise me?"

"No wonder Aria couldn't hold back from punishing her. With a daughter like you, she deserves every bit of pain she gets."

"Tonight is my mother's Moon Jubilee—her fiftieth year. I'm preparing the gathering in her honor. I don't have time for your chaos."

"If you have any sense left, you'll stay out of this and let your mother learn her lesson."

The bond went silent as he cut the connection.

Moments later, a message arrived through the pack's formal channels:

"The Moon Jubilee gathering begins at the Grand Lodge in one hour. Make yourself presentable before you arrive. Don't embarrass me the way your mother does."

I stared at the words for a long moment.

Then I sent back a single response: "Understood."

If you, her own son, wanted me to stay out of it—

Then why should I keep trying?

One hour later, I changed into ceremonial attire and made my way to the Grand Lodge.

The great hall had been transformed. Moonflowers cascaded from every pillar, their pale petals catching the light of a hundred floating lanterns. Silver ribbons wound through arrangements of night-blooming jasmine, and at the center of it all stood a towering display of gifts wrapped in the Blackmoor colors.

It was clear Fenris had spared nothing for his mother's honor. Every detail spoke of devotion, of a son who cherished the woman who had given him life.