My Alpha Forced Me to Serve His Pregnant Mistress

The candles had burned down to stubborn nubs of wax, pooling onto the white linen tablecloth I had ironed myself. Across from me, the chair remained empty. The prime rib, seasoned with the rosemary I’d grown in the pack garden, was cold and gray.

Three years. Today marked the third anniversary of the day Alpha Brody Watkins marked me, binding my soul to his in front of the Moon Goddess and the Silverclaw Pack. It was supposed to be a celebration. Instead, it was a wake for a marriage that had died long ago.

My phone buzzed against the mahogany table, the vibration harsh in the silence of the dining room. My heart stuttered, a foolish flicker of hope rising in my chest. Maybe he was just late. Maybe there was a rogue attack at the border.

I unlocked the screen, and the hope died, strangled by the image that loaded.

It was a live photo. My mate, my husband, was throwing his head back in laughter, a bottle of beer in one hand. But it was his other hand that froze the blood in my veins. It was wrapped possessively around the waist of a woman I didn’t recognize, her face buried in his neck. They were at The Stray Dog, a notorious bar on the edge of our territory where rogues and low-ranked wolves mingled.

Another message popped up below the photo.

*"Loyalty Test Level 1: Wait for me. A good Luna knows patience."*

My wolf, Lexi, whimpered in the back of my mind, curling into a tight ball of misery. She didn’t have the strength to growl anymore. The bond between us and Brody had become a rusted chain, dragging us through the mud.

"He's testing us again," I whispered to the empty room.

I didn't sleep. I sat there as the moon climbed high and then dipped low, surrendering to the gray light of dawn. I was a Healer; I knew how to bandage wounds and mix salves for broken bones, but there was no herb in my garden that could fix this.

At 7:00 AM, the heavy oak front door didn't just open; it was kicked in.

The sound echoed like a gunshot. I stood up, my legs stiff from hours of immobility. Brody strode into the foyer, bringing the stench of stale whiskey, cigarette smoke, and cloying, cheap vanilla perfume with him.

He wasn't alone.

"Come on, babe. Don't be shy," Brody slurred, his voice rough. He yanked a woman into the house.

It was the girl from the photo. She was young, perhaps nineteen, with dyed blonde hair and a smirk that told me she knew exactly who I was. She wore a tight red dress that left little to the imagination, and her hand rested protectively, theatrically, over her flat stomach.

"Brody," I said, my voice steady despite the trembling of my hands. "It is the morning of our anniversary."

"Happy anniversary, Violette," he sneered, kicking the door shut behind him. He looked at me with eyes that used to hold warmth but now only held contempt. "I brought you a present. Or rather, I brought the pack a present."

He pushed the girl forward. "This is Allie Palmer. And unlike you, she actually knows what a she-wolf is supposed to do."

Maren, the head housekeeper, had quietly entered the room to clear the untouched dinner. She froze, clutching a dirty plate to her chest.

"Allie is pregnant," Brody announced, his voice booming so it carried through the halls. "She is carrying my heir. The future Alpha of Silverclaw."

The air left the room. My knees threatened to buckle, but I locked them. Sterile. Barren. Broken. The words Gloria, his mother, had whispered in my ear for years now screamed in my head.

Allie looked me up and down, her nose wrinkling. "So this is the Healer? She looks... tired."

"She's useless," Brody corrected her. "Maren! Move Violette's things to the guest room down the hall. The one facing the woods. Allie will be taking the Master Suite. She needs the comfort for the pup."

"No," I said. The word was quiet, but it hung heavy in the air.

Brody’s head snapped toward me. "Excuse me?"

I took a step forward, drawing on every ounce of dignity I had left. "Pack Law, Section Four. The Master Suite is the designated residence of the Alpha and the Luna. I am the Luna of this pack, Brody. You cannot move a mistress into the ritual chambers."

Brody’s eyes flashed a dangerous, glowing amber. The air around him crackled with ozone and aggression. He released Allie’s hand and stalked toward me. He didn't look like my husband; he looked like a predator cornering a rabbit.

"You dare quote Pack Law to me?" he growled, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating with the power of the Alpha command. "You have failed in your only duty. You have given me nothing but shame."

"I have given you everything!" I shouted back, my healer’s composure cracking. "I have run your pack, balanced your books, and healed your warriors while you played games!"

"**Kneel.**"

The command slammed into me like a physical blow. It wasn't a request; it was the Alpha Tone. It bypassed my ears and struck directly at my wolf. Lexi screamed in pain as my body betrayed me. My muscles seized, forcing me down. I fought it, sweat beading on my forehead, my teeth gritted so hard I thought they would shatter.

But he was the Alpha. And I was his mate.

My knees hit the hardwood floor with a sickening thud. The impact jarred my spine, but the humiliation burned worse than the pain. I gasped for air, staring at his muddy boots.

"Look at her," Brody mocked, gesturing to Allie. "That is where she belongs. On her knees."

Allie giggled, a sharp, cruel sound. She walked over, her heels clicking on the floor, and draped herself over Brody’s arm. "Don't be too hard on her, Alpha. I'll need someone to fetch my cravings. Pregnancy is so exhausting."

Brody grinned, reaching down to grab my chin, forcing me to look up at them. His fingers dug into my jaw, bruising the skin.

"You heard the future mother of the pack," Brody spat, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol. Underneath the booze, I caught a whiff of something else—something bitter and metallic, like burnt herbs—but the pain in my jaw distracted me.

"You aren't the Luna anymore, Violette. Not in here," he tapped his chest, then pointed to the bedroom upstairs. "From now on, your duty is to ensure Allie is comfortable. If she wants water, you fetch it. If she wants food, you cook it. Consider this Level Two of your loyalty test."

He shoved my face away, and I collapsed onto my hands.

"Come on, Allie," he said, stepping over me as if I were a rug. "Let's get you into a real bed."

I stayed on the floor, listening to their footsteps fade up the stairs, followed by the slam of the Master Suite door—the door that had been mine just moments ago.