My Alpha Groom Rejected Me for His Pregnant Mistress

The news of my engagement to Byron Harris had spread through the Shadowclaw Pack like wildfire. I could feel the tension in the air as I returned to pack territory to collect my belongings. Skyla had insisted on accompanying me, but I'd convinced her to wait outside. This was something I needed to do alone.

I was nearly finished packing when the door to my quarters burst open. Jake stormed in, his face contorted with rage, Zara hovering behind him with a smug expression.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snarled, slamming the door behind him.

I continued folding my clothes, refusing to show fear. "Collecting my things. I'm moving to the Royal Territory permanently."

Jake's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Zara told me everything. You're manipulating my uncle to steal our pack's wealth."

I raised an eyebrow. "Your pack? I thought it was your grandfather's pack."

His face flushed crimson. "You know what I mean! You're using that... that beast to get back at me."

"Careful, Jake," I warned softly. "Byron might be your uncle, but he's still the Lycan King."

"Uncle?" Jake laughed bitterly. "He's nothing but a monster who killed his own mate!"

I felt a pang of surprise at this revelation, but kept my expression neutral.

"You think you've won something?" Jake continued, stepping closer. "Playing princess to the beast?"

I could feel his Alpha aura pressing against me, trying to force submission. But something had changed since our rejection—his power over me had diminished.

"Submit," he commanded, his Alpha tone vibrating through the room.

I smiled slightly, reaching for my phone. "Before you continue this tantrum, you might want to know that I've opened a mind-link to the Council of Elders."

Jake froze, his eyes widening. "What?"

"They're listening to every word," I said calmly. "Every threat, every insult, every display of instability."

Zara paled, tugging at Jake's arm. "Jake, stop. This isn't helping."

But it was too late. The damage was done.

---

A week later, I stood beside Byron in the grand hall of the Royal Palace, greeting dignitaries from packs across the continent. I wore a gown of deep blue silk—royal colors—my hair arranged in an elegant updo that highlighted the graceful curve of my neck.

"Alpha Morris of the Northern Territories," Byron introduced as an older wolf approached, bowing deeply.

"A pleasure," I replied, extending my hand. "I've heard much about your pack's conservation efforts."

The Alpha's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "You have?"

"Amber has been studying the political landscape extensively," Byron explained, his hand resting lightly at the small of my back.

Throughout the evening, I navigated the complex web of pack politics with careful precision. Byron watched me from across the room, his silver eyes following my every move.

"You've impressed them all," he murmured later as we stood by the window. "The Lycan Council hasn't seen such diplomatic skill in decades."

I was about to respond when Alpha Donovan of the Eastern Ridge Pack approached, a sneer on his weathered face.

"So this is the little she-wolf who rejected Shadowclaw for power," he said loudly. "Ambitious little thing, isn't she?"

The room fell silent. I felt Byron tense beside me.

"Alpha Donovan," I acknowledged with a slight nod. "I've read your recent proposal on territory disputes. Quite innovative."

Before Donovan could respond, a low growl rumbled through the room—a sound so primal and threatening that several wolves instinctively lowered their heads.

Byron had stepped forward, his eyes flashing with barely contained fury.

"My Queen is not to be disrespected," he said, his voice deadly quiet.

The Alpha paled, backing away quickly.

Later that night, Byron and I walked through the palace gardens. The moon hung full and bright above us, bathing everything in silver light.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "For defending me."

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "It was necessary."

We stopped beside a stone fountain, the water gleaming in the moonlight. Something shifted in the air between us—a tension I couldn't quite name.

"Amber," Byron said suddenly, his voice rough.

The moonlight caught me at that moment, and Byron's eyes widened. He stepped closer, inhaling deeply.

"Your scent," he murmured, his voice strained. "It's..."

He moved with startling speed, pinning me against a stone pillar. His face was inches from mine, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in my scent.

"Wildflowers and rain," he whispered, almost to himself.

His eyes met mine, filled with something I'd never seen before—wonder, fear, and something deeper that made my heart race.

"The Moon Goddess has blessed me," he said hoarsely. "Or cursed me further."

Before I could ask what he meant, he pulled away abruptly, his expression shuttering closed.

"I must go," he said, already stepping back. "The council needs me."

And with that, he was gone, leaving me alone in the garden with my racing heart and a thousand questions.