My Alpha Husband Wants My Heart For His Mistress

A thick manila folder slapped against the mattress, missing my bandaged shoulder by an inch.

"Explain the orphanage fire," Forest demanded.

I stared at the glossy photographs spilling from the file. Charred timber, scorched toys, the ruined shell of the Shadow Creek Pack orphanage. The sterile white walls of the High Court infirmary offered no comfort. The sharp scent of winter pine radiating from Forest only sharpened the chill in the room.

"I didn't start it," I rasped, my throat still raw from the silver collar they had used on me before the river.

Forest leaned against the edge of the metal desk across from the bed. He crossed his arms, the silver insignia on his dark uniform catching the overhead light. "Alpha Paxton provided sworn testimonies. Four witnesses saw you carrying gasoline near the east wing."

"Four witnesses on his payroll," I countered. I pushed myself up against the pillows. The fresh stitches in my chest pulled tight, sending a sharp spike of pain through my ribs. "He needed a distraction. A felony to justify executing me without a trial."

"Arson is a capital offense," Forest stated, his voice a low, flat rumble. "Dozens of pups are in the burn ward."

I let out a harsh, broken laugh. The sound scraped my vocal cords. "Paxton doesn't care about pups. He cares about covering his tracks. Look at the date on the fire report."

Forest didn't move. "Three years ago."

"Exactly. Three years of missing funds," I said. I swung my bare legs over the edge of the bed. The cold floor shocked my heels. "I was his Luna. I managed the internal affairs of Shadow Creek. I knew every dime that flowed through that territory."

"Get back in bed," Forest ordered, stepping forward.

"Give me a laptop," I demanded, meeting his cold, falcon-like stare. "You want proof? I'll give you the motive for my execution."

Forest studied my face. His gaze dropped to the fresh spot of red blooming through the white gauze on my shoulder. He uncrossed his arms, grabbed a sleek black tablet from the desk, and tossed it onto my lap.

"Show me," he said.

My fingers trembled as I tapped the screen. "There is a hidden offshore registry. Account 8492-B. I found it last month before Paxton locked me in the dungeon."

"A pack Alpha bypassing the central banking guild is a severe violation," Forest noted. He stepped closer, his imposing frame blocking the fluorescent light. "If you are lying to stall your execution, I will carry out the sentence myself."

"I am not lying," I shot back, navigating to the encrypted banking portal. "Paxton siphoned five million dollars from the pack's infrastructure budget. He didn't spend it on the orphanage."

"Where did it go?"

"Black-market wolfsbane," I said, looking up at him. "And banned silver torture devices. The exact tools he used on me tonight."

Forest's jaw tightened. A muscle jumped beneath his left eye. He pulled a heavy encrypted radio from his tactical belt. "Get Chief Auditor Miller up here. Now."

The heavy steel door flew open less than a minute later. A tall man with wire-rimmed glasses and a thick laptop under his arm strode into the infirmary.

"Captain," Miller said, nodding to Forest before casting a wary glance at me.

"Access the central financial mainframe," Forest instructed, pointing to the desk. "Trace an offshore ghost account. 8492-B."

Miller set his laptop on the metal surface and connected a secure hard drive. His fingers flew across the keyboard. "Routing through the High Court servers. It is heavily encrypted, sir. Shadow Creek military-grade firewalls."

"Break it," Forest ordered.

"They are using a rotating cipher," Miller muttered, his eyes darting across lines of scrolling green code. "I need a backdoor."

"Try port 994," I said.

Miller paused and looked at Forest for permission. Forest gave a sharp nod.

"Port 994 is usually reserved for internal security feeds," Miller argued, typing the command anyway.

"Paxton leaves it open for his private communications," I explained, leaning forward. "He thinks he is smarter than the central guild."

The screen flashed green.

"We are in," Miller announced. "I need the beneficiary signature authorization to unseal the ledgers."

"Chloe," I said. "Check the name Chloe."

Miller typed the name. A progress bar appeared in the center of the screen, a bright red line creeping toward the right edge.

"Paxton is arrogant, but he isn't stupid," I told Forest, keeping my eyes glued to the loading bar. "He didn't put his own name on the illegal purchases. If the High Court ever audited him, he needed a fall guy. He used his mistress."

"If this account holds five million in contraband, the Alpha loses his rank," Forest said, his tone deadly serious. "And the mistress goes to a subterranean cell."

"That is exactly where they belong," I replied.

The progress bar hit 50%.

The silence in the room stretched, thick and suffocating. The only sound was the rapid clicking of Miller's keyboard and the steady beep of my heart monitor.

75%.

Forest rested his hands on the desk, leaning closer to the monitor.

100%.

The screen flashed white, then populated with hundreds of transaction logs.

Miller stepped back, pushing his glasses up his nose. "You were right. Five million dollars. All routed through shell companies in the Northern Territories."

Forest traced a finger down the lines of data. "Read the purchase orders."

"Fifty liters of concentrated wolfsbane," Miller read aloud, his voice dropping. "Five pure silver chest retractors. Ten sets of silver-infused cowhide restraints. Specialized surgical equipment."

"Scroll to the bottom," I instructed, my nails digging into the mattress. "Show him the authorization seal."

Miller scrolled past the final transaction. A digitized stamp glowed in the center of the screen. A stylized rose intertwined with a wolf's fang.

"Chloe's personal seal," I stated, staring at the symbol that had haunted my marriage for years. "Every single purchase was authorized by her."

Forest stared at the glowing red seal. He reached for the keyboard, his large hand hovering over the keys to download the evidence to a secure drive.

His fingers froze.

A jarring, high-pitched alarm shrieked from Miller's laptop. The transaction logs vanished, replaced by a solid black screen.

"What did you do?" Forest snapped, glaring at the auditor.

"Nothing!" Miller frantically tapped the trackpad. "It is a forced override. A global broadcast from the Shadow Creek internal network. They bypassed our firewalls."

The black screen flickered.

A live video feed sprang to life, pinning itself to the top of the High Court's secure channel.