My Alpha Left Me in the Fire for His Mistress

The separation papers felt like they weighed a thousand pounds in my trembling hands as I pushed open the heavy oak door to Nathaniel's study. He sat behind his massive desk, not bothering to look up from the documents before him.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice cold and distracted. "I'm busy."

I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. My heart hammered against my ribs as I approached his desk, my wolf cowering within me.

"I want to sever the bond," I said, my voice steadier than I expected as I placed the papers before him. "I've drawn up the sacred rejection vow."

That got his attention. His head snapped up, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"You dare?"

"The Moon Goddess may have chosen me as your mate," I continued, gathering courage from somewhere deep inside, "but you've made it clear you don't want me. I won't be used as a blood bag for the rest of my life."

Something dark flickered across his face. He rose slowly from his chair, his massive frame casting a shadow over me.

"I, Diana Spencer," I began reciting from memory, "reject you, Nathaniel Reed, as my—"

The words died in my throat as his Alpha Aura slammed into me like a physical wall. The air vanished from my lungs as I collapsed to my knees, my body betraying me once again.

"You think you can reject me?" he snarled, circling his desk to tower over me. "You think you have that right?"

I couldn't speak, couldn't breathe under the crushing weight of his power. My wolf whimpered, curling into herself.

"Nathaniel," I gasped, fighting against the invisible force pressing down on me. "Please..."

His hand shot out, grabbing the papers from his desk. With deliberate slowness, he pulled a silver lighter from his pocket and flicked it open.

"Watch carefully," he said, his voice deadly quiet as he touched the flame to the corner of the pages.

The papers caught fire, curling into black ash that fluttered to the floor between us. The sacred words—my one hope for freedom—turned to smoke and nothing.

"Let me make something perfectly clear," he said, crouching down to grip my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "You will never sever this bond. You will never leave this pack. And if you ever attempt something this stupid again, I will personally exile your mother to the Rogue lands."

The threat hung between us, cold and terrible. Shay might have treated me like a servant, but she was still my mother. The thought of her alone among the rogues—the outcasts who survived by violence and desperation—made bile rise in my throat.

"Do you understand?" he demanded.

"Yes, Alpha," I whispered, defeat washing over me.

---

Three days later, Martha burst into my tiny room in the servants' quarters.

"Get up," she snapped. "The Alpha's chosen mate is moving into the Alpha suite today. You'll be serving their private dinner tonight."

My stomach twisted. Presley was officially taking her place as Nathaniel's chosen mate—even though our bond remained intact.

"Is that necessary?" I asked quietly.

Martha's smile was cruel. "The Alpha insists. You'll wear your Omega uniform."

The Omega uniform—ragged, faded, marked with the symbol of the lowest rank. Designed to humiliate.

That evening, I stood in the corner of the Alpha's dining room, watching as Presley arranged herself at Nathaniel's right hand. She'd decorated the table with candles and fresh flowers, transforming the space into something intimate and romantic.

"Serve the wine," Presley commanded, not even looking at me.

I moved forward, the bottle heavy in my hands. As I leaned between them to pour, Presley shifted suddenly, her arm brushing against mine.

"Careful," she hissed for my ears alone. "Remember your place."

I stepped back, but not before Nathaniel's nostrils flared. His eyes widened slightly, a strange expression crossing his face as he inhaled deeply.

For a moment, he stared at me with something like recognition—or longing—his wolf responding to my scent without his permission.

"What is it?" Presley asked sharply, noticing his distraction.

Nathaniel blinked, seemingly confused by his own reaction. "Nothing," he muttered, but his eyes kept drifting back to me.

Presley's face darkened with fury. She reached for her wine glass, then deliberately knocked it over, spilling red liquid across the white tablecloth.

"Oh!" she gasped, clutching her chest. "I don't feel well!"

She slid from her chair, collapsing dramatically onto the floor. Nathaniel was at her side instantly, panic replacing his earlier confusion.

"Presley!" he cried, gathering her into his arms. "What's wrong?"

"The pain," she whispered weakly. "It's back."

Nathaniel's head snapped up, his eyes finding mine with sudden rage. "Guards!" he roared.

Two Delta wolves appeared instantly at the door.

"Take her to the clinic," he ordered, pointing at me. "Now!"

"But I didn't—" I began.

"Now!" he thundered, his Alpha Command silencing me.

Strong hands gripped my arms, dragging me from the room as Presley nestled against Nathaniel's chest, her eyes meeting mine over his shoulder—alert, triumphant, and utterly healthy.

The guards pulled me down the corridor toward the clinic, where I knew Dr. Webb would be waiting with his needles and vials.

"Please," I begged as they shoved me through the doors. "This isn't right."

But no one was listening. In the Blood Moon Pack, the Alpha's word was law—and I was nothing but property to be used for another's survival.