My Alpha Mate Poisoned Me for His Mistress

The cramps woke me again at three in the morning.

I curled onto my side in the narrow bed, pressing my palm against my lower abdomen where the pain twisted deep. It had been like this for weeks now. Sharp. Relentless. The kind of ache that made my bones feel hollow.

I told myself it was stress. That living in Dusthowl for three years as Trevor's mate—cooking, cleaning, caring for a pack that barely looked at me—had worn me down. That was all.

But tonight, something felt different.

Selene stirred faintly in the back of my mind. My wolf. She had been silent for so long I had almost forgotten what her voice sounded like. Now she pressed forward, weak and thin, like a whisper through fog.

*Something is wrong,* she breathed.

I sat up slowly, pushing the blanket aside. The pack house was quiet. Trevor was supposed to be on patrol tonight. Gia would be asleep in her room down the hall with Toby. The healer's quarters were on the first floor, tucked behind the kitchen.

I had been to Calvin Vance's office a hundred times. He was the one who gave me my monthly tonics—fertility supplements, he called them. Vitamins to help me stay strong. To help me conceive.

Except I never did.

Selene growled softly. *Go.*

I slipped out of bed and pulled on a sweater. My bare feet made no sound on the wooden floor as I crept down the stairs. The house smelled like stale coffee and pine cleaner. I moved through the kitchen, past the sink I had scrubbed that afternoon, and stopped in front of the healer's door.

It was locked.

I pulled a hairpin from my pocket. My hands shook as I worked it into the keyhole, twisting until I heard the soft click. The door swung open.

The room was small and cluttered. Shelves lined the walls, packed with glass jars, dried herbs, and leather-bound journals. A desk sat in the corner beneath a narrow window. Moonlight spilled across the surface, illuminating a stack of papers and an open logbook.

I crossed the room and opened the medicine cabinet.

Rows of brown glass bottles stared back at me. Each one labeled in Calvin's neat handwriting. *Feverfew. Chamomile. Valerian root.*

And then I saw it.

A bottle near the back, half-empty, with a handwritten label: *W. Extract—Concentrated.*

Wolfsbane.

My breath caught. I pulled the bottle from the shelf and turned it over in my hands. The liquid inside was dark, almost black. I set it on the desk and reached for the logbook.

The pages were filled with dates, names, and dosages. I flipped through them, scanning the entries until I found my own name.

*Sophia Martin—Monthly tonic. 5ml W. Extract per dose. Suppress shift. Prevent conception.*

The words blurred. I read them again. And again.

*Suppress shift.*

*Prevent conception.*

Selene howled inside my mind. It was a sound so broken, so full of rage and grief, that I had to press my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.

They had been poisoning me.

For three years, Calvin Vance had been feeding me wolfsbane. Enough to keep my wolf weak. Enough to make sure I never got pregnant. Enough to keep me compliant.

I grabbed the logbook and the bottle and shoved them into the pocket of my sweater. My legs felt unsteady as I left the healer's quarters and climbed the stairs. I needed to confront Trevor. I needed answers.

The Alpha suite was at the end of the hall. The door was ajar.

I pushed it open.

The room was dark except for the faint glow of the bedside lamp. Trevor was in bed. But he wasn't alone.

Gia was tangled beneath him, her dark hair spilling across the pillow. Trevor's mouth was pressed against her neck. I saw the mark there—fresh, glistening, still red. A mating mark.

Right beside the faded scar of his dead brother's claim.

Gia's eyes opened first. She looked at me over Trevor's shoulder, and a slow, satisfied smile spread across her lips. Then she gasped.

"Trevor," she whispered. "Someone's here."

He pulled back sharply and turned. His eyes widened when he saw me standing in the doorway.

"Sophia—"

"Don't," I said. My voice didn't sound like my own. It was cold. Flat. "Don't say my name."

He climbed off the bed and grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the chair. Gia sat up slowly, pulling the sheet around her chest. She didn't look ashamed. She looked triumphant.

"How long?" I asked.

Trevor didn't answer.

"How long have you been sleeping with her?"

"Sophia, you don't understand—"

"How long?"

He exhaled sharply. "Since before you came here."

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. Selene whimpered.

"And Toby?" I asked. My voice cracked. "Is he yours?"

Trevor looked away.

"Answer me."

"Yes," he said quietly. "He's mine."

I pulled the logbook from my pocket and threw it at his feet. "And this? You've been poisoning me for three years?"

He stared at the book. He didn't pick it up.

"It was necessary," Gia said from the bed. Her voice was light. Almost cheerful. "You were too strong, Sophia. Your wolf, your bloodline—it would have complicated things."

"Complicated things," I repeated. I looked at Trevor. "Where is my money?"

His jaw tightened.

"My trust fund. The account my father set up for me. Where is it?"

Gia laughed softly. "Gone."

I turned to her.

"We used it to keep this pack afloat," she said. She stretched lazily, like a cat in the sun. "The mortgage. The repairs. Toby's school fees. It's all gone, sweetheart."

Selene snarled inside my mind. The mate bond—the thing I had once thought was sacred—felt like a noose around my throat.

I looked at Trevor one last time.

"I'm leaving," I said.

He stepped forward. "You can't—"

"Watch me."

I turned and walked out of the room. My hands were shaking. My chest felt tight. But I didn't cry.

I went back to my room, pulled a cloth bag from the closet, and began to pack. The healer's records. A handful of photographs. The silver bracelet my mother had given me the day I left Silvercrest.

Selene whispered in my mind. *Home. We go home.*

I nodded.

Yes. We were going home.