My Alpha Publicly Rejected Me for His Mistress

The bond was still there. Barely. A thread so thin I could feel it fraying with every breath.

I lay in the dirt behind the warehouse, my body curled around the pain in my abdomen. The rogues were gone. My research case was gone. The sky above me was gray and flat, like all the color had been drained out of the world.

I reached for Ethan through the bond. I didn't want to. I hated myself for it. But I was alone and bleeding and terrified, and some animal part of me still believed he would come.

I felt him. Distant. Faint. He was in a car. The engine was running. I could sense Elina beside him, her presence sharp and bright through the bond's残影.

Ethan, I thought. Please.

He paused. I felt it — his hand tightening on the steering wheel, his wolf stirring inside him, restless and uneasy. For one fragile second, I thought he would turn around. I thought he would feel what was happening to me and choose differently.

Then he severed the connection.

It wasn't accidental. It wasn't a fading. It was deliberate. Clean. Final. Like cutting a rope.

The emptiness that followed was absolute. The bond — already shredded, already dying — snapped completely. I felt it tear through my chest, through my ribs, through every part of me that had believed we were meant to be together. The pain was worse than the blows. Worse than anything.

I pressed my hand to my stomach. The warmth spreading between my legs was wrong. Too much. Too fast.

No. No no no.

I tried to call for Seren. I reached for her with everything I had left, clawing through the silence inside me, desperate for any response.

Nothing.

She was gone. Or unconscious. Or so broken she couldn't answer. I couldn't tell the difference anymore.

I was twenty-six years old and I was alone in the dirt and I was losing my baby and there was no one left to hear me scream.

I don't know how long I lay there. Time stopped meaning anything. The sky darkened. The air turned cold. I felt the blood soaking through my clothes, felt my body trying to hold onto something that was already gone.

I heard voices. Footsteps. Someone shouting orders.

Then hands — gentle, impossibly careful — lifting me from the ground.

I tried to open my eyes. I couldn't. Everything was too heavy.

A scent reached me before anything else. Pine. Thunderstorm. Dark honey. It wrapped around me like a blanket, warm and steady and utterly unfamiliar.

I felt myself being carried. The motion was smooth, controlled. Whoever was holding me moved like I weighed nothing.

I forced my eyes open. Just a crack. Just enough to see.

A man. Tall. Dark hair. His face was shadowed, but his expression was focused, intent. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking ahead, his jaw tight, his arms locked around my body like he was afraid I would break if he loosened his grip.

"Stay with me," he said. His voice was low. Steady. "You're safe now."

I tried to answer. I couldn't. The words wouldn't come.

Deep inside me, in the place where Seren had been silent for so long, something stirred. Not a voice. Not a howl. Just a flicker. A whisper of warmth.

Then everything went black.

---

Ethan arrived at the event grounds twenty minutes later. Silas was with him. They parked near the tree line and got out.

The area was cordoned off. Blood Crown security — unmistakable in their dark uniforms and the aura of absolute authority they carried — stood at the perimeter. Yellow tape marked the scene. Ethan could see the disturbed earth, the drag marks, the dark stain where someone had bled.

He walked toward the tape. A guard stepped forward, blocking his path.

"This area is restricted," the guard said.

Ethan's wolf surged. His alpha aura flared. "I'm Alpha Ethan Voss of the Ashvale Pack. The woman who was attacked is my—" He stopped. The word wouldn't come. "I need to see her."

The guard's expression didn't change. "The woman found in the forest is under royal protection. She has been transported to the Blood Crown compound. You are not authorized."

"Royal protection?" Ethan's voice rose. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means the Lycan Prince has taken personal responsibility for her safety," the guard said. "You will not be granted access."

Ethan stared at him. His hands were shaking. His wolf was screaming inside him, clawing at the severed bond, trying to reach something that was no longer there.

Silas put a hand on his arm. "Let it go," he said quietly.

Ethan turned on him. "Let it go? She was attacked. She's—"

"She's not yours anymore," Silas said. His voice was flat. "You made sure of that."

Ethan looked back at the tree line. At the blood. At the empty space where Lyra had been.

For the first time, he looked at what he had done. He tried to name it. He tried to find the words.

He couldn't.

---

Maren received the summons two days later. A formal letter on Blood Crown stationery, delivered by courier. She was to appear before the Lycan Council to provide testimony regarding Lyra Patterson.

She packed her documentation carefully. The injury records. The pregnancy confirmation. The medical ledger with every note she had taken over the past five years. She locked it all in a leather case and made the journey to the Blood Crown compound.

On her way out of Ashvale, she passed the pack house. Ethan was standing in the driveway, staring at nothing. His clothes were wrinkled. His hair was uncombed. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

Maren slowed the car. For a moment, she considered stopping. Considered saying something.

Then she thought of Lyra. Bleeding in the forest. Alone.

She pressed the gas and kept driving.