My Alpha’s Rejection-Replaced by His Mistress

My knees slammed against the icy stone floor as Celeste, my mate’s mistress, tripped me with a cruel flick of her heel. The pack’s mocking laughter roared through the hall, swallowing her fake gasp.

Blood seeped from my torn palms, my dress in tatters, but Alpha Ryker—my mate—and our son, Adrian, turned away. Ryker’s cold eyes devoured Celeste, as if she were his true mate.

“Clumsy Mama,” Adrian, my son, jeered, his words a knife to my heart. “Celeste is so much better than you.”

“Oh, Adrian, hush,” Celeste cooed, her venomous smirk curling as she twirled a lock of hair. “I’ll be Luna soon. We mustn’t be too hard on your mother.”

Her voice was honeyed poison, her gaze sparking with glee at my son’s betrayal. She pressed herself against Ryker, claiming him like they were the ones bound by fate.

Ryker lifted her hand, kissing it with reverence. “You’re Adrian’s true mother,” he vowed. “My Luna. My only mate.”

But as I staggered to my feet, defiance ignited in my chest. One thought burned hotter than my pain—I’d make them all pay.

...

I was barely able to stand. My body ached from fever, my limbs heavy as if they had been chained down. Every movement sent a dull pain rippling through my muscles, but I pushed forward. Today wasn’t about me. It was about my son.

Adrian’s birthday.

The packhouse was silent in the early morning, the moon still clinging to the sky as I worked alone in the kitchen. A grand feast had to be prepared—meats marinated, bread baked, desserts carefully plated.

Not because I was expected to do it, but because I wanted to. Because despite everything, despite the way my son had started looking at me like I was nothing more than a servant, I still held on to the hope that maybe—just maybe—he would look at me with love today.

The fire in the hearth crackled softly, casting long shadows across the stone walls as I kneaded dough with trembling fingers. My fevered skin felt as though it was on fire, but I ignored it. There was no room for weakness in this pack.

Certainly not in the presence of her.

Celeste.

The she-wolf who had slithered into my husband’s bed, sinking her claws into him and twisting them until I was little more than a forgotten shadow.

I could already imagine the way she would glide into the hall later, her silky golden hair cascading down her back, her lips curved into that ever-smug smile.

Sweet, perfect Celeste, the one the pack whispered about in hushed voices. The true Luna, they called her, while I was nothing more than a lingering inconvenience.

I could still remember the first time I’d caught them together. The sting of betrayal.

The cold, dismissive way Ryker had looked at me, as if I were nothing more than an insect beneath his boot. But worst of all? The way Adrian had taken to her so effortlessly, like I had never existed in the first place.

I forced the thoughts away, focusing on the scent of baking bread and roasted venison, on the feast I had spent the entire night preparing. I had to finish before the celebration began.

Before Ryker arrived with Celeste draped over his arm, looking every bit the radiant Luna while I—his actual mate—faded into the background.

The sound of laughter drifted in from outside, light and carefree, grating against my ears. I tensed, wiping sweat from my brow as I turned toward the doorway. The scent of jasmine and honey filled the room before she even stepped inside.

Celeste.

She entered as if she owned the place, her movements slow and deliberate, her eyes scanning the kitchen before settling on me with that familiar condescending smirk.

"Maya,” she purred, her voice coated in false sweetness. “Up early, I see. How devoted of you."

I said nothing. I had long since learned that nothing I said would matter.

She sauntered toward the counter, plucking a berry from one of the fruit platters I had arranged, popping it into her mouth with a satisfied hum. “The Alpha must be so proud to have a Luna so… dutiful.”

My fingers clenched around the wooden spoon I was stirring with, my knuckles turning white.

She wasn’t Luna. I was. But the pack had long since stopped seeing me as one.

"Is there something you need, Celeste?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain even.

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Oh, no, I was just passing by and thought I’d check in. You know, to make sure everything is perfect for Adrian’s special day."

She ran a finger along the edge of a silver tray, glancing down at the dishes I had prepared.

"Though, I do wonder if you’re putting in too much effort. After all…" She turned to me then, her blue eyes gleaming with malice. "He barely eats anything you make anymore."

The words sliced through me like a blade, but I refused to show it. I had already noticed, of course. The way Adrian pushed his plate away whenever I set it before him.

How he only ate when Celeste served him. How he had started to look at me with the same cold disregard his father did.

Celeste leaned in slightly, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Maybe he just prefers a mother who doesn’t reek of desperation."

My vision blurred with fury, but before I could react, another voice cut through the silence.

"Celeste," Ryker’s deep voice echoed from the doorway. "There you are."

The moment he stepped inside, the air shifted. My mate, my Alpha, towered in the doorway, his presence commanding as always. .

His obsidian hair was slightly tousled, his broad shoulders relaxed, but there was no warmth in his golden eyes when they landed on me.

Only indifference.

Celeste turned to him with a dazzling smile, the one she always wore when she was draped over him like an ornament. "I was just checking on our feast, my love. Maya’s been working so hard."

He barely spared me a glance. "As she should."

The dismissiveness stung more than I cared to admit, but I swallowed it down. I had no right to complain, not when I had allowed this to go on for so long.

Ryker stepped forward, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of Celeste’s hair behind her ear. A tender gesture. An intimate one. The kind of touch he hadn’t given me in years.

“Come,” he murmured. “You don’t need to waste your time here.”

Celeste hummed in agreement, casting one last look at me before looping her arm through his. "Don't work too hard, Maya. We wouldn't want you to collapse before the party, now would we?"

They walked out together, their laughter ringing in my ears long after they had gone.

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to focus on the food, on the preparations, on anything other than the hollow ache in my chest.

This was for Adrian. He was still my son. He would see me today. He would know how much I loved him.

Footsteps approached the kitchen again, and my heart lifted—maybe he had come looking for me.

But when I turned, I found Adrian standing in the doorway, his brows furrowed in irritation.

My beautiful boy. My son.

"Adrian," I breathed, trying to smile through the pain. "I made all your favorites."

He barely looked at the feast, his nose scrunching up as if the sight disgusted him. "Celeste said she’s taking me out later. She’s getting me real food."

A sharp pang shot through my chest. "But I—"

His lips curled into a sneer, his tone laced with the same cold disdain I had grown used to.

"Why do you even bother?" he scoffed. "You’re useless."