My Mate Blocked Our Bond While I Was Dying

The training grounds echoed with the sound of clashing practice blades and heavy breathing. I stood at the edge, watching the Black Moon warriors move with fluid precision. My muscles ached from yesterday's session, but I refused to show weakness.

"Again," Parker commanded, his voice carrying across the field. "Your stance is wrong."

I adjusted my feet, lowering my center as James approached with a training staff. Three days of this—three days of being the weakest link in a chain of elite warriors.

James lunged forward. I parried awkwardly, stumbling backward.

"Too slow," he said, not unkindly. "Your reflexes need work."

Parker watched from the sidelines, his arms crossed. The heat in his eyes when they met mine made my skin tingle.

"Enough," he finally said, stepping forward. "Let me show her."

James stepped back, yielding his position. Parker moved behind me, his chest brushing my back as he adjusted my grip on the staff.

"Like this," he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. "Feel the balance."

His hands guided mine, strong and sure. The contact sent electricity racing through me, my wolf stirring restlessly.

"Again," he instructed, stepping away.

This time when James attacked, I was ready. I blocked his strike and countered with one of my own.

"Better," Parker nodded, a rare smile touching his lips.

I caught my breath, suddenly aware of how close he'd been. The warriors around us had stopped training, their eyes darting between Parker and me.

"Is it just me," James muttered, "or does it suddenly smell like mating season out here?"

Parker's jaw tightened. "Back to work," he barked, but the damage was done.

Every wolf on the training ground could smell our arousal—his and mine—hanging heavy in the air.

Parker stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me. "I promised I'd wait until you're ready."

---

The Werewolf Council chamber was imposing—all stone and ancient wood, with five solemn figures seated at a raised dais. I stood straight-backed beside James, with Parker slightly behind me—a position that spoke volumes about my new status.

"Travis Patterson," announced the Head Councilor, "you stand accused of embezzlement and neglect of pack resources."

Travis entered from the opposite door, looking nothing like the polished Beta I'd known. His clothes were rumpled, his hair unkempt. Without my management, his carefully constructed image was crumbling.

"This is ridiculous," he snarled, his eyes finding mine. "A runaway Omega with delusions of grandeur."

He stalked toward me, aggression radiating from every pore. "You think you can just leave? Take my son?"

Parker moved forward, his massive frame blocking Travis's path. "Step back."

Travis's lip curled. "The great Alpha Parker Shaw, reduced to guarding a reject."

I placed my hand on Parker's arm, gently moving him aside. "This is my fight."

I stepped forward until I was inches from Travis. "Your son? The one you dressed in second-hand clothes while spending fifty thousand on a trinket for your mistress?"

Travis flinched as I released my Alpha aura—not as strong as Parker's, but enough to make him stumble back.

"You're nothing," he hissed, but there was fear in his eyes now.

---

"The Council has reviewed all evidence," the Head Councilor intoned. "Financial records, testimony from Dr. Helena Cross regarding the wolfsbane incident, and documentation of Mr. Patterson's expenditures."

Travis paced like a caged animal. "This is a farce. A Beta's son belongs with his father!"

"A Beta who neglects his duties?" I countered, opening the folder I'd prepared. "A Beta who spends pack funds on luxuries for a rogue while his own son wears patched clothing?"

I laid out the evidence methodically—receipts for Georgina's gifts alongside those for Mac's necessities.

"And finally," I said, stepping into the center of the chamber, "there's this."

I let my shift take me, bones cracking and reforming as my white wolf emerged. Gasps echoed through the chamber.

"A White Wolf," the Head Councilor whispered. "Royal Lycan bloodline."

I shifted back smoothly. "I was told I was wolfless. Worthless. Yet here I stand."

The verdict came swiftly. "Custody granted to Olivia Campbell. Visitation suspended pending further review. All assets frozen until investigation complete."

Travis's face contorted with rage. "You stole her face!" he screamed, pointing at me. "You stole my chosen mate's face!"

The chamber fell silent as everyone turned to stare at him.

"Your chosen mate?" the Head Councilor asked coldly. "Not your legal one?"

Travis's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. He'd just admitted to choosing another over his legal mate—a serious offense in werewolf law.

I smiled thinly. "I wonder what the Council will think of that confession."

Parker stepped forward, his hand finding mine. "I think we're done here."

As we turned to leave, Travis's screams echoed behind us. But for once, I didn't flinch. I was finally free.