My Mate Chose Her Over Me

When I stepped into the packhouse, the scent of stew wafted through the air, mingling with the faint trace of Rhys’s pinewood and leather scent—something I used to find comforting, but now it only made my stomach twist. He was in the kitchen, his broad shoulders hunched over the stove, the muscles in his back shifting beneath his shirt as he stirred the pot. Hearing the door close, he glanced up, his dark eyes meeting mine.

"Georgina, you're back," he said, his voice low and smooth, the kind of tone that once made my wolf stir in contentment. Now, it only made her whimper softly in the back of my mind.

I gave a brief nod, swapping into my indoor shoes before walking over to him. He was the Beta of the Blue Moon Pack, a position that demanded respect, but tonight, I couldn’t bring myself to care about titles or hierarchies.

"Today, I made your favorite," he said, offering a gentle smile, his eyes crinkling as if he truly cared. "Sweet and sour pulled pork."

I didn’t respond. My fingers brushed the edge of the plate, and with a light push, it hit the floor, the crash echoing through the silence of the packhouse.

Rhys froze, setting the ladle down with a clatter. His face darkened, the aura of a Beta radiating from him, sharp and commanding. "What kind of nonsense is this now?"

I fixed my gaze on him, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Had your fun with someone else this afternoon, and now you’re here cooking for me. Aren’t you exhausted?"

His brow furrowed, his voice dropping to a growl. "Have you been spying on me?"

I laughed, the sound hollow and bitter. "Why would I need to? Your little girlfriend came boldly to find me herself."

His expression shifted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Oh, she’s got some nerve, huh?"

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest.

He walked slowly to my side, his presence overwhelming as it always was. "Is that what’s got you upset? Such a pity about the food." His tone softened, though his eyes remained hard. "Okay, I promise she won’t show up in front of you again. Georgina, you know she’s just a fling. You will always be Mrs. Cruz; no one can replace you." He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his touch lingering. "Weren’t you eyeing that jewelry set recently? I’ll have it delivered to the house tomorrow."

His gaze was tender, the kind of look that once made my knees weak. Now, it only made my wolf snarl in disgust.

I muttered a curse under my breath and glanced at the steaming pot of stew behind him. "Dinner’s ready," I said flatly.

I could resist anything, except diamonds.

The packhouse attendant, always perceptive, quickly arranged for the mess to be cleaned up, and the meal was served promptly. Rhys sat across from me, his posture relaxed but his eyes darting to his phone every few seconds, as if waiting for a message that didn’t come.

"By the way," he said casually, though his grip on the fork tightened, "what did you talk about with Lana?"

I cracked a smile, though it didn’t reach my eyes. "Rhys, I’m the pack Healer."

"Is she unwell?" His voice was sharp, his concern for her evident.

"Yeah," I said, my tone flat. "She took quite a beating from you. Ruptured corpus luteum. And I mentioned—"

Before I could finish, he stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor, and rushed out without another word.

I lowered my gaze, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. This wasn’t the first time Rhys had cheated. But it was the first time he showed such concern for his mistress. My wolf growled softly in my mind, a sound of both anger and pain.

It was then I knew, more than ever, that the bond between us was fraying—and there was no way to stitch it back together.