My Mate Chose My Rival

The pack hospital smelled like antiseptic and wolfsbane tincture. I was restocking the supply closet when Ryan Mitchell appeared in the doorway, his expression grim.

"Maya," he said quietly. "We need to talk."

I glanced around. The hallway was empty, but I still pulled him into the closet and shut the door.

"What is it?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Lucas has been talking. In the locker rooms. Bragging."

My stomach dropped. "About what?"

"About securing the bag." Ryan's jaw tightened. "His words, not mine. He's telling everyone he's going to force you to sign over the deed. Says he'll claim you're mentally unstable because you don't have a fated mate. That you're not fit to own property."

Silver snarled, a vicious sound that echoed in my skull.

"He said that?"

"Word for word." Ryan met my eyes. "Maya, he's planning something. Soon. You need to protect yourself."

I nodded slowly. "Thank you for telling me."

"Be careful," he said, and slipped out of the closet.

I stood there in the dark, surrounded by bandages and bottles, and felt something inside me harden into steel.

---

I left work early. Told the head nurse I had a migraine. She didn't question it—everyone knew about Lucas and Sutton by now. The pack gossip network was relentless.

The elevator ride up to my floor felt longer than usual. Silver was pacing, restless and angry.

"Something's wrong," she growled.

"I know."

The doors opened. I stepped into the foyer and froze.

My study door was open. I always kept it locked. Always.

I moved toward it, my healer's bag still slung over my shoulder. The closer I got, the more I smelled it—that thick, musky scent of arousal. Of two wolves tangled together.

I pushed the door open.

Lucas and Sutton were on my desk. My research papers were scattered across the floor, some torn, some crumpled. The grant proposal I'd spent three months writing was crushed beneath Sutton's bare knee.

They didn't even stop when I walked in.

"Get out," I said.

Lucas looked over his shoulder, his eyes glazed. "Maya. You're home early."

"Get. Out."

Sutton laughed, breathless. "We're busy. Come back later."

Something inside me snapped.

I grabbed Sutton's shirt off the floor and threw it into the hallway. Then Lucas's pants. His shoes. Every piece of clothing I could find.

"What the hell—" Lucas started.

"Out," I said, my voice cold and sharp. "Both of you. Now."

Sutton scrambled off the desk, clutching a throw blanket to her chest. "You can't kick us out!"

"This is my home. My study. My research." I turned to Lucas. "And as of right now, your access to my bank account is terminated. Our relationship is over. Get out."

Lucas's face went white. Then red. "You can't do that."

"I just did."

He moved so fast I barely saw it. One second he was across the room, the next his hand was around my throat, slamming me back against the wall. His fingers were elongating, claws pressing into my skin.

"You ungrateful bitch," he snarled. "I gave you six years."

Silver roared, but I couldn't shift. Couldn't breathe. His grip was crushing my windpipe.

Sutton's voice cut through the ringing in my ears. "That's right! Show her! A wolfless bitch has no right to order a fated couple around!"

Lucas's claws dug deeper. Blood trickled down my neck, hot and wet.

My hand found the silver-plated vase on the side table. The one my mother had given me. Heavy. Solid.

I swung it with everything I had.

It connected with Lucas's forearm. The silver burned through his skin instantly, and he screamed, releasing me. I dropped to my knees, gasping, my throat on fire.

Lucas stared at his arm, at the angry red burn spreading across his skin. Then he looked at me, and his eyes were pure rage.

"You're going to pay for that," he said.