The Alpha’s Hidden Mate Her Bond Rejection Price

"Why?"

Selene admired her moonstone-encrusted claws, tilting them to catch the flickering torchlight of the waystation.

"Because there's no point, is there? That female already spent her best years serving beside him while he expanded his territory and consolidated his dominance." She buffed an invisible smudge from her ring claw. "Think about it—if you were an Alpha, and you finally claimed your rightful power, would you keep spending resources on a bonded mate who's already faded? What's the purpose? No amount of rare herbs or territory wealth is going to restore her vitality."

The polished obsidian panel reflected my face back at me—hollow-cheeked, shadows pooling beneath my eyes, my wolf barely visible behind the exhaustion.

Selene leaned closer, her scent sickeningly sweet and artificial.

"You know, sister, you're older than me, but you've still got some appeal left. Since we're getting along so well, let me offer you some guidance." Her gaze swept over me with clinical assessment. "Females need to invest in themselves—some healer treatments, proper restoration rituals. Your skin's looking a bit... depleted. I bet your mate hasn't shown interest in your scent lately, has he?"

I stared at her without answering.

Her skin was flawless. Moonlight-smooth. Not a single imperfection visible.

I used to look like that.

No—I used to look better.

Ten years in that cramped outer-territory den, weathering every hardship alone, had taken their toll. When I looked at old reflections of myself now, I barely recognized the female staring back.

"Healer treatments... require considerable resources."

"So?" Selene shrugged, utterly unbothered. "My benefactor grants me half a vault's worth each moon cycle just for basic provisions. And all the restoration rituals? He covers those separately."

I watched the tiny crystal glinting at the corner of her lined eyes. Delicate. Expensive. Frivolous.

My fingers twisted into the hem of my traveling cloak, trembling.

"How long... have you been his kept mate?"

"Started the twelfth moon of the harvest season, last cycle." She examined her claws again. "Why?"

My grip on my cloak tightened until my knuckles went white.

The twelfth moon of the harvest season.

The day my mother died.

That day, my mother needed urgent healer intervention and rare herbs that cost the equivalent of a small territory's seasonal tribute.

I remembered every detail with brutal clarity—Fenris begging every allied pack he knew, scraping together every connection, emptying his personal stores.

He managed to gather seventy percent of what we needed.

That was everything, he'd told me. Every resource he'd accumulated since establishing himself as a young Alpha.

I'd nearly destroyed myself trying to come up with the rest. Traded everything I could. Pleaded with every pack member who might help.

I scraped together a fraction more.

Mother still died.

Afterward, Fenris had held me so tight I couldn't breathe, tears streaming down his face, his wolf howling in shared grief.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm worthless—I couldn't even secure the healing supplies for your mother. You've suffered so much being bonded to me..."

The pain had been fangs tearing through my chest.

But I'd wiped his tears anyway.

"You gathered seventy percent of what we needed for me. That means everything." My voice had cracked. "Mother said... you did your best. She doesn't blame you. I don't blame you either. It's my failing—I couldn't come up with the remaining portion..."

His tears had dripped onto the back of my hand. Hot. Wet.

He'd gripped my fingers like a wolf drowning in a frozen river.

"Lyra, just endure a little longer. Please. I swear—I won't let our pack suffer like this forever..."

I'd nodded through my tears, believing every word.

The full amount she needed.

He'd had access to it all along.

"You know what's amusing, sister?" Selene's voice cut through the memory. "That female's mother needed exactly that amount of healing resources that same moon."

I looked at her.

She winked, a conspiratorial little flutter of her left eye.

"He was actually going to provide it. Originally."

The air vanished from my lungs. "You took it? For your monthly allowance?"

"Oh, no, no." She waved dismissively. "He controls vast territories. Granting me those resources still left him with plenty more in the pack vaults."

"Then why didn't he give it for his bonded mate's mother?"

"Because..."

Selene propped her chin on her hand, a she-wolf savoring fresh prey.

"I told him—once her mother was dead, that female would have no pack left. No bloodline. And if he ever got caught keeping me as a shadow mate?" She smiled. "She wouldn't dare challenge him. What's she going to do? She'd have no territory to flee to."

My teeth ground together so hard I thought they'd shatter into fragments.

"Oh, and that moon, I'd had my eye on a new set of ceremonial adornments. The exact same cost, coincidentally."

I stared at her, unblinking.

"Aren't you afraid his bonded mate will discover what you did?"

"Please." Selene laughed, light and careless. "I'm cleverer than that."

She leaned back, satisfaction radiating from every pore.

"I'm the one who devised the scheme. Told him to hand over seventy percent and pretend it was everything he possessed. His bonded mate would believe her Alpha gave his all for her." Her lips curled. "She'd be so grateful, so consumed with guilt about not securing the rest herself—she'd never think to question if he had another female hidden away."