The Ragpicker Mate He Cast Aside

"Just tidied the room. I'll rest."

My voice trembled.

I fled to my chamber.​

Behind my closed lids, the image of Eden's hoard seared itself into my mind.

My underthings, reeking of stale moon musk, lay in a grotesque pile.

Why would she hoard my bedding?

The red lace set I'd lost after our bond-she must have taken it.

A wave of disgust roiled in my gut, a nauseating tide that threatened to choke me.​

At midday, when the world seemed to hold its breath, I waited for Eden to slip into a deep slumber. I signaled the nursemaid with a desperate glance, our eyes meeting in a silent pact.

We bundled the pup, his tiny body warm and trusting in our arms.​

Then, driven by a fierce determination, I raced to Peter's.

As I approached the door, wet growls, animalistic and primal, echoed from the bedchamber. A cruel smile twisted my lips.

Perfect. My lawyer needed proof.​

I kicked the door open, phone raised high.

The sight that greeted me was a nightmare come to life.

Peter and Freya, tangled in a web of betrayal, their bodies intertwined in a sickening display of lust. "Lila Vance! Delete those!"

Peter snarled, his eyes wild with rage and fear as he lunged at me.​

I dodged his attack, my movements a dance of desperation.

With a flick of my thumb, I sent the damning video to my lawyer.

"She's ruined me!"

Freya wailed, her voice a pathetic screech.

"Fear not, Freya."

Peter stood naked, his arrogance a shield against the truth, as he swiped at my phone.

He crushed it under his heel with a sickening crunch, but the deed was done.

The evidence was out of his reach.​

Freya dressed in a hurry, her face red with shame, and fled the room.

Peter rounded on me, his eyes blazing with a madness I'd never seen before.

"The pup isn't mine! You cheated first. Pay fifty silver pieces for a clean bond break, or I'll howl your shame to the whole pack!"​

I glared at him, my eyes cold and unforgiving.

"Where's my red mating set? The one I lost."

"Blown away by the wind," he snapped, but a flicker of guilt crossed his eyes.

"Did your dam take it?" I pressed, my voice a knife cutting through his deception.​

"Have you lost your mind? Why would she-"

"She favors you over me! If not for you, Freya and I would have a litter by now!"

I pitied him then, a hollow feeling in my chest.

The chill wind snapped my wits back.

With Eden untrustworthy, I needed proof.

First, a new phone.

Back at the inn, staring at my pup's slumbering face, a dark thought howled: He might have been sired while I lay dazed.

I'd heard tales-mates offering their she-wolves for pack rank.

Peter had clawed up since our bond.

No matter. I'd claim my rights.

My call to Peter was met with a snarl: "You posted that video? This isn't over!"

He cut the line, but the footage had gone lunar viral.

Net-wolves dug up his trysts with Freya, down to their mating history.

Both got fired from the pack's corporate; Peter's promotion vanished like mist.

Good riddance.