The Secret Mistress: Poisoning The Alpha's Unborn Heir

On my wedding night, I waited for the fated spark. Instead, I found a fresh tattoo on my Alpha husband's chest.

Beneath the ink lay a jagged bite mark. Jameson had marked Caren, the wolf-less Omega, just hours before our ceremony.

When I confronted him, he called me paranoid. But the betrayal didn't stop at infidelity.

On my birthday, Caren brought me "fertility tea." I smelled the metallic tang of Wolfsbane immediately—a poison deadly to our kind. I refused to touch it, but Jameson’s eyes flashed with dominance.

"Drink it. That is an order."

He used the Alpha Voice to force the poison down my throat.

As my throat seized and I clawed at the carpet, dying, he didn't help me. When I reached for the antidote, he shoved me into the wall to protect Caren, accusing me of trying to attack her.

I woke up in the hospital to the devastating news: the poison had killed our unborn pup.

Yet, Jameson still shielded his mistress, baring his fangs at his own mother to keep Caren safe. He thought he could fix it. He thought he still owned me.

"Sit! I command you to stay!"

He roared the Alpha Command, expecting me to kneel. But his authority shattered along with my heart.

I didn't just sign the divorce papers. I walked out to the parking lot under the full moon and rejected the bond, watching him collapse in agony.

Then, the "broken" wolf he despised finally shifted.

I rose as the legendary White Wolf, and left him howling in the dirt.

Chapter 1

Lana POV:

The heavy oak door of the Alpha Suite slammed shut, cutting off the noise of the celebration downstairs.

Two burly Gamma warriors dumped my husband onto the king-sized bed.

"Careful," I said, my voice tight. "He is your Alpha."

"Sorry, Luna Lana," one of them muttered, bowing his head. "The Moon Liquor... it hit him hard."

They retreated, leaving me alone with Jameson.

This was supposed to be the most magical night of my life. The night the Moonlight Pack officially recognized me as their Luna. The night Jameson and I would seal our bond under the eyes of the Moon Goddess.

But there was no magic here. Only the sour reek of spilled alcohol and the cold, hollow feeling in my chest.

I walked to the side of the bed. Jameson was sprawled on his back, his expensive tuxedo shirt unbuttoned halfway, his breathing heavy and uneven.

I reached out to brush a lock of dark hair from his forehead.

I waited for the spark.

The elders always said that when you touch your Fated Mate, it feels like lightning dancing under your skin. They said your souls hum in harmony, a song only the two of you can hear.

I felt nothing. Just warm, clammy skin.

My Inner Wolf paced anxiously in the back of my mind. She was silent, confused. She should be howling with joy, calling out to her mate. But the connection-the Mind-Link-was static. It was like trying to tune into a radio station that didn't exist.

Buzz.

My phone lit up on the nightstand.

Caren: Is he asleep? Make sure to give him water mixed with crushed valerian root. He gets headaches after drinking Moon Liquor.

I stared at the screen. Caren. My childhood friend. The charity case my father took in. The wolf-less Omega.

Why was she texting me about my husband's hangover cures on my wedding night?

I didn't reply. I turned back to Jameson. He shifted in his sleep, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

"Lana..." he mumbled.

My heart skipped a beat. He was dreaming of me. Maybe the bond was just weak because of the alcohol. Maybe...

His hand shot out, grabbing the pillow next to him, pulling it tight against his chest. He buried his face in the silk.

"My sweet Omega," he slurred, his voice thick with a twisted sort of affection. "Caren..."

The air left my lungs.

It felt like the room had suddenly been plunged into ice water. I took a step back, my hands trembling.

He didn't say my name. He said hers.

Jameson rolled over, the movement tearing his shirt open further. The fabric fell away from his left pectoral, right over his heart.

I gasped.

There was fresh ink there. A tattoo. It was still red and irritated, the skin raised and angry.

It was a letter. A stylized, gothic "C".

My knees hit the carpet. I couldn't breathe.

In our world, an Alpha does not tattoo his skin lightly. Our healing factor pushes ink out unless it is infused with magic or done with specific rituals.

I crawled closer, my vision blurring. I needed to see. I needed to be sure.

I engaged my wolf sight, my eyes sharpening.

Underneath the black ink of the letter "C"... the skin was mangled. The texture was wrong. It wasn't just a tattoo. It was a cover-up.

Beneath the ink lay the jagged, distinct ridges of a bite mark.

A Mating Mark.

A scream built in my throat, but I swallowed it down, tasting bile.

The Marking is sacred. It is the physical binding of two souls. An Alpha bites his Mate to claim her, to mix their scents permanently.

Jameson had marked someone else. And he had done it before our ceremony. He had hidden it under a tattoo of her initial.

Caren.

He had broken the highest law of the Moon Goddess. He had taken a chosen mate while bound by duty to me.

Buzz.

The phone lit up again.

Caren: Don't be mad, Lana. I know his habits better than anyone. Just trying to help you be a good Luna.

She knew. She knew he was passed out. She knew he was calling her name. She probably knew exactly what was on his chest.

My Inner Wolf let out a sound I had never heard before-a high, keening whimper of absolute betrayal. It wasn't the roar of a queen. It was the cry of a wounded animal trapped in a corner.

I looked at the man who was supposed to be my destiny. The man who was supposed to lead the most powerful pack in the city.

He wasn't an Alpha. He was a liar.

And I was the fool who had just married him.