When He Chose His Mistress, I Chose My Pack's Legacy

I walked out of the house without hesitation. The cool night air hit my face, washing away five years of suffocation. Relief flooded through me, but with each step, my vision began to blur around the edges.

My shoulder throbbed. My head felt light. The world tilted sideways.

When I reached the gate, headlights cut through the darkness. My Uber had arrived.

"You're here just in time," I whispered, stumbling toward the car.

The driver's concerned face was the last thing I saw before everything went black.

***

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The rhythmic sound pulled me from darkness. I tried to move, but pain shot through my shoulder.

"Stay still," a gentle voice instructed.

The sharp smell of antiseptics filled my nose. Hospital. I was in a hospital.

My vision cleared slowly. A nurse stood beside my bed, adjusting something on a monitor. When she noticed me watching, she smiled.

"Take it easy, ma'am. You're safe now."

"How did I get here?" My voice sounded raspy, unfamiliar.

"A man rushed you in saying you passed out in his car. The Uber driver, I think." She checked my IV. "You've been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours. Severe dehydration, combined with that nasty burn and shoulder injury. What happened to you?"

I turned away from her questioning gaze. "I fell."

She didn't believe me. I could tell by the way her lips pressed together, but she didn't push.

"Your phone's been ringing non-stop," she said instead, nodding toward the small table beside my bed. "Someone's worried about you."

As soon as she left, I grabbed my phone. Fifteen missed calls from my grandmother. No messages from James. Not that I expected any.

The time stamp shocked me. I'd lost an entire day. Twenty-four hours of freedom I couldn't even remember.

I closed my eyes, memories washing over me. Liam's face after I slapped him. James blocking the door. The pain when my shoulder hit the fireplace.

Five years of my life wasted on people who saw me as nothing but a convenience.

My phone buzzed with a new message. From Sophia's number.

"The stench of weakness is finally gone from our home. Don't worry about your things – I've already burned them. Liam says the fire was beautiful, almost as beautiful as watching you bleed. James laughs about how easy it was to keep you trapped all these years. A pathetic human playing pretend wolf. Stay gone or next time, we won't be so merciful."

I stared at the screen until the words blurred. Then I deleted the message.

Two hours later, a different nurse removed my IV and handed me discharge papers.

"The doctor recommends rest for at least a week," she said. "And you'll need to change that bandage daily."

I nodded absently, already thinking about my next move.

"Do you have someone picking you up?" she asked.

"No," I replied. "But I know where I'm going."

She gave me a worried look but didn't argue.

Outside, the afternoon sun felt too bright. I squinted against it as I hailed a taxi.

"Airport, please," I told the driver.

During the ride, I booked the first flight to Montana I could find. Then I texted my grandmother: "I'm on my way to take my place."

Her response came immediately: "It's about time. I've been waiting for you to remember who you are."

I leaned back against the seat, a strange calm settling over me. For five years, I'd tried to be what James and his pack wanted – quiet, submissive, grateful for scraps of affection. I'd erased myself to fit into their world.

Never again.

At the airport, I checked in with nothing but my purse and the clothes on my back. Everything else was gone, burned in a fire that probably had Sophia laughing.

Let her laugh. Let them all laugh.

As I waited at the gate, I caught my reflection in a window. I barely recognized myself. Pale face. Dark circles under my eyes. A bandage peeking out from my collar.

But there was something different too. Something in my eyes that hadn't been there before. A hardness. A purpose.

"Final boarding call for Flight 287 to Helena, Montana," the announcement echoed.

I stood, wincing at the pain in my shoulder. It would heal. Everything would, except the memories. Those I would keep – fuel for what was coming.

My phone buzzed again as I joined the boarding line. Unknown number.

"Ella, it's James. Come home. We need to talk."

Five little words. Five years ago, they would have sent me running back to him. Now they meant nothing.

I typed back four words: "I am going home."

Then I blocked his number.

The plane was half-empty. I had a row to myself, which was good. I needed space to think, to plan. My grandmother had been telling me for years that I had a place waiting for me – a birthright I'd been too afraid to claim.

I'd chosen James instead, believing his lies about love and protection. Choosing to be his Luna when I could have been so much more.

The flight attendant offered me a drink. I declined, closing my eyes as the plane climbed into the clouds.

My grandmother wasn't just any old woman living in the mountains. She was Marissa Hayes, the Alpha of the Grey Mountain pack – the oldest and most powerful wolf pack in North America. And I was her granddaughter, her heir.

But now I was going home. To learn. To change. To become what I was always meant to be.

The plane engines hummed, a steady rhythm like a heartbeat. Like a countdown.

Before turning my phone to airplane mode, I sent one final message. Not to Sophia, who wasn't worth my time. Not to Liam, who was just a child parroting his father's cruelty.

To James.

"I, Ella Hayes, reject you, James Turner, as my mate. Our bond is severed. You have no claim on me. You never did."

It's payback time.