After My Alpha Chose His Mistress Over His Mother

The heavy steel door of the walk-in freezer loomed before me, its surface gleaming under the harsh kitchen lights. I struggled against Ryan's iron grip, my heels scraping uselessly against the polished floor.

"Ryan, please!" I sobbed, my voice breaking. "This is insane! Your mother is dying!"

His eyes were cold, devoid of any emotion as he and Alaina dragged me toward the freezer. The industrial handle felt like ice against my skin as Ryan wrenched the door open.

"Consider yourself lucky," he growled, his breath hot against my face. "If you weren't my Luna, you'd be facing worse than this."

Alaina's laugh echoed in the empty kitchen. "Much worse," she agreed, her fingers digging into my arm.

I thrashed wildly, fighting against their grip. "You can't do this! I'm your mate!"

"You're a liar and an embarrassment," Ryan spat, his Alpha aura expanding around us like a suffocating cloud.

Together, they shoved me forward. I stumbled, my sequined gown catching on the freezer's threshold. For one desperate moment, I clung to the doorframe, my nails scraping against the metal.

"Let me go!" I screamed, my voice raw from pleading.

Ryan's hand slammed into my back, pushing me into the darkness. I fell forward, my knees hitting the frozen floor with a painful crack.

"Maybe an hour or two in here will teach you some respect," Alaina said, her voice dripping with false concern.

The heavy door swung shut behind me. I heard the decisive click of the external lock being thrown.

"Ryan!" I pounded on the door, my fists already growing numb from the cold. "Don't do this!"

Their footsteps receded down the corridor, leaving me alone in the pitch-black freezer.

"Ryan!" I screamed again, my voice echoing off the metal walls. "Your mother needs me!"

Silence was my only answer.

I spun around, my eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness. The freezer was massive—a commercial unit designed to store meat for the pack's gatherings. Rows of hanging carcasses surrounded me, their frozen flesh gleaming faintly in the darkness.

"Margaret," I whispered, my teeth beginning to chatter. "Hold on. Please hold on."

The cold hit me like a physical blow. It wasn't the natural chill of winter or even the controlled temperature of an operating room. This was something else entirely—a violent, aggressive cold that seemed to seep into my bones.

"Lily," I called internally, reaching for my wolf. "Lily, we need to shift."

Inside me, Lily stirred weakly. "Sylvia," she whimpered, her voice fainter than I'd ever heard it. "I can't... it's too cold..."

I stumbled forward, my arms wrapped around myself. "We have to try. We'll freeze otherwise."

Werewolves could normally shift to regulate their body temperature, our wolf forms better equipped to handle extreme conditions. But the cold in this freezer seemed to target Lily specifically, suppressing her presence in my mind.

"Sylvia," Lily's voice grew fainter, "I can't reach you anymore..."

Panic surged through me as I realized what was happening. The extreme cold was suppressing my wolf, trapping me in my human form with its limited ability to withstand such temperatures.

I stumbled forward, my breath coming in short, painful gasps. The cold bit through my thin gown, gnawing at my flesh. My fingers were already growing numb, my toes losing sensation.

"Got to... find a way out," I muttered, my words slurring slightly.

My eyes caught a faint glow from the far wall—the internal intercom system. A lifeline.

I staggered toward it, my legs trembling beneath me. The cold seemed to press against me from all sides, a physical weight that made each step a battle.

"Almost... there..." I gasped, reaching out with trembling fingers.

The intercom panel was mounted at chest height, its buttons glowing faintly in the darkness. I pressed the button with numb fingers, praying it would work.

"Hello?" I called, my voice shaking. "Can anyone hear me?"

Static was my only answer.

I pressed the button again, harder this time. "Ryan!" I shouted, my voice cracking. "If you can hear me, check your mind-link! Call the hospital!"

I leaned my forehead against the cold metal wall, my breath forming clouds of vapor in the frigid air.

"Please," I whispered, no longer sure if anyone could hear me. "Please, just check. Your mother's life depends on it."

The cold seemed to intensify around me, creeping deeper into my bones with each passing second. My right hand—my surgical hand—felt like a block of ice, the fingers barely responsive to my commands.

"Margaret," I murmured, my vision beginning to blur at the edges. "I'm so sorry. I tried..."

The intercom remained silent, offering no hope of rescue. In the distance, I could hear the faint sound of music from the gala, muffled but unmistakable.

They were celebrating while I froze. While Margaret died.

I slumped against the wall, my strength fading as the cold continued its relentless assault. My wolf was silent now, suppressed by the extreme temperature.

How long had I been in here? Minutes? Hours?

The cold was winning. And with each passing second, Margaret's chances of survival diminished.

"Ryan," I whispered into the intercom one last time, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. "Please..."

The darkness closed in around me as consciousness began to slip away.