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After My Mate Chose His Mistress Over Me Novel Cover

After My Mate Chose His Mistress Over Me

I stand before the mirror in our bedroom—mine and Raylan's—though it hasn't felt like ours in months. My fingers work through my hair, braiding it in that familiar pattern I've done since I was a girl. Mom always said I braided when I was nervous, and tonight, the Blood Moon festival has my stomach in knots. The mating mark on my neck catches my eye. I touch it, and the skin feels cold. Wrong. It should pulse with warmth, with the connection between me and my Alpha, my mate. Instead, it's like touching ice. *Raylan?* I reach out through our mind-link, trying to coordinate our entrance to the ceremony. As Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, I'm supposed to enter the hall on his arm, a united front for our people.
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Chapter 3

"I want an abortion."

The words come out raw, desperate. I'm still in the hospital bed, Marcus hovering near the door like he wants to disappear into the walls.

Raylan's expression doesn't change. "No."

"It's my body. My choice. I won't—I can't—" My voice breaks. "Please, Raylan. Please don't make me do this."

He moves closer, and his Alpha aura fills the room like smoke, thick and suffocating. I can't breathe. Can't think.

"You will carry this pup, Phoebe." His voice drops into that tone—the Alpha Voice that makes every wolf in the pack bow their head. "You will not harm it. You will birth my heir."

The command slams into me like a physical blow. My body locks up, every muscle freezing against my will. Inside my mind, Sera howls, a sound of pure agony that tears through my consciousness. She's trapped. We're both trapped.

I try to move my hand toward my stomach, try to fight the command, but my arm won't obey. It's like invisible chains wrap around every part of me.

"No," I whisper, but even my voice sounds weak. Broken.

Raylan turns to Marcus. "She's to remain under observation for another week. Then she returns to the Alpha suite."

He walks out without looking back.

---

Two months crawl by like years.

The Alpha suite has become my prison. Guards stand outside the door—not my loyal Gammas, but warriors I don't recognize. Warriors who answer to Piper, not me.

The Alpha Command holds me like invisible shackles. Every time I think about ending this nightmare, my body refuses to cooperate. I can't even press too hard on my stomach. Can't fall deliberately. Can't do anything that might harm the thing growing inside me.

Sera has gone silent. I reach for her constantly, but she's buried so deep I can barely feel her presence.

Tonight, rain hammers against the windows. The sound matches the chaos in my head. I pace the bedroom, my hand unconsciously touching the mate mark on my neck. Still cold. Still wrong.

The bathroom window. I've been watching it for days, measuring the distance to the ground. Three floors. High enough.

The Alpha Command won't let me hurt myself directly, but maybe—maybe if I fall, if the impact is severe enough, my wolf healing won't be fast enough to save the pregnancy. Maybe I can end this without technically breaking the command.

I climb onto the toilet, then the windowsill. Rain soaks through my nightgown immediately. The ledge is narrow, slippery. Perfect.

I edge along the wall, my bare feet struggling for purchase on the wet stone. Below, the courtyard stretches out, dark and empty. Just a few more steps. Just a little further.

The bedroom door explodes inward.

Raylan's there, his eyes wild, his Alpha aura blazing. He must have felt my intent through the bond—that cursed connection that won't let me go even as it slowly kills me.

"Phoebe!" His voice cracks with something that might be fear, but I don't care anymore.

I lean forward, ready to let gravity take me.

His hand closes around my wrist like a vice. He yanks me backward with enough force to slam me against his chest. We crash onto the bathroom floor together, and he pins me there, his weight crushing.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Not fear in his voice now. Fury. Pure, burning fury.

"Let me go," I gasp. "Just let me go."

"Never." His grip tightens. "You're mine, Phoebe. That pup is mine. And you will obey."

---

The next morning, everything changes.

My loyal guards are gone, replaced by six warriors who watch me like I'm a criminal. Raylan dismisses them all with a wave, then produces a length of chain from behind his back.

Silver-infused. I can smell it from across the room.

"No," I back away, but there's nowhere to go. "Raylan, please—"

He grabs my ankle and locks the shackle around it with a click that sounds like a death sentence. The other end attaches to the bedpost. The silver burns, a constant ache that makes Sera whimper.

"You brought this on yourself," he says, his voice flat. Empty.

Marcus arrives an hour later, carrying a glass vial filled with dark liquid. His hands shake as he approaches the bed.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, not meeting my eyes. "Alpha's orders."

The tonic tastes like dirt and despair. It burns going down, and I gag, but Raylan's there, holding my jaw, forcing me to swallow.

"This will strengthen the pregnancy," Marcus explains, his voice barely audible. "Even if you... even if there's trauma, the pup will survive."

I want to scream. Want to fight. But the silver chain saps my strength, and the Alpha Command holds me frozen.

Piper appears in the doorway, leaning against the frame like she owns the place. The moonstone necklace—my necklace, the one Raylan was supposed to give me—glints at her throat.

She smiles, slow and satisfied, her fingers playing with the pendant.

"Comfortable, Luna?" she asks, her voice dripping with false concern.

I close my eyes and turn my face to the wall.

The chain rattles with every breath.

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