
After My Mate Chose His Mistress Over Me
Chapter 3
I stared at my phone, Blake Harrison's contact glowing on the screen. My finger hovered over the call button as doubt crashed through me. What was I thinking? Calling an Alpha I barely knew to beg for help? But Lyra's certainty pulsed through our shared consciousness, pushing me forward when every human instinct screamed to retreat.
Before I could reconsider, I pressed call. Each ring echoed my thundering heartbeat until—
"Madison Parker." His voice was deep, resonant, carrying the natural authority of an Alpha even through the phone. "It's been a while."
My throat closed up. How did he even remember me? We'd met at inter-pack gatherings years ago, exchanged perhaps a dozen words total.
"I—" My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard. "I need help."
The line went quiet for a moment. When Blake spoke again, his tone had shifted, a protective edge emerging. "What's happened?"
The dam broke. Words tumbled out in a chaotic rush—Ryan's betrayal, Chloe's pregnancy, the humiliating three-way arrangement proposal. My voice shook with each revelation, tears streaming down my face as I laid bare the most devastating night of my life to a virtual stranger.
"And I know this is insane," I whispered, "but my wolf says... she says you're meant to help me. That I should ask for an immediate mate bond."
I squeezed my eyes shut, mortification burning through me. I'd just proposed to an Alpha I barely knew. He would think I was desperate or unhinged or both.
"Your wolf is right," Blake said simply.
My eyes flew open. "What?"
"I'll be there tomorrow night," he continued, his voice calm but resolute. "We have much to discuss, Madison. But know this—what Ryan has done is unacceptable. No true mate would ever betray their bond this way."
Relief and confusion warred within me. "You'll really come?"
"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "Try to rest now. You're not alone in this anymore."
After we disconnected, I collapsed back onto my bed, emotionally drained but with Lyra finally quiet, almost... satisfied.
* * *
I was making tea the following evening when I felt them before I heard them—Ryan and Chloe's combined presence approaching my cabin. Lyra bristled, her hackles rising as our territory was invaded.
The door burst open without a knock. Ryan strode in first, his Beta authority preceding him like a cold front. Chloe followed, her hand resting protectively over her still-flat stomach, wearing Ryan's leather jacket like a trophy.
"We need to talk about arrangements," Ryan announced, as if he owned the place. As if he owned me.
Chloe didn't wait for an invitation. She made straight for my couch and sprawled across it dramatically, one hand still on her belly. "I'm famished," she complained. "And nauseous. Don't you have any of those special broths ready?"
I stared at her, incredulous. She was referring to the traditional nourishing broths that mates prepared for pregnant she-wolves—a sacred pack tradition of care and protection.
"Get out," I said quietly.
Ryan ignored me completely. He moved to my kitchen, opening cabinets. "Where do you keep the wolf-herbs? Chloe needs the morning sickness remedy. You should have started preparing it already."
"I said get out." My voice was stronger now, Lyra's anger feeding mine.
Ryan whirled around, his eyes flashing yellow. "Don't be difficult, Madison. You know pregnant wolves need special care. It's pack law."
"She is not my responsibility," I said, each word deliberate. "You are no longer my mate."
The words hung in the air between us. Ryan's face contorted with rage. In three quick strides, he crossed the room and grabbed my arm, fingers digging painfully into my flesh.
"You don't get to decide that," he snarled, shaking me. His Beta dominance flared, pressing down on me like a physical weight. Through our damaged bond, I felt his wolf snarling, trying to force Lyra into submission.
"You will accept this arrangement," he continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You will prepare the broths, you will help care for my pup, and you will remember your place."
Lyra, who had been subdued for so long under Ryan's influence, suddenly roared to life within me. Her fury crashed through my body like lightning, electrifying every cell. For the first time in months, I felt her power—our power—surging back.
Something in my eyes must have changed because Ryan's grip faltered, uncertainty flickering across his face.
"Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me." My voice didn't sound like my own anymore. It was Lyra and me together, a harmony of rage and awakening strength.
Ryan's fingers tightened one last time, a final attempt at dominance before everything changed.
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