Alpha Pays for Deception

The pack house felt different tonight, though I couldn't place why until Charles walked through the front door at nearly midnight. The familiar sound of his boots on the hardwood should have brought comfort after his long patrol, but instead, something twisted in my stomach.

He moved with that same confident Alpha stride, his dark hair tousled from the wind, but there was something else. Something that made my wolf stir uneasily within me.

"You're late," I said softly from where I sat curled on the leather sofa, a half-finished cup of chamomile tea growing cold in my hands.

Charles barely glanced my way as he shrugged off his jacket. "Patrol ran long. You know how it is."

But I didn't know how it was. Not anymore. Because as he moved closer, that wrongness I'd sensed crystallized into something concrete, something that made my Luna instincts scream in alarm.

Wolfsbane.

The bitter, metallic scent clung to his clothes like a second skin, wafted from his breath when he spoke. It was faint but unmistakable to someone who'd spent five years as his mate, five years learning every nuance of his scent.

My teacup rattled against the saucer as I set it down with trembling hands. "Charles."

Something in my tone made him pause halfway up the stairs. When he turned back, his green eyes held that familiar impatience he wore whenever I interrupted his routines.

"What is it, Layla? I'm tired."

"You smell like wolfsbane."

The words hung between us like a blade. For just a moment, something flickered across his face—surprise? Fear? But it vanished so quickly I might have imagined it.

"That's impossible," he said, his voice carrying that Alpha authority that usually made pack members lower their eyes. "You know wolfsbane makes me violently ill. Even trace amounts would have me doubled over for hours."

I stood slowly, my silk nightgown whispering against my legs. "Then explain the scent, Charles. Explain why you reek of it."

His jaw tightened. "Maybe your nose is off. Pregnancy can affect scent sensitivity, can't it?"

The casual cruelty of using our pup—our three-year-old son sleeping peacefully upstairs—as a deflection made something cold settle in my chest. "I'm not pregnant, Charles. And my nose is perfectly fine."

Before he could respond, the familiar tingle of the pack mind-link brushed against my consciousness. But this wasn't the general pack channel—this was private, intimate, meant for Charles alone.

*Charles?* Elle Webb's voice whispered through the mental connection, honey-sweet and far too familiar. *You left your ceremonial ring at my quarters during our consultation tonight. Should I bring it by, or would you prefer to collect it tomorrow?*

The mind-link wasn't meant for me, but as Charles's mate, as his Luna, the bond between us made his private channels accessible to me. Elle either didn't know this or didn't care.

I watched Charles's face as Elle's words reached him, saw the way his eyes widened slightly before that familiar mask of Alpha composure slid back into place.

"Your ceremonial ring?" My voice came out steadier than I felt. "The one that belonged to your father? The one you swore you'd never remove except for the most sacred of occasions?"

Charles's hands clenched at his sides. "Layla—"

"The one you told me you were wearing during tonight's patrol?" I took a step closer, and he actually backed away from me. "Tell me, Charles, what kind of consultation with our pack healer requires you to remove your ceremonial ring? What kind of consultation happens so late at night that she's only now remembering to return it?"

"You're being paranoid." But his voice lacked conviction now, and something desperate crept into his tone. "Elle is our healer. Sometimes pack members need private consultations—"

"While reeking of wolfsbane?" The words came out sharper than I intended. "While lying to your mate about your whereabouts? While removing sacred jewelry that you've worn every day for the past five years?"

Charles's Alpha aura flared, pressing against me with familiar dominance. Once, that power had made me feel protected, cherished. Now it felt like a cage.

"Enough." His voice carried the Alpha command that could bring wolves to their knees. "You're making something out of nothing, Layla. I don't have to explain every moment of my day to you."

The dismissal hit me like a physical blow. Five years of devotion, five years of standing by his side as his Luna, reduced to paranoid jealousy in his eyes.

"Nothing?" I whispered, and my wolf finally retreated completely, pulling back from our mate bond with a pain that left me breathless. "Is that what our bond means to you now? Nothing?"

Charles turned away, already climbing the stairs. "I'm going to bed. We'll discuss this when you're being rational."

I stood alone in our living room, surrounded by five years of memories and the lingering scent of wolfsbane and betrayal, finally understanding that the man I'd mated with had been lying to me far longer than I'd ever imagined.