Betrayed by My Alpha Mate

When Timothy came home that evening, I was just setting the last bowl of soup on the dining table. He walked up behind me, his presence immediately commanding the room as always, his Alpha aura wrapping around me like a heavy cloak. His arms slid around my waist, and he rested his chin on my shoulder, giving a gentle nuzzle.

"Having a Luna is such a blessing," he murmured, his voice low and warm against my ear. "Coming home to a warm meal, to you."

As he leaned in closer, I caught a whiff of an unfamiliar scent—something floral, faint but unmistakable. It wasn’t mine. My wolf stirred in the back of my mind, a low growl of suspicion that I quickly suppressed. My body tensed, but I kept my composure, gently moving his hands away.

"Go wash up, Alpha," I said softly, using his title out of habit and respect, though the word felt heavier on my tongue than usual.

He turned away, and as soon as his back was to me, the smile I had been holding slipped away, leaving my face cold and stern.

Once we were seated at the table, he barely looked up from his phone, tapping away with occasional smiles, his mind clearly elsewhere. The dining room, usually a place of comfort and connection, felt hollow now, the silence between us thick with unspoken tension.

I glanced over, pretending to be curious. "What’s got you so amused, Alpha?"

He snapped his head up, our eyes locking for a brief moment. I saw a flicker of panic in his dark eyes, but he quickly masked it with a casual smile.

"Just some pack members chatting in the group chat," he said, his tone light. "Some silly jokes."

Playing along, I feigned interest. "Let me see."

He immediately switched off the screen, placing his phone face down on the table with an air of indifference. "Oh, it’s nothing important," he replied, avoiding my gaze. "Let’s eat before the food gets cold."

The light in my eyes dimmed quietly. The once-shy boy I had known in pack school, the one who had confessed his feelings to me with a trembling voice and a blush that rivaled the setting sun, had become someone who could lie without hesitation. In that moment, a wave of disappointment washed over me, heavier than I had ever felt.

The aroma of spiced honey cake mingled with the rich scent of pulled pork and ravioli from our usual Thanksgiving dinner. The Victorian-style dress I wore felt suffocating, tightening around my growing unease. As I sipped my coffee, I couldn’t help but reflect on how the comforting rituals of home—our home, the one we had built together over the years—felt like a distant memory, replaced by this hollow charade.

My wolf growled again, louder this time, her voice sharp in my mind. *He’s hiding something.*

I clenched my fists under the table, my nails digging into my palms. *I know.*

But I forced myself to stay calm, to keep my mask in place. For now, I would play along. I would watch, and wait, and when the time came, I would be ready to face whatever truth lay behind his lies.