Luna Rejects Cheating Mate

I smoothed down the front of my traditional Luna ceremonial dress, the silver embroidery catching the light as I moved. Three years. Three perfect years with my mate, and tonight I wanted everything to be perfect.

"Do you think he'll like the surprise?" I asked my reflection, adjusting the moonstone pendant that had been my mother's. It was the last thing she'd given me before passing, and I wore it only on special occasions.

My wolf, Aria, purred with satisfaction. *He'll love it. You've prepared his favorite meal.*

I glanced at the dining room table, set with our finest china and candles. The roast was resting, vegetables steaming, and a bottle of aged red wine—Tyson's favorite—hidden in the car for the final touch.

"He should be home any minute," I murmured, checking my phone. No messages. That was odd. Tyson usually sent at least one text during the day.

I headed to the garage, the concrete cool beneath my bare feet. "Just need to grab the wine," I said aloud, more to myself than anyone else.

When I opened the driver's door, something felt wrong immediately. The seat was pushed forward, far closer to the steering wheel than I ever positioned it. My brows furrowed as I adjusted it back.

"That's strange," I muttered, sliding in. "I'm the only one who drives this car."

Then it hit me—a scent that didn't belong. My Luna senses flared instantly, detecting the unmistakable floral notes of cheap perfume mingled with something else. Something intimate. Something that made Aria growl deep in my consciousness.

*Danger,* she warned, hackles rising. *Someone else has been in our space.*

I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes to focus. The scent was definitely feminine—a she-wolf had been here. Recently. And not just in the car. On my mate.

"No," I whispered, my hand flying to my chest where our mate bond pulsed weakly. It should have been strong today, vibrant with three years of shared love and loyalty. Instead, it felt... diminished. Distant.

Aria's growl turned to a whine. *Something's wrong with our bond.*

---

The bell above the pack bakery door jingled cheerfully as I entered, a stark contrast to the heaviness in my heart. I forced a smile, knowing the Omega workers would be watching for any sign of distress from their Luna.

"Luna Lina!" Eleanor Grant, the bakery owner, approached with her usual warmth. "What brings you in today?"

"Just wanted to order a special anniversary cake," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "Something chocolate with raspberry filling."

"Of course," Eleanor nodded, gesturing to a young woman behind the counter. "Annie will help you with that."

Annie Stone looked up, and I caught the flash of panic in her eyes before she lowered them respectfully. "Yes, Luna. What size would you like?"

Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the order pad, and she couldn't quite meet my gaze. Normal Omega deference? Perhaps. But Aria was already circling, sniffing at the air.

*There,* my wolf whispered. *That's the scent.*

I stepped closer to Annie, pretending to examine the cake display. The floral perfume was stronger here, mixed with something else—something distinctly male. Cedar and leather. Tyson's scent.

My stomach clenched as I detected traces of him on her skin, in her hair. Not just a passing interaction. This was intimate contact. Regular contact.

Eleanor appeared at my side, her expression carefully neutral. "Will that be all, Luna?"

Something in her eyes—sympathy, perhaps even knowledge—told me she'd seen something. Knew something.

"Yes, thank you," I managed, paying for the cake I no longer wanted.

---

That evening, Tyson swept through our front door with an armful of roses and a jeweler's box.

"Happy anniversary, my love," he said, kissing me with unusual fervor. Too much fervor. Too much cologne to mask... something else.

"You're so thoughtful," I replied, accepting the gifts but studying his face. His phone buzzed incessantly in his pocket, and he kept glancing at it.

"Just pack business," he assured me, though his smile didn't reach his eyes.

During dinner, I watched him carefully. "The car seat was adjusted when I went to get the wine earlier."

"Oh?" He paused, fork halfway to his mouth. "Sometimes pack members borrow vehicles for errands. I must have forgotten to mention it."

The lie slid smoothly from his lips, but I felt it through our bond—a slight tremor of deception.

Later, after he'd fallen asleep, I slipped from our bed and made my way to his office. My Luna authority codes granted me access to the pack's security system.

"What are you hiding, Tyson?" I whispered to the screen as footage began to play.

Hours of mundane bakery deliveries and pack meetings scrolled by until—there. The bakery storage room. Tyson's back against the wall, Annie pressed against him, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

"That's not all," I breathed, fast-forwarding through weeks of recordings.

Then I saw it—my mother's Alpha heritage necklace gleaming at Annie's throat as she leaned into my mate's embrace.

Aria howled in rage and pain. *He gave her our mother's legacy.*