
Luna Rejects Cheating Mate
Chapter 3
I paced across my office, my mind racing with possibilities, each more painful than the last. The omega's scent still lingered on my skin from our confrontation in the restroom, a constant reminder of my mate's betrayal.
"We need to talk," I whispered, activating the secure mind-link that connected me to Haley. The link hummed to life, warm and familiar.
"Nyla?" Haley's voice filled my head, alert and instantly concerned. "What's wrong? You sound... off."
"I need your legal expertise," I replied, keeping my mental voice steady despite the storm inside me. "And I need absolute secrecy."
There was a brief pause. "This is about Lane, isn't it?"
"Yes." I closed my eyes, gathering strength. "I think he's been cheating on me. With an omega from his company."
Haley's mental presence sharpened with protective fury. "Tell me everything."
I explained what I'd discovered so far—the strange woman in our home, Whiskers' unusual behavior, the perfume bottle, the blonde hairs on my pillow. With each detail, Haley's anger grew, her Beta protective instincts flaring through our connection.
"I need you to prepare the legal documents for mate bond rejection," I continued. "Just in case. And I need it done quietly."
"Consider it done," Haley replied without hesitation. "I'll gather evidence discreetly. No one will know until you're ready to make your move."
Relief washed over me. Haley had always been my rock, the one person I could count on without question.
"There's more," I added. "I think he's been using pack resources to fund this... whatever this is."
"I'll start digging immediately," Haley promised. "And Nyla? Don't confront him yet. Let me gather what we need first."
I ended the mind-link with a grateful squeeze of our connection. Having Haley on my side made this nightmare slightly more bearable.
---
My next step was to access Ariyah's social media accounts. If she was as careless as most young omegas, she might have left digital breadcrumbs.
I was right.
Her privacy settings were virtually nonexistent—a rookie mistake that spoke of either arrogance or naivety. Probably both.
"What have we here?" I murmured, scrolling through her profile.
The first few photos were innocent enough—work events, coffee shops, selfies with friends. But then I found them.
"Lane says this restaurant has the best steak in town," read the caption under a photo of her and Lane at an upscale restaurant I'd never been to.
The timestamp showed three weeks ago, when Lane had claimed to be working late on pack alliance documents.
I scrolled further, my stomach tightening with each new discovery.
"Shopping spree with my favorite person!" Another photo showed Lane holding bags from luxury stores, his arm around Ariyah's waist.
"Spa day! #blessed #pampered" This one had a geotag—the exclusive Mountain Springs Resort, where rooms started at $500 per night.
My fingers trembled as I kept scrolling, each image more damning than the last.
Then I found it.
The photo that shattered something inside me.
"Best anniversary surprise ever! #yachtlife #love"
The caption burned into my retinas as I stared at the image of Lane and Ariyah aboard my father's gift—the luxury yacht he'd given me for our mate ceremony anniversary. The very yacht Lane had claimed was "in for maintenance" that weekend.
The date stamp confirmed it. Our anniversary. The day Lane had texted that he had pack flu and needed rest.
They were on my yacht, drinking champagne, her head on his chest as they sailed into the sunset.
Something dark and primal stirred inside me. My wolf growled, clawing at my insides, demanding retribution.
"He gave her our anniversary," I whispered, tears burning behind my eyes but refusing to fall. "He gave her my yacht."
---
The final piece of evidence came that evening.
I sat in my father's study, accessing the pack's financial records. As Luna, I had full authority to review all expenditures, though I typically left the day-to-day management to our Beta accountant.
"Let's see what else you've been hiding," I muttered, pulling up the credit accounts my father had established for pack business expenses.
There they were—line after line of charges that had nothing to do with pack business.
"Cartier Jewelry, $3,200" read one entry from last month.
"Diamonds by Design, $5,700" showed another.
I dug deeper, finding charges for spa treatments, weekend getaways, even a down payment on a luxury apartment.
All charged to accounts that bore the Bennett Pack name.
All funded by my father's hard-earned wealth.
All for her.
I sat back in my chair, a cold clarity washing over me. This wasn't just betrayal—it was theft. It was exploitation of everything my family had built.
My phone buzzed with a text from Haley: "Found something you need to see. Coming over now."
I closed the financial records, my decision made. Lane Montgomery had made a grave mistake.
And he was about to learn exactly what happens when you cross a Luna with nothing left to lose.
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