Mate's Affair with Rival

The photographs scattered across Roman's desk like fallen leaves, each one a knife twisting deeper into my chest. Alessandra's face smiled up from every image—her hand intertwined with Roman's during what looked like a romantic dinner, her lips pressed against his cheek at some moonlit gathering, her body curved against his as they slow danced under stars I'd never seen.

My hands shook as I picked up the most damning one: Roman's arms wrapped around her waist, his face buried in her neck with an expression of pure contentment I hadn't seen directed at me in months.

"Roman." My voice cracked as he entered his office, freezing when he saw me standing behind his desk. "What are these?"

His face went through a series of expressions—surprise, guilt, then something that looked almost like relief before settling into cold defensiveness. "Mila, you shouldn't be going through my private papers."

"Private papers?" I held up the photograph of them kissing, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm. "These are pictures of you with another woman. Pictures of my mate betraying our bond."

Roman moved around the desk, but not toward me. Instead, he began shuffling papers with deliberate casualness, his eyes avoiding mine completely. "You're being paranoid. Alessandra is helping with crucial pack research. These photos are taken out of context."

"Out of context?" Luna snarled in my mind, her rage bleeding into my voice. "How exactly do you take a kiss out of context, Roman?"

He finally looked at me then, and what I saw in his amber eyes made my wolf whimper. There was no guilt, no remorse—only irritation at being caught. "Alessandra understands the importance of my work. She doesn't question every decision I make or create drama where none exists."

The words hit me like physical blows. I reached out instinctively, needing the comfort of his touch, the reassurance of our bond. But when my fingers brushed his arm, he recoiled as if I'd burned him.

"I don't have time for emotional dramatics, Mila." His voice carried the Alpha tone now, the one that demanded submission. "The pack's genealogy research is critical, and I won't have you undermining important work with your jealousy."

Jealousy. He called my heartbreak jealousy.

I stared at the stranger wearing my mate's face, this cold, dismissive man who had once promised to love me until his last breath. The photographs fluttered to the floor as my hands went numb, each image a testament to how thoroughly I'd been replaced.

"Six years," I whispered, more to myself than to him. "Six years of believing in us, in our bond."

Roman was already turning away, his attention back on his papers. "I have work to do. We'll discuss this later when you're being more rational."

But there would be no later discussion. We both knew it.

I left his office on unsteady legs, the mate mark on my neck burning like a brand of shame. The pack house felt different as I walked through it—too bright, too loud, the familiar walls seeming to close in around me. By the time I reached our bedroom, my entire body was trembling.

That's when the pain hit.

It started as a sharp stabbing sensation in my chest, radiating outward like lightning through my veins. I doubled over, gasping as Luna howled in distress within my mind. My wolf felt... distant somehow, as if she were calling to me from across a vast, growing chasm.

"Luna?" I whispered, reaching for our connection.

Her response was weak, fragmented. Where once our bond had been strong and constant, now there were only faint echoes of her presence. Panic clawed at my throat as I stumbled to the bathroom mirror.

The woman staring back at me was a stranger. My usually bright green eyes had dulled to the color of old moss, and my skin held a grayish pallor that made me look ill. But it was Luna's absence that terrified me most—the growing silence where her voice should be.

I pressed my hands against the mirror, watching my reflection blur as tears finally came. "What's happening to us?"

But Luna couldn't answer. She was fading, and I was utterly, completely alone.

The tremors started then—violent shaking that I couldn't control, as if my body were rejecting itself from the inside out. I slid down the bathroom wall, curling into myself as wave after wave of pain crashed over me.

Something was very, very wrong. And with Roman's betrayal fresh in my mind and Luna's voice growing fainter by the hour, I realized with crystalline clarity that I had nowhere to turn.

No one to trust.

No one to save me from whatever darkness was consuming my wolf—and my soul.