Moving on from My Mate

My hand tightened around the phone, my fingers trembling as I read the messages between Ezra Silvan, my mate, and his packmates. “The poor little she-wolf probably doesn’t even know your real mate, Lyra, is coming back,” Ezra’s Beta had commented. A cold ache settled in my chest. The "little she-wolf" they referred to was unmistakably me. I’d seen this before in Ezra’s conversations with his friends. And Lyra—his “real mate”—was a she-wolf of another pack? “What will you do when Lyra gets back?” Ezra’s Gamma asked. “She won’t put up with your little she-wolf.” “I’ll handle it,” Ezra replied, his words casual, almost too calm. My blood went cold. “Handle it”? Was that his way of saying he’d be rid of me? Before I could process that thought, another friend piped up. “You’re not planning to ditch her, are you?” “Can’t do that,” Ezra replied, as if it were a trivial matter. “She’s been in my bed for five years.” The chat filled with laughing emojis. My hand clenched into a fist. To Ezra and his pack, I was nothing but a placeholder—an inconvenience until Lyra returned. “Don’t be that guy, man. If Alpha Dorian finds out, you’re really in for it.” “What’s the problem?” came the dismissive reply. “If Dorian and his sister are fine with it, I can be Ezra’s mistress too.” My grip on the phone tightened until my fingers began to ache. I could barely breathe as I waited for Ezra’s response. “I’ll make it up to Cressida,” he wrote flatly, like he was signing off on a business deal. “After all, she’s been with me for five years.” The group exploded with more crude jokes. “She must perform great in bed if she’s stuck around this long, second only to Lyra.” “Of course. Cressida seems so obedient. It’s always the quiet ones who surprise you…”