My Alpha Crowned His Mistress at Our Ceremony

The murmurs of the crowd grew louder, a buzz of shock and disgust that pressed against my skin like physical blows. I stood frozen, my fingers digging into my palms as Mason's gaze finally met mine—not with apology, but with cold calculation.

"Silence!" Mason's voice boomed across the Great Hall, enhanced by the steroids I'd procured for him. The pack members flinched, their voices dying instantly under the artificial weight of his command.

I watched as he stepped forward, one hand resting possessively on Aura's lower back. Her smile was triumphant, her perfectly manicured nails curling into his ceremonial robes.

"My loyal pack," Mason began, his voice carrying that unnatural resonance that made my wolf whimper. "I understand your shock. The footage you've seen tonight reveals a truth that, until now, I have protected you from."

My throat tightened. Protected them? He'd protected himself—his fragile ego, his political ambitions.

"Jocelyn Foster has served this pack in... unconventional ways," he continued, his tone dripping with false benevolence. "But her methods are beneath the dignity of a Luna."

The pack shifted uncomfortably, their eyes darting between me and the royal couple on the dais. I could smell their judgment—their revulsion.

"However," Mason's voice softened, "I am not a cruel Alpha. I recognize that even one such as Jocelyn has her... purposes."

Aura's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Indeed," she purred. "Every pack has its necessities."

Mason nodded, then turned to address the crowd again. "Therefore, I propose an arrangement that will benefit us all. Aura Dean will be our Royal Luna—the face of our pack, the mother of our future heirs."

The pack erupted in approving howls. Aura's father, Marcus Dean, stood proudly at the front, his chest puffed out in satisfaction.

"As for Jocelyn," Mason continued once the noise died down, "she will serve as Pack Mistress."

The term hit me like a physical blow. Pack Mistress—a euphemism for a breeding vessel, a wolf kept for her fertility but denied any status or respect.

"She will reside in the servant's quarters and attend to the Alpha's... personal needs," Mason explained, his clinical tone stripping away the last shreds of my dignity. "This arrangement allows us to maintain our alliance with the Dean Pack while acknowledging Jocelyn's service."

I couldn't breathe. The room spun around me as whispers erupted throughout the hall.

"No," I whispered, backing toward the exit. "No, this isn't what we agreed."

Luna snarled within me, her rage burning through my veins. *Run! We need to run!*

I turned and pushed through the crowd, ignoring the stares and whispers. The heavy wooden doors of the Great Hall loomed ahead—freedom, escape from this nightmare.

I was almost there when a familiar scent hit me—cheap whiskey and desperation.

"Jocelyn!" My father's voice cracked as he lunged from the shadows, tackling me to the ground just inches from the exit.

"Let me go!" I screamed, struggling against his weight.

Harold Foster pinned me down, his breath hot against my face. "You ungrateful little bitch," he hissed, his eyes wild with fear. "After everything I've sacrificed for you!"

"You're ruining everything!" he shouted, dragging me back toward the dais as I fought against his grip. "Do you know what happens to us if you leave? The creditors—the Rogues—they'll kill us!"

The pack watched in stunned silence as my father hauled me across the floor, my dress tearing, my dignity in tatters.

"Please," I begged, looking up at Mason. "Don't do this."

Mason descended from the dais, his Alpha robes sweeping across the floor. He towered over me, his eyes cold.

"Submit," he commanded, his enhanced Alpha tone pressing down on me like a physical weight.

I fought against it, muscles straining, blood trickling from my nose as I resisted the unnatural command.

"I said SUBMIT!" Mason roared, his Alpha tone crushing me down.

My knees hit the floor hard as I collapsed before Aura. She extended one foot, the hem of her Luna robes brushing against my face.

"Kiss it," Mason ordered, his voice soft but merciless. "Show your respect for your Luna."

"I can't," I gasped, blood dripping onto the marble floor as I fought against his command.

"You can," he insisted. "And you will."

Aura's smile widened as she watched me struggle, my body trembling with the effort to resist the Alpha command.

Slowly, agonizingly, my head bowed lower. The scent of her expensive perfume filled my nostrils as my lips approached the hem of her robe.

The pack watched in silence as I was forced to my knees, humiliated before them all.