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My Alpha Locked Me Away for His Mistress Novel Cover

My Alpha Locked Me Away for His Mistress

The first thing I notice is the pain. It's everywhere—a dull, throbbing ache that pulses through my skull like someone's taken a hammer to it. My eyelids feel heavy, weighted down, and when I finally manage to pry them open, harsh fluorescent lights stab into my vision. I wince, turning my head away, and that's when the panic sets in. Where am I? The room smells sterile. Antiseptic. There's the steady beep of a heart monitor somewhere to my left, and beneath that, the faint scent of pine and earth. Pack territory. The knowledge comes instinctively, though I can't explain how I know it.
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Chapter 3

Nico doesn't let go of my hands. His grip is warm, steady, and for a moment I forget about the scrub brush and the cold marble beneath my knees.

"I need to speak with Alpha Stone," he says, his voice tight. "Now."

Before I can respond, footsteps echo down the hallway. Mommy appears, her smile bright and false.

"Beta Lewis," she says, her tone dripping honey. "What a lovely surprise. I'm afraid the Alpha is quite busy—"

"I don't care." Nico stands, pulling me up with him. My legs wobble. "I need to see him. It's urgent pack business."

Mommy's eyes narrow for just a second before the smile returns. "Of course. Follow me."

She leads us through the pack house, her heels clicking against the floor. Nico keeps his hand on my elbow, steadying me, and I'm grateful because the world keeps tilting sideways.

Daddy's office is all dark wood and leather. He sits behind a massive desk, papers spread before him, and doesn't look up when we enter.

"Alpha Stone," Nico says, and there's an edge to his voice I've never heard before. "What the hell is going on here?"

Daddy's head snaps up. His eyes flash with something dangerous. "Watch your tone, Beta."

"Watch my tone?" Nico's hand tightens on my arm. "Your Luna is scrubbing floors like an Omega. She's half-starved and clearly being poisoned with wolfsbane. And you're sitting here doing paperwork?"

The word Luna makes my head spin. That's not right. I'm not—

"This is a family matter," Daddy says, his voice cold as winter. "Lyla is... unwell. Mentally. The fall damaged more than just her body."

"So you demote her? Humiliate her?"

"I'm protecting her." Daddy stands, and the power rolling off him makes my knees weak. "She can't handle Luna responsibilities in her current state. It would destroy what's left of her mind."

The door opens again. Mommy glides in, carrying a tray with tea. She sets it on the desk and moves to Daddy's side, placing a hand on his arm.

"Poor Nico," she says softly. "You don't understand. We're doing everything we can for her. It's been so hard, watching her struggle like this." Her voice cracks, and I see tears shimmer in her eyes. "I barely sleep anymore, making sure she's safe."

Nico stares at her. Then at Daddy. Then at me.

"This is insane," he says quietly.

Daddy's jaw clenches. "You're dismissed, Beta Lewis. And if you value your alliance with this pack, you'll keep your opinions to yourself."

The threat hangs in the air. Nico's hand falls from my arm, and I feel the loss of his warmth like a physical blow.

He moves toward the door, then pauses beside me. "Lyla," he says, so soft only I can hear. "You dropped something."

His hand brushes my apron pocket. I feel something small and folded slip inside.

"Let me help you up," he says louder, offering his hand. I take it, and he squeezes once before letting go. "Take care of yourself."

Then he's gone.

Mommy escorts me back to my room. "Don't listen to him, darling," she says. "He doesn't understand how delicate you are right now."

I nod, but my hand keeps drifting to my pocket.

That night, after Mommy brings me the bitter tea and leaves, I pull out the note. My hands shake as I unfold it.

The words are written in neat, careful script: You are a Luna, not a child. Watch their eyes, not their smiles.

Luna. There's that word again. It makes my wolf stir, pushing against the fog in my mind.

I read it three more times before hiding it under my mattress.

An hour later, my stomach cramps. Hard. I double over, gasping, as pain rips through my gut. The tea. Something in the tea.

I stumble to Mommy's room and knock weakly. "Mommy? I don't feel good."

The door opens. For just a second—one brief, horrible second—I see her face. The sneer. The cold satisfaction in her eyes.

Then it's gone, replaced by concern. "Oh, sweetheart, come here."

But I saw it. I saw it.

Watch their eyes, not their smiles.

My wolf growls, a sound I haven't heard in weeks. The fog around her starts to thin, just a little.

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.

Three days later, the pack house buzzes with activity. Regional Alphas are arriving for some kind of treaty signing. I watch from the kitchen as Mommy directs the staff, her voice sharp and commanding.

She spots me and smiles. "Lyla, darling. I have a special job for you today."

My stomach drops.

"You're going to serve coffee to our guests," she says. "It'll be good practice for you."

"But... my hands..." I hold them up. They're shaking worse than ever after this morning's tea.

"You'll be fine," she says, pressing a silver tray into my grip. "Just be careful."

The conference room is full of powerful wolves. I can feel their dominance pressing against my skin as I enter. Daddy sits at the head of the table, and beside him—

Mommy. Sitting in the Luna's chair.

My wolf snarls.

I move around the table, pouring coffee with trembling hands. The visiting Alphas watch me with a mixture of pity and disdain. One of them—a gray-haired man with cold eyes—holds out his cup.

"Careful, girl," he says.

I lift the pot. My hands shake. The tremor hits just as I start to pour.

Scalding coffee splashes across the treaty documents spread before him. The Alpha jerks back with a curse. Brown liquid spreads across the papers, destroying hours of careful negotiation.

The room goes silent.

Daddy's eyes meet mine, and what I see there makes my blood run cold.

Rage. Pure, unfiltered rage.

"Lyla," he says, and his voice drops into that tone—the one that makes my bones ache and my wolf whimper. "Get. Out."

But I can't move. The Alpha tone has frozen me in place, and the tray slips from my numb fingers.

It hits the floor with a crash that echoes like thunder.

And somewhere deep inside, beneath the fog and the fear and the confusion, my wolf finally wakes up.

And she is furious.

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