My Husband Favored His True Mistress, I Fled

I stood at my bedroom window, my body numb, watching the moonlit garden below. The tears had dried on my cheeks, leaving salty tracks I couldn't be bothered to wipe away. The silver dress hung ruined in my closet, a fitting metaphor for my marriage.

That's when I saw them. Ryan and Isabella, walking among the night-blooming flowers. His hand rested possessively on her belly—still flat like mine, but carrying the promise of what he truly wanted. His true mate's pup.

I watched as he bent to kiss her, a tender gesture I couldn't remember him ever showing me. The cold intimacy between them was a cruel confirmation of everything I'd heard through the mind-link.

My hand drifted to my own stomach, to the child growing inside me—a child whose father had never truly wanted its mother.

Inside me, Luna whimpered, then growled. We had decisions to make. Painful ones.

But first, we needed to survive the night.

With trembling hands, I locked the bedroom door. Ryan wouldn't return for hours—he never did on gathering nights—but I needed the symbolic barrier between us. My wolf paced anxiously within me, her silver fur bristling with a protective rage I'd never felt from her before.

*We need help*, Luna urged, pushing an image into my mind.

The face that appeared wasn't one I expected—not my father, long dead from a rogue attack, nor any of the pack members I'd spent five years serving as Luna. Instead, I saw warm amber eyes and a strong, kind face I hadn't thought about in years.

Marcus Campbell. The Alpha who had once made my wolf stir with recognition before fate—or what I thought was fate—led me to Ryan.

My hands shook as I reached for my phone, pulling up the werewolf network app. All pack leaders were connected through this secure channel, though I'd never had reason to use it for personal communication before.

I hesitated, my finger hovering over Alpha Marcus Campbell's profile. What would I even say? *Hello, you might not remember me, but seven years ago we met at the Northern Territory Summit, and now I've discovered my entire marriage is a lie?*

Luna nudged me forward, her certainty steadying my resolve.

I typed a simple message: *Alpha Campbell, this is Grace Mitchell, Luna of Crescent Valley Pack. I apologize for the unexpected contact, but I find myself in need of counsel on a sensitive matter. If you could spare a moment...*

I hit send before I could second-guess myself, then sat on the edge of the bed, hugging my arms around my middle. Protecting my pup. My pup alone.

The response came faster than I could have imagined, my phone lighting up with a notification.

*Grace. I'm here. What do you need?*

Three simple words. *I'm here.* Something broke loose in my chest, a knot of tension I hadn't realized I'd been carrying. My wolf, who had been restlessly pacing my consciousness for five years, suddenly stilled, a curious calm washing over her.

For the first time in years, Luna settled, as if she'd found something she'd been searching for all along.

* * *

Morning came with cruel brightness, sunlight streaming through windows I'd forgotten to close. My eyes felt swollen, my throat raw from crying. I'd messaged with Marcus for hours, his steady responses a lifeline as I poured out my confusion and pain. He hadn't offered easy solutions or empty platitudes—just a listening ear and the promise that I wasn't alone.

I'd just finished dressing when a sharp knock rattled my bedroom door.

"Grace! Open the door." Ryan's voice carried that edge of command that had always made me yield.

I smoothed my hands over my simple blue dress and opened the door, keeping my expression neutral despite the storm raging inside me.

Ryan stood there, handsome as ever in his Alpha attire, not a hint of shame or regret on his face. "Isabella is feeling nauseous this morning. Brew her some of that ginger and mint tea you make. Bring it to the east sitting room."

Not a question. An order. As if last night had never happened.

"Isabella?" I repeated, the name bitter on my tongue.

Ryan's eyes narrowed, his Alpha aura flaring around him like heat waves, pressing against me with suffocating weight. "Yes, Isabella. Is there a problem with that, Luna?"

The title—once an honor—now felt like a mockery. Luna bristled within me, but I forced myself to lower my eyes, to appear submissive. Not yet, I told her silently. Not until we have a plan.

"No, Alpha," I murmured, the words ash in my mouth. "I'll prepare it right away."

He nodded curtly and turned away, not bothering to ask how I was feeling, if I'd slept, if I needed anything. He'd never asked, I realized. Not in five years.

* * *

The formal pack dinner that evening was an exercise in endurance. I sat at Ryan's right, my ceremonial Luna robe—a delicate creation of silver silk embroidered with crescent moons—draped over my shoulders. The weight of every pack member's eyes felt like judgment, though I knew most were unaware of what had transpired.

Isabella sat three places down, beside Beta Ethan—Ryan's nephew and her supposed mate. Her beauty was undeniable, with her glossy dark hair and flawless skin. She caught me looking and smiled, a predator's smile that never reached her eyes.

I dropped my gaze to my plate, pushing food around that I couldn't bring myself to eat. My pregnancy would be obvious soon enough, but for now, it remained my secret—mine and Marcus's, I realized with a start. I'd told him everything last night.

"More wine, Luna Grace?" Isabella's voice cut through my thoughts as she stood, a crystal decanter in her hands.

Before I could decline, she moved behind my chair, leaning over as if to pour. The decanter tilted, and red wine cascaded down the front of my ceremonial robe, the stain spreading like blood across the silver silk.

Gasps echoed around the table as Isabella stepped back, her hand flying to her mouth in feigned horror. "Oh! How clumsy of me! I'm so terribly sorry, Luna."

I sat frozen, the cold wine seeping through to my skin, the symbolic desecration of my Luna status displayed for all to see.

"Grace," Ryan's voice cut through the murmurs, sharp with disapproval. "You should be more careful. That robe represents our pack's honor."

My cheeks burned with humiliation as every eye in the room turned to me—the Luna who couldn't even keep her ceremonial robe clean, who was being publicly scolded by her Alpha while her rival stood triumphant.

Under the table, my hands curled into fists, nails digging into my palms. Inside me, Luna snarled, no longer willing to submit.

Something had to change. And soon.