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My Mate Chose His Mistress Over My Dying Mother Novel Cover

My Mate Chose His Mistress Over My Dying Mother

For seven years, I dedicated myself to mastering healing herbs, but the oppressive Luna Protocols have stripped me of my purpose. Forbidden from treating pack members without Archer's explicit consent, I watch my wolf, Seraphine, whimper in aching silence. With my mate choosing his mistress over our sacred bond, he cruelly withholds his approval, leaving me utterly powerless to save my dying mother.
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Chapter 4

The message came at dawn.

I was sitting at my desk, staring at yesterday's entry in my herb journal, when someone knocked. Not the usual Delta summons. This was urgent. Frantic.

I opened the door to find a young messenger wolf from Crescent Moon territory. His eyes were wide. Frightened.

"Luna Evans," he gasped. "Your mother—she collapsed. The healers need you. Now."

The world stopped.

"What happened?"

"They don't know. She was stable yesterday. This morning her wolf started shutting down. Her body's following." He thrust a folded paper into my hands. "They need these herbs. Emergency surgery. They said you'd know where to find them."

I unfolded the list with shaking fingers. My eyes scanned the ingredients.

Moonshade root. Silver leaf extract. Concentrated valerian compound.

Every single one was locked in Ironveil's healer stores.

Stores I no longer had access to.

"I'll get them," I said. My voice sounded distant. Mechanical. "Tell them I'm coming."

The messenger nodded and disappeared down the corridor.

I stood in the doorway, gripping the list. The paper crinkled in my fist.

Seraphine stirred faintly. Not words. Just a desperate, aching whimper.

*Hold on, Mom. Please hold on.*

---

The healer stores were in the east wing. I'd walked that corridor a thousand times as Luna. I knew every turn. Every door.

I moved quickly, keeping my head down. A few pack members passed me. They glanced away.

I reached the heavy wooden door and tried the handle.

Locked.

I pulled harder. The door didn't budge.

My chest tightened. I fumbled for the key ring I'd carried for seven years—the one with access to every supply room, every healer station, every locked cabinet in Ironveil.

Gone.

Of course it was gone. They'd taken it three days ago.

I pressed my forehead against the door and counted my breaths. One. Two. Three.

*Think. There has to be another way.*

I turned and headed for the Alpha office. My legs felt unsteady. My hands were numb.

I had to ask. I had to beg if necessary.

My mother was dying.

---

The office door was open. I stepped inside without knocking.

Peyton sat behind Archer's desk. Not beside it. Behind it. In his chair.

She looked up and smiled. That same soft, sympathetic smile.

"Ariana. What can I do for you?"

I held up the list. My hand was shaking. "My mother collapsed. The Crescent Moon healers need these herbs. They're in the healer stores. I need access."

Peyton tilted her head. She took the list from my hand and studied it carefully.

"Moonshade root," she read aloud. "Silver leaf extract. Valerian compound." She set the paper down gently. "These are very rare. Very valuable."

"I know." My throat was tight. "That's why I need them. Please. She's dying."

Peyton folded her hands on the desk. Her pale blue eyes held mine.

"I'm so sorry about your mother, Ariana. I truly am." Her voice was kind. Gentle. "But pack resources are allocated through proper channels now. You'll need written authorization from Alpha Archer."

"Then get him. Please. I'll wait."

"He's not here." She gestured to the empty office. "He left early this morning for border negotiations. He won't be back until tomorrow."

Tomorrow.

My mother didn't have until tomorrow.

"Peyton." I stepped closer to the desk. "Please. I'm begging you. Just unlock the stores. I'll take what I need and go. No one has to know."

She stood slowly. Her expression was sympathetic. Concerned.

"I can't do that, Ariana. The Alpha's orders were very clear. No unauthorized access to pack resources. Especially not for you."

The words hit like a physical blow.

"My mother is dying," I whispered.

"I understand." Peyton walked around the desk and placed a hand on my shoulder. I flinched. "But rules are rules. I'm sure the Crescent Moon healers will do everything they can."

She guided me gently toward the door.

"Wait—"

"I'm sorry, Ariana. I really am."

The door closed in my face.

I stood in the corridor, staring at the wood grain. My vision blurred.

Seraphine howled inside me. A silent, agonized sound that no one else could hear.

I turned and walked back to my quarters. My legs moved automatically. My mind was somewhere else.

Inside my room, I sat at my desk and opened my herb journal. I wrote the date at the top of a new page.

Then I wrote: *Mother critical. Herbs required for survival locked in stores thirty feet away. Access denied by Peyton. Archer absent. Timeline: hours.*

I set the pen down.

My hands were shaking so hard I couldn't hold it steady.

Outside my window, the sun was rising. The training grounds filled with wolves. Everything looked normal.

I pressed my palm to my chest and felt nothing.

No warmth. No presence.

Just an empty space where my wolf used to be.

And somewhere in Crescent Moon territory, my mother was dying.

Because I couldn't reach the herbs that could save her.

Because Archer had locked every door between us.

Because Peyton held the keys.

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