My Mate Had An Affair With His Assistant White I Was Dying

The day Victor Hale announced me, Autumn Fields, as his mate, Twitter crashed. Everyone was tearing into me.

Three months after we broke our bond, Twitter crashed again. And guess what? They were still cursing my name.

.

Three months post-breakup, my inbox was flooded with messages-some even sent me mock-up obituary photos. I picked one out, chuckling as I handed it to my agent, Hannah Blake. "This one's perfect, Hannah. Use it for my tombstone."

Hannah's eyes welled up instantly. "Don't say stuff like that."

She draped a thin blanket over my shoulders. "Stop reading those messages. They're vile."

I flashed her a bright smile. "It's fine. Not my first rodeo."

We talked for a while, finalizing the statement for my exit from the spotlight in three days. Then I stepped out of the agency into Belmor Town, where snow drifted like a soft white curtain.

Bundled in a puffy coat, mask, and sunglasses, I spotted Victor's face on a massive screen across the street, advertising his comeback tour. The caption read: Top Dog's Back!

The driver glanced at me. "Home?"

I shook my head. "The arena."

It was day one of Victor's tour, and the arena was swarmed with she-wolf fans, some dressed in white gowns like they were ready to form a sacred bond with him right there. Tears streamed down their faces as they shouted.

"Victor, we love you!"

"Victor, you've got us. Don't cry!"

"Victor, you're not old-you're forever our alpha!"

I stood in the farthest corner, only able to see his familiar, sharp features on the big screen. He'd lost weight, but that rugged handsomeness? Still there, untouched by time.

Seven years we'd been mates, Victor and me. But three months ago, I called it off. Posted it on Twitter, too: "We're not right for each other. Bond's broken."

Twitter imploded. The hate came fast-curses, insults, you name it. Some said I ditched him because he was "too old." Victor's eight years my senior-I'm 26, he's 34. But a true alpha doesn't fade with age. His fans proved that, sobbing as the concert ended.

Me? I left with a relieved smile.

My phone buzzed. A text from Victor: What are you doing here?

I hadn't noticed the camera catching me in the crowd. My fingers shook as I typed, Congrats on still ruling the pack.

His reply was instant: Don't need your congrats. Can't carry the weight.

I stared at that text for ages before shutting off my phone.

Back at my apartment, a wolf in a baseball cap leaned against the wall, his tall frame unmistakable. Victor. His deep eyes locked onto mine, and my heart skipped.

"Victor."

His lips curled into a mocking smirk, reflecting my pale face in his gaze. "What, saw I'm still the alpha and regretting it now?"

My throat tightened, but I forced a dazzling smile. "Not a chance."

Shaking, I unlocked my door. "Didn't you see the gossip online? I'm with Adrian Grant now. He's the hot new wolf, and you, Victor? You're yesterday's alpha."

Three years ago, I met Adrian, a rising star, while working on a film. Paparazzi caught us late-night "rehearsing." Victor, my mate back then, shut down the rumors and posted on Twitter: I'll always trust Autumn.

But three months ago, right after I broke our bond, paparazzi snapped me leaving a hotel with Adrian. Victor's Twitter drowned in pity and mockery. They said I cheated.

He didn't explain. Didn't post. Just vanished for three months.

So when he stepped back into the spotlight today, his fans wept for him.

"You're still so practical, Autumn," Victor said with a bitter laugh, his eyes cold where they used to hold warmth. "Thanks for showing me what wolves are really like."

He stepped closer. "I'm here to tell you I spent three months accepting you don't love me. And three months making peace with not loving you."