My Mate Poisoned Me for His Mistress

Three days after my wolf first whispered back to life, Aubrey walked into my bedroom wearing my skin.

Not literally. But she wore the ivory ceremonial gown my mother had spent four months hand-embroidering for my mating ceremony. The fabric was heavy, shimmering silk, covered in delicate silver vines meant to honor our family's heritage.

Aubrey didn't have it on for an alteration. She wore it casually, barefoot on the hardwood floor, letting the fine hem drag through the dust as if it were a cheap bathrobe.

"We'll put the Silvercrest delegation at the east table," Aubrey said. She tossed a thick stack of glossy seating charts onto the nightstand, right beside my head. She didn't spare me a glance. To her, I was just part of the bedroom furniture.

Cash leaned over the back of the leather chair, scanning the papers. "Make sure Alpha Darian has a clear view of the dais. I want him to see every second of the vows."

"Of course," Aubrey purred. She wandered over to the tall vanity mirror and hummed a sweet, breathless tune. With two fingers, she tugged down the high, lace collar of my dress.

There, right below her left ear, sat a raw, purple puncture. A second-mate mark.

Pack law considered marking a second mate while your true mate lived an act of high treason. It was a capital offense. Yet she tilted her chin, admiring Cash’s work in the glass while my mother’s stitches pressed against her skin.

Through my slitted lashes, I breathed slowly through my nose. My wolf senses were sharpening by the hour. Aubrey’s scent—synthetic vanilla, sweat, and Cash’s sour, claiming musk—was sinking deep into every thread of the silk.

*Remember this,* my wolf snarled in the dark cavern of my chest. *The fabric holds the scent. It will never wash out.*

I kept my body limp. I burned the sight into my memory. That gown was no longer a symbol of devotion. It was a piece of physical evidence.

***

That night, Cash returned alone.

The packhouse was quiet. Cold moonlight cut through the bay window, throwing long shadows across the floor. Cash pulled a wooden chair close to my bed and sat down.

He didn't brush my hair from my forehead. He didn't hold my hand like he did when visiting Alphas were in the room. He just sat there, his elbows resting on his knees, staring at my face.

"You always understood duty, Zuri," he said quietly.

His voice was flat. It held that sickening, compulsive need to justify his cruelty to a woman he thought couldn't hear him.

"Your brother believed in this pack, Zuri," he continued, leaning an inch closer. "He died for it. For me. Your sacrifice means something because of his. You wouldn't want everything Parker bled for to go to waste, would you?"

As he spoke, he pushed his feelings through our mate bond. It hit my chest like a cold, closed fist. It wasn't love. It was thick, suffocating guilt. He was using the bond to weigh me down, demanding that I surrender and let my wolf die quietly so his empire could rise. He was telling me that fighting back would desecrate my brother's grave.

Under the down blanket, my fingers curled tightly around Parker’s carved claw pendant. The edges dug into my palm, grounding me.

My wolf’s growl tore through my mind, fierce and venomous.

*He is using Parker's bones as a leash.*

I forced my pulse to stay dead and flat. One beat. Two beats.

*Let him talk,* I told my wolf. *Every single word goes on the tab.*

***

Two weeks before the ceremony, the floor beneath my bed vibrated with music and laughter.

Cash was hosting a formal alliance dinner in the great hall below. The Silvercrest delegation had arrived, along with two neighboring pack Alphas, to finalize the treaty. My bedroom sat directly above the dining hall. As the wolfsbane failed to suppress my senses, my hearing stretched through the floorboards, catching the clink of silverware and the low rumble of Alpha voices.

Downstairs, Aubrey was presiding over the high table. She sat right in my Luna seat, barking crisp orders to the serving staff with total authority.

"Thank you all for coming," Cash’s voice echoed up through the ventilation shafts, smooth and charming. "My Beta-assistant, Aubrey, is graciously standing in for my Luna while Zuri continues her recovery."

I closed my eyes and listened closer.

Down in the hall, Cash’s hand dropped to the small of Aubrey’s back. He left it there—just half a second longer than protocol allowed, his fingers brushing the curve of her waist. It was a tiny tell, but sharp eyes noticed. Through the murmurs, I heard the quiet, skeptical shift of Alpha Darian Cole’s Beta leaning in to whisper to his leader.

Near the end of the feast, heavy boots came up the private back stairs. Healer Vance slipped into my room, checked the digital monitor on my IV stand, and tapped the screen with a smug grin.

"Heart rate forty-two. Respiration shallow," Vance muttered to himself. "Right on schedule."

He hurried back down to deliver the update.

Two minutes later, Cash’s voice boomed over the banquet hall below. It carried a rehearsed, tragic tremor that made my skin crawl.

"Brothers..." Cash called out, his tone thick with unshed tears. "The healer has just brought me news. Zuri’s strength is fading fast, but her spirit is fighting to see our pack united. In her honor, our public Mate Ceremony will take place in two weeks!"

A roar of applause shook the chandeliers beneath my floorboards.

"To Alpha Cash and Luna Zuri!" Alpha Darian Cole’s deep voice boomed, leading the toast. "To the alliance!"

The glasses clinked together like iron chains. Downstairs, they drank to my funeral.

Upstairs in the dark, my wolf opened her golden eyes and bared her teeth.