The Ragpicker Mate He Cast Aside

"Just tidied the room. I'll rest." My voice trembled. I fled to my chamber.​ Behind my closed lids, the image of Eden's hoard seared itself into my mind. My underthings, reeking of stale moon musk, lay in a grotesque pile. Why would she hoard my bedding? The red lace set I'd lost after our bond-she must have taken it. A wave of disgust roiled in my gut, a nauseating tide that threatened to choke me.​ At midday, when the world seemed to hold its breath, I waited for Eden to slip into a deep slumber. I signaled the nursemaid with a desperate glance, our eyes meeting in a silent pact. We bundled the pup, his tiny body warm and trusting in our arms.​ Then, driven by a fierce determination, I raced to Peter's. As I approached the door, wet growls, animalistic and primal, echoed from the bedchamber. A cruel smile twisted my lips. Perfect. My lawyer needed proof.​ I kicked the door open, phone raised high. The sight that greeted me was a nightmare come to life. Peter and Freya, tangled in a web of betrayal, their bodies intertwined in a sickening display of lust. "Lila Vance! Delete those!" Peter snarled, his eyes wild with rage and fear as he lunged at me.​ I dodged his attack, my movements a dance of desperation. With a flick of my thumb, I sent the damning video to my lawyer. "She's ruined me!" Freya wailed, her voice a pathetic screech. "Fear not, Freya." Peter stood naked, his arrogance a shield against the truth, as he swiped at my phone. He crushed it under his heel with a sickening crunch, but the deed was done. The evidence was out of his reach.​ Freya dressed in a hurry, her face red with shame, and fled the room. Peter rounded on me, his eyes blazing with a madness I'd never seen before. "The pup isn't mine! You cheated first. Pay fifty silver pieces for a clean bond break, or I'll howl your shame to the whole pack!"​ I glared at him, my eyes cold and unforgiving. "Where's my red mating set? The one I lost." "Blown away by the wind," he snapped, but a flicker of guilt crossed his eyes. "Did your dam take it?" I pressed, my voice a knife cutting through his deception.​ "Have you lost your mind? Why would she-" "She favors you over me! If not for you, Freya and I would have a litter by now!" I pitied him then, a hollow feeling in my chest. The chill wind snapped my wits back. With Eden untrustworthy, I needed proof. First, a new phone. Back at the inn, staring at my pup's slumbering face, a dark thought howled: He might have been sired while I lay dazed. I'd heard tales-mates offering their she-wolves for pack rank. Peter had clawed up since our bond. No matter. I'd claim my rights. My call to Peter was met with a snarl: "You posted that video? This isn't over!" He cut the line, but the footage had gone lunar viral. Net-wolves dug up his trysts with Freya, down to their mating history. Both got fired from the pack's corporate; Peter's promotion vanished like mist. Good riddance.