After His Mistress Poisoned Me, My True Mate Found Me

I pushed open the heavy oak doors of the Alpha's estate, the exhaustion of a three-day diplomatic summit with the River Pack weighing on my bones. As the Luna of the Blood Moon Pack, my duties were unending, a heavy crown I wore to honor the political alliance forged by the Hart family six years ago. I thought returning early might afford me a few hours of quiet rest in my own home.

Instead, the moment I stepped into the grand hallway, a cloying, artificial floral scent assaulted my senses. My inner wolf, usually suppressed and quiet under Charles's heavy Alpha dominance, let out a low, anxious whimper.

I hurried up the sweeping staircase and pushed open the door to the master suite.

The breath was instantly punched from my lungs.

Arielle Mason was lounging in the center of our massive bed. She wore nothing but Charles's favorite black button-down shirt, the fabric slipping off her golden shoulder to reveal her unmarked neck.

"You're early," she purred, not bothering to sit up. She didn't look like a she-wolf caught in her Alpha's bed. She looked like a queen holding court.

"Get out of my room," I demanded, my voice shaking with a mix of fury and the bone-deep weariness of a loveless marriage. "Get out of my bed, Arielle."

She laughed, a high, grating sound that scraped against my eardrums. Slowly, she sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. Her hand drifted down to rest protectively over her lower abdomen. She stroked the flat plane of her stomach with a sickeningly smug smile.

"I don't think Charles would like that," she mocked, her eyes flashing with malice. "Especially not now. You see, Claire... I'm carrying the Alpha heir."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Heir.

"You're lying," I whispered.

"Why would I lie?" Arielle stood, closing the distance between us. "Charles needs a strong pup to secure his legacy. He was never going to get one from a dry well like you."

Dry well. The insult sliced through my chest like a silver blade. For years, I had blamed myself for our empty nursery, enduring Charles's cold glares every time my cycle arrived.

Suddenly, a sharp, tearing agony ripped through my abdomen. It wasn't just heartbreak. It was a violent, physical rupture. I gasped, doubling over as my knees hit the hardwood floor. A warm, terrifying wetness soaked through my tailored trousers.

Blood. So much blood.

My inner wolf let out a devastating, mournful howl inside my mind. Pup. Our pup. I hadn't even known I was carrying. The realization crashed into me alongside the physical agony. My body, weakened by years of constant stress and a subtle lethargy I could never quite shake, was violently rejecting the fragile, early-term life inside me. The sheer shock of Arielle's revelation had pushed my frail state over the edge.

The bedroom door swung open. The suffocating weight of Charles's Alpha aura flooded the room. His