Betrayed by My Mate, Chosen by the Alpha

The white silk of my ceremonial dress rustled against the marble floor as I adjusted my position at the altar for what felt like the hundredth time. The moonstone necklace I'd spent three months crafting lay heavy in my palms, its intricate silver filigree catching the candlelight that flickered throughout the pack house's grand hall. Each delicate stone had been hand-selected, each wire carefully twisted into Celtic knots that symbolized eternal bonds. Now it felt like a weight threatening to drag me under.

The altar stood decorated exactly as I'd envisioned—white roses intertwined with silver ribbons, candles arranged in perfect crescents to honor the Moon Goddess, and the ceremonial chalice filled with blessed water from our territory's sacred spring. Everything was ready. Everything except my Alpha.

My wolf, Sage, paced restlessly within me. *Where is he?* she whined, her anxiety bleeding into my consciousness like acid. *The moon is already high. The ceremony should have begun an hour ago.*

I forced myself to stand straighter, ignoring the whispers that had started among the pack members scattered throughout the hall. They sat in neat rows, dressed in their finest clothes, but their excitement had long since faded into uncomfortable murmurs. I caught fragments of their conversations—hushed voices wondering about Tristan's absence, questioning glances thrown my way, the soft buzz of phones being checked.

"Luna Lyra looks beautiful," someone whispered, but the title felt hollow when the Alpha who was supposed to claim me was nowhere to be found.

Beta Marcus approached the altar, his expression carefully neutral. "Lyra, perhaps we should—"

"He's coming," I cut him off, my voice steadier than I felt. "Alpha Tristan is just handling some last-minute pack business. You know how dedicated he is to Silvermoon's security."

The lie tasted bitter on my tongue, but I couldn't bear the alternative—admitting that I didn't know where he was, that my mate of ten years had left me standing at our own marking ceremony like some forgotten appointment.

Another wave of whispers rippled through the crowd. I caught sight of several pack members glancing at their phones, their faces shifting from confusion to something that looked suspiciously like shock. My stomach clenched.

"What's wrong?" I asked Marcus, but he was already pulling out his own phone, his face darkening as he scrolled.

That's when I saw her. Aleena Knight, Tristan's assistant, slipping through the back doors of the hall. Her hair was perfectly styled, her dress immaculate, but there was something different about her—a glow, a satisfaction that made my skin crawl. She moved through the crowd like she owned it, accepting congratulations from pack members who approached her with knowing smiles.

Congratulations? For what?

My hands trembled as I pulled out my own phone, my fingers fumbling with the screen. The first notification made my blood freeze: *Aleena Knight tagged you in a post.*

The image loaded with agonizing slowness. Aleena stood in the center of what looked like a private gathering in Tristan's office, surrounded by smiling