My Alpha Rejected Me for His Lying Mistress

The first thing I felt was the needle. It was a sharp, persistent ache in the crook of my elbow, a familiar sensation that had defined the last three weeks of my life. My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the sterile white light of the Pack Hospital. I wasn't in the Luna’s private suite. I was in the overflow ward, the place reserved for Omegas and lower-ranking warriors.

I tried to sit up, but my head swam. The room spun violently, nausea clawing at my throat. I looked down at my arm. A thick tube ran from my vein to a collection bag hanging beside the bed. It was nearly full. My blood. My healer blood.

"Lie down, Madeline," a voice commanded. It wasn't a suggestion. It was an order laced with Alpha power that forced my muscles to go limp against the thin mattress.

Grayson stood at the foot of the bed. My mate. My Alpha. He looked immaculate in his charcoal suit, his dark hair perfectly styled, a stark contrast to my trembling, drained state. But he wasn't alone. Beside him, clutching his arm with a possessive grip, stood Camille.

She looked glowing. Literally. Her skin was flushed with health—my health—and her hand rested protectively over her slightly rounded belly. She offered me a small, pitying smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Grayson," I rasped, my throat dry as sandpaper. "Stop the transfusion. I can't... I feel like I'm fading."

He didn't move to help me. He didn't even look guilty. "Camille needs it, Madeline. The baby needs it. Your bloodline is the only thing keeping the pregnancy viable."

"I'm your mate," I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. "Not your livestock."

Grayson’s jaw tightened. He stepped closer, the air in the room growing heavy with the static charge of his aura. "That is what we need to discuss."

He took a breath, and the atmosphere shifted. It became suffocating. He was channeling his wolf, preparing to use the Alpha Tone. My inner wolf, normally so quiet and submissive, whimpered in terror.

"I, Alpha Grayson Roberts of the Silverclaw Pack," his voice boomed, vibrating through my very bones, "reject you, Madeline Spencer, as my mate and Luna."

The pain was instantaneous. It wasn't just physical; it was a severing of the soul. It felt like a serrated blade was being dragged through my chest, cutting the invisible tether that had bound us for three years. I screamed, clutching at my heart, curling into a ball as the bond snapped.

"I accept your rejection," I gasped out, the words tasting like ash. I had no choice. The pain of holding onto a broken bond would kill me faster than the blood loss.

Before I could even catch my breath, Grayson turned to Camille. He placed his hand on her neck, right over her scent gland. "And I accept Camille Griffin as my true mate and Luna of the Silverclaw Pack."

He bit her. Right there in front of me. Camille