Rejected Mate’s Hidden Truth

The moon hung high over the city, casting its pale light through the hospital windows as I hurried down the sterile hallway. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of worry and dread twisting my stomach into knots. Henrik Salazar, my mate—or so I had thought—was lying in a hospital bed, bruised and battered. The news of his accident had reached me just hours ago, shattering the calm of the evening.

When I pushed open the door to his room, the sight of him made my breath catch. His once-imposing frame, the mark of a strong Alpha, was marred with angry red welts and bruises, some of them in places that made my stomach churn. His dark eyes flickered to mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flash of guilt before it was replaced with a forced smile.

“Savannah,” he said, his voice hoarse. “You didn’t have to come.”

I stepped closer, my gaze scanning the injuries that marred his skin. “What happened?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.

Henrik shifted uncomfortably, his Alpha aura flickering with unease. “Just a training accident,” he muttered, avoiding my eyes. “I pushed myself too hard during pack sparring.”

I frowned, my instincts screaming that something was wrong. Training accidents were common among werewolves, but these marks didn’t look like the result of a friendly sparring match. They looked deliberate, cruel even. Before I could press further, a faint voice drifted through the slightly ajar door of the room.

“Mistress, I messed up by fainting and ruining your fun.”

I froze, my blood turning to ice. That was Henrik’s voice, but the tone was all wrong—submissive, almost fearful. My gaze snapped to him, but he was staring at the ceiling, his jaw clenched as if willing me not to hear.

“Mistress, I promise I’ll do better next time to please you.”

My wolf stirred within me, a low growl of warning rising in my chest. I turned sharply, stepping out into the hallway, where the voices grew clearer. Henrik was on a video call with Jocelyn Hall, his assistant and a Delta in his pack. Her smug laughter echoed through the corridor.

“Alright then. Just get your fiancée out of there, and I’ll join you for a little reward.”

Henrik’s response was a trembling whisper. “Yes, mistress. I’ll make sure you’re happy. Even after the wedding, Savannah won’t come near me.”

I clutched the doorframe, my knuckles white as the words sank in. My mate—the Alpha of the Salazar Pack—was calling another woman “mistress.” The Henrik I thought I knew, the strong and confident leader, was groveling to a Delta like a lowly Omega.

“Someone from her background marrying me is quite the leap. How could she protest?”

His words cut deeper than any physical wound. I had always known Henrik was proud, but this—this was betrayal of the highest order. My wolf growled louder, urging me to confront him, to tear into