When My Mate Chose His Mistress

Three years. I had waited three years for this day.

I am Layla Pierce, a she-wolf of the Moonveil Pack. I carry a rare and ancient bloodline. But standing in the grand fitting room of the Black Moon Pack house, I was just a female waiting for her future to begin. I was supposed to become Luna.

Conrad Black, the powerful Alpha of this pack, is my fated mate. The Moon Goddess tied our souls together. When his pack was nearly destroyed by a rogue siege, I gave him my pack's warriors. I used my bloodline alliances to save his territory. I secretly fed my own corrupt father false information just to protect Conrad's borders. I made myself a pawn for him. In return, he gave me three years of cold stares and suspicion.

He thought my quiet survival tactics were manipulative. He called me venomous. But still, the Luna Ceremony was finally here. I thought my patience had finally won. I thought my unconditional love would finally be enough.

I touched the silver mate mark on my neck. It was a nervous habit I couldn't break. My fingertips traced the raised scar.

"Mrs. Gable?" I called out softly.

The pack's head seamstress walked into the room. She wouldn't meet my eyes. Her hands trembled as she pulled the white garment bag down from the high hook. She unzipped it slowly, revealing the sacred Luna Ceremony gown. It was breathtaking. Layers of pure white silk and intricate lace sparkled under the crystal chandelier.

I smiled and stepped closer. But as I looked at the bodice, my smile faded. The waist was taken in far too much. The hem was much too short. The shoulders were narrow.

"Mrs. Gable, these aren't my measurements," I said gently. I didn't want to scold her. She was a sweet older woman. "Did you mix up the dresses?"

The woman swallowed hard. She clutched her yellow measuring tape against her chest. "No, Miss Layla. I didn't mix them up."

"Then why is it so small?"

A heavy silence filled the room. The air suddenly felt thin. My chest tightened. I hated small, tense spaces. It triggered my claustrophobia. It reminded me of the pitch-black rogue den my father left me in when I was eight years old.

"Alpha Conrad came to see me yesterday," Mrs. Gable whispered. A tear slipped down her wrinkled cheek, dropping onto her collar. "He ordered the alterations himself. He gave me the new measurements."

My heart skipped a beat. A cold dread pooled in my stomach. "Whose measurements?"

She looked down at the floorboards. "Miss Elsie Parker."

The name hit me like a physical blow. Elsie Parker. She was a newly awakened she-wolf visiting from a small southern pack. Conrad met her last month at a regional summit. He was instantly drawn to her. He said he liked her innocent charm. He said she smelled like vanilla and sunshine.

I took a step back. The mate bond inside my chest