After My Alpha Chose His Mistress Over Me Novel Cover

After My Alpha Chose His Mistress Over Me

9.4 / 10.0
The sacred mate bond is shattered forever. Sitting in her elegant ivory Luna gown, she watches in horror as her husband, Alpha Trevor, publicly severs their connection before three hundred silent pack members. After weeks of hiding his infidelity, Trevor walks away to be with his pregnant mistress, Viviana. This devastating betrayal forever alters the power dynamics of their modern wolf pack, leaving a rejected Luna to face a brutal new reality.
After My Alpha Chose His Mistress Over Me Summary
The sacred mate bond is shattered forever. Sitting in her elegant ivory Luna gown, she watches in horror as her husband, Alpha Trevor, publicly severs their connection before three hundred silent pack members. After weeks of hiding his infidelity, Trevor walks away to be with his pregnant mistress, Viviana. This devastating betrayal forever alters the power dynamics of their modern wolf pack, leaving a rejected Luna to face a brutal new reality.
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After My Alpha Chose His Mistress Over Me Chapter 1

The bond broke at 10:14 on a Saturday night.

I knew the exact moment because I was watching the clock above the banquet hall doors when Trevor stood up. Three hundred wolves went silent. The chandeliers threw gold light across the tables. My Luna gown—ivory silk, hand-stitched lace at the collar—felt too tight across my ribs.

Trevor's hand left my shoulder.

I'd felt her scent on him for weeks. Jasmine and cedar, clinging to his skin through the mate bond like a second signature I couldn't scrub away. Tonight it was so strong I could taste it at the back of my throat. Across the hall, Viviana sat at the head table with both hands resting on the swell of her belly. Her dress was soft pink. She looked down when I glanced her way, but not before I caught the edge of her smile.

My father sat beside her. His face was carefully neutral.

Trevor cleared his throat. The Alpha tone rolled out across the room—a command for silence he didn't actually need. Everyone was already watching.

"I have an announcement," he said.

My thumb pressed against the inside of my opposite wrist. The small bone there. I focused on that instead of his voice.

"This pack has flourished under strong leadership," Trevor continued. His shoulders were back. His jaw set. He looked like every portrait of an Alpha ever painted. "But leadership requires hard choices. It requires putting the pack's future above personal comfort."

I stopped breathing.

"Caroline has served as Luna for seven years." His tone was formal now. Distant. Like he was reading from a script. "But the Moon Goddess has shown me a different path. One that serves Shadowridge's continued strength."

Viviana's hand moved to her throat. A delicate, trembling gesture. Someone near the back of the hall whispered something I couldn't hear.

Trevor turned to face me fully.

The bond between us had always felt like a tether—something warm and constant at the base of my spine, connecting me to him even when we were apart. For seven years I'd fed power into that bond without knowing I was doing it. My mother's Luna Accord had required it. A blood oath sworn before the Moon Goddess to protect my father's position, to give Trevor the strength his wolf had never naturally possessed.

I'd honored it. Every day. Every hour.

Now Trevor looked at me like I was a stranger.

"I, Trevor Elliott, Alpha of Shadowridge," he said, and his voice carried to every corner of the hall, "reject you, Caroline Morrison, as my mate and Luna."

The words landed like a fist to the sternum.

My mate mark went cold first. Then hollow. Like someone had scooped out the space beneath my skin and left nothing but air. The bond didn't snap—it tore, slow and jagged, ripping through me in waves. My aura fractured. I felt it crack across my collarbones, my shoulders, hairline fissures of light splitting open across my skin.

I dropped to one knee.

The floor was marble. Cold even through my dress. I braced one hand against it and tried to breathe. My vision blurred at the edges. The bond was dying inside me, thread by thread, and it hurt in a way I didn't have words for. Like losing a limb. Like drowning.

Someone gasped. I didn't look up to see who.

Viviana's chair scraped back. I heard her small, breathy sob from across the room.

My father said nothing.

I pressed my palm over the mark on my neck. It was ice-cold now. Lifeless. The skin beneath my fingers felt wrong—like scar tissue that hadn't healed.

Slowly, I stood.

Three hundred wolves stared at me. Some looked shocked. Others looked away. A few—pack members who had always resented me, who had whispered that I was too quiet, too cold, too unlike what a Luna should be—looked satisfied.

I met Trevor's eyes.

He was already reaching for Viviana, one hand extended toward her like she might collapse without him. She took it. Her fingers were small and pale against his.

My voice came out level. No tremor. No heat.

"I invoke the Luna Accord's dissolution clause."

Trevor's hand stilled.

"The blood oath my mother swore before the Moon Goddess," I continued, "included a fidelity clause. You broke it. The Accord is void."

I turned to face the hall. Every wolf. Every witness.

"Six days," I said. "Every thread of power I channeled into this bond will return to me. Every ounce of strength you borrowed will be withdrawn."

Trevor laughed. It was short. Dismissive. "Mystical nonsense," he said, loud enough for the room to hear. He pulled Viviana closer to his side. She tucked herself against him, her head barely reaching his shoulder. "Caroline's upset. Understandable. But this is pack law. The rejection is final."

I looked at him one last time.

The mark on my neck was visible to everyone now—gray and dead against my skin. I didn't try to hide it.

I walked toward the doors. My legs felt unsteady, but I didn't stop. Didn't look back. The crowd parted in front of me. No one spoke. No one touched me.

Behind me, I heard Trevor's voice, warm and reassuring, as he addressed the pack. Explaining. Justifying. Spinning the narrative into something clean.

I pushed through the double doors and kept walking.

The night air hit my face—cold, sharp, real. I made it to my car before my hands started shaking. I gripped the steering wheel and forced myself to breathe.

Six days.

I started the engine and drove.

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