My Alpha Rejected Me for His Mistress Novel Cover

My Alpha Rejected Me for His Mistress

9.3 / 10.0
Three years ago, the Moon Goddess united Eleanor Voss and Alpha Declan, making her the proud Luna of the Shadowridge Pack. But tonight, the shimmering silver silk and glowing candles only highlight her devastating solitude. As the painful hours slip away, Eleanor must confront a heartbreaking truth: her fated mate has betrayed her. This intense fantasy novel follows a rejected Luna as she faces the agonizing collapse of her sacred bond and the ultimate destruction of her husband's mistress brings.
My Alpha Rejected Me for His Mistress Summary
Three years ago, the Moon Goddess united Eleanor Voss and Alpha Declan, making her the proud Luna of the Shadowridge Pack. But tonight, the shimmering silver silk and glowing candles only highlight her devastating solitude. As the painful hours slip away, Eleanor must confront a heartbreaking truth: her fated mate has betrayed her. This intense fantasy novel follows a rejected Luna as she faces the agonizing collapse of her sacred bond and the ultimate destruction of her husband's mistress brings.
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My Alpha Rejected Me for His Mistress Chapter 1

I sat on the edge of the bed with my hands folded in my lap.

The dress was silver silk. I had picked it three weeks ago because Declan once said silver looked good on me. My hair was pinned the way he liked. Two candles were burning on the dresser. A bottle of red wine sat open on the small table by the window, breathing.

He was an hour late.

I am Eleanor Voss. Three years ago, I became Luna of the Shadowridge Pack. Three years ago tonight, Alpha Declan bit my neck and told me the Moon Goddess had chosen us. I believed him. I still had the small scar on my neck to prove it, and every year on this night we shared a private dinner in the Luna quarters, just the two of us.

He was an hour and eight minutes late now.

I reached for my phone. Then the mind-link snapped open.

It was not a message. It was not a call. It was the raw, unfiltered stream of his mind, cracked wide, spilling straight into mine.

A woman's laugh. Low. Breathy. Close to his ear.

And her scent. Gods, her scent. That heavy synthetic floral that clung to every curtain in the pack house, that hung in every hallway Aaliyah had ever walked. It flooded the bond so completely I could taste it on my tongue.

Then his voice, rough and quiet. "Aaliyah—"

My wolf screamed.

I have never heard her make a sound like that. It was not a howl. It was the sound a living thing makes when something is being torn out of it. She threw herself against the inside of my chest, once, twice, and then curled into herself and went silent.

The mark on my neck went cold. Not warm. Cold, the way a wound goes cold when the blood is gone from it.

I did not move.

I heard the sheets. I heard him breathing. I heard her say his name in a way she had never said it in any room I had ever been in, and I heard him answer her in a way he had never answered me.

Then the link snapped shut. He noticed. Somewhere in whatever bed he was in, he noticed the link was open and he closed it.

Too late.

I sat on the edge of the bed and I did not move for a long time. The candles burned down a full inch. The wine breathed. The silk of my dress was cool against my thighs.

I pressed two fingers to the mark on my neck. It burned. Not hot. Ice.

And then, slowly, I began to think.

---

He came to my office the next morning at eleven with a folder in his hand and a smile I recognized. It was the smile he used at inter-pack summits when he wanted something.

Callum, his Beta, was with him. Aaliyah's father. And a young clerk from the pack's legal office whose name I always forgot.

"Eleanor." Declan set the folder on my desk. "I've been meaning to get these to you for weeks. Luna protection documents. Standard legal safeguards for your status if anything ever happened to me."

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. He smelled of the shower he had taken. Under it, faintly, was still her.

My wolf did not stir. She was somewhere deep. Watching.

"That's thoughtful," I said.

I opened the folder.

He kept talking. Something about routine paperwork. Something about the Council recommending it for all Alpha mates. I let his voice pass over me and I read.

Halfway through the second page my hand did not tremble, but it wanted to.

These were rejection papers. Formal ones. The language was buried three clauses deep and dressed in soft legal padding, but I knew the shape of it. My signature at the bottom would strip me of the Luna rank, dissolve my wolf's pack privileges, and release Declan from any Council obligation regarding my well-being. Signed by me. Voluntary. Clean.

I turned the page.

"Take your time," Declan said. His hand rested on the back of my chair. Through the bond—what was left of it—I felt the flicker. The tiny wrong-note that a healer's instinct catches, the way a false heartbeat catches. He was lying. He knew he was lying. His wolf knew.

I read every page. All eleven of them.

Then I closed the folder and looked up and gave him the same small, composed smile I had given him at our mate anniversary dinner last year.

"I'd like to have my father's lawyer review it," I said. "Just a formality. It should only take a few days."

Something passed behind his eyes. Not quite fast enough.

"Of course," he said. "No rush."

He kissed my head again and left with Callum and the clerk trailing behind him.

I did not sign.

---

That night, I locked my study door and opened the secure channel my father had given me the year I was mated, the one I had never used. My hands were steady on the keys.

The reply came within twenty minutes.

*Idris Crane. Continental Council Arbiter. I am listening.*

I began to type.

When I was done, I closed the laptop and pressed two fingers to the mark on my neck. It was still cold. It was going to be cold for a long time.

Good.

I needed it to stay that way, so I would not forget.

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My Alpha Rejected Me for His Mistress of Contents

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