When My Mate Marked Another

In the glittering world of the Silver Moon Pack, they mockingly call me the "Alpha’s Healer," an Omega who just can’t seem to secure her place as a Beta’s mate. The rumor mill loves to crack jokes about how I’ve been stood up at the mate ceremony 66 times by Matheo Vasquez, the Beta of the pack.

The first time he bailed, Matheo claimed he had to oversee the training session of Jazmine Gomez, a rising Delta warrior. The next time, he couldn’t miss her sparring match—supporting her was more important than our mate bond.

By the sixty-fifth time, Jazmine had forgotten her ceremonial dagger, and Matheo dashed off to retrieve it for her, leaving me waiting at the ceremony grounds once more.

After the sixty-sixth letdown, I posted on the pack’s communal board: “No mate bond yet again. Time to celebrate my independence from Matheo.” Then I switched off my communication crystal and dove into the tranquility of the Crimson Fang Pack’s healing chambers.

I had spent three years sharing a luxurious lodge with Matheo, yet we never made it official. Today was supposed to be a celebration for the pack’s successful defense against a rogue attack. I’d been on a grueling two-week shift tending to the injured, leaving me exhausted in every sense. Despite my fatigue, I was still tasked with managing the pack’s healing supplies. Matheo didn’t lift a finger to help—too busy enjoying tea with Jazmine, who had only fought in the skirmish for a mere 30 seconds.

The pack was eagerly waiting for a scandal to unfold. The deal was that once the pack stabilized, Matheo and I would finally complete our mate bond. But, yet again, he came up with a last-minute excuse.

“Jazmine’s promotion ceremony is coming up,” he explained. “She’s anxious about it, and I need to be there for her. Anyway, you’ve been patient for three years; another day won’t hurt.”

With that, he escorted Jazmine to her private quarters. Her eyes sparkled with victory as she said, “Sorry, Cecilia, Matheo just tends to overreact.”

In the past, I would have snapped and confronted Matheo on the spot, demanding, “Who’s really under more strain here, me or Jazmine? Who’s keeping this pack alive? Who is your true partner?” But I dreaded the pack’s gossip and the whirlwind of rumors using my name as fodder.

So I kept my cool. “No worries, enjoy yourselves. Don’t forget to be careful,” I replied. Matheo shot me a surprised look before retreating behind his usual icy demeanor, saying, “You’re so understanding; you deserve something nice.”

They hadn’t left the room before an obnoxious Gamma tried to pressure Jazmine into sparring with him. Annoyed, Matheo not only shielded her but also had the Gamma removed from the training grounds, regardless of his rank.

When I first joined the pack, Matheo put rank above everything. At pack gatherings or formal ceremonies, I was left to fend for myself. Even when I was doubled over with cramps so severe I could barely stand, he insisted I attend to the wounded, making me down a vial of potent healing tonic. He once told me, “To succeed in this pack, sacrifices must be made.” Those sacrifices seemed to hinge solely on his mood.

Tonight, I overexerted myself and ended up collapsing in the healing chambers. Weak and shaky, I called up Edwin Gordon, the Alpha of the Crimson Fang Pack. “You mentioned a new healing technique you’re working on. I want to learn it,” I said, my voice quivering.

On the other end, Edwin sounded taken aback. “Cecilia Castillo, you’re finally in? But it’s a secluded project, five years cut off from the world. Is Matheo cool with this?”

I laughed, “What mate? We’re not even bonded!”

Edwin didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Alright, come by tomorrow to sign the agreement. We need you for this big project.”

By the time I finished reviewing Edwin’s notes, it was late. Matheo still hadn’t come home. My communication crystal buzzed with a message from Jazmine. In it, Matheo gritted his teeth as a ceremonial blade etched their matching runes, complete with each other’s initials, onto their forearms.

I remembered that Matheo had always been terrified of pain, scared of getting scars. Jazmine giggled as she said, “Thank you, Matheo, for enduring the pain for love. Happy three-year anniversary!”