Abandoned by My Fated Mate I Claimed True Love

Three years into my mate bond with Mason Cole, he brought home a female werewolf.

He said he found her wandering alone as a rogue and felt pity for her, so he took her into the packhouse under his protection. I believed him.

But then he allowed her to slip a potion into my drink that caused me to lose our pup.

He sided with her, humiliated me, and ignored my pain.

In the face of my endless questioning, he grew annoyed.

Impatiently, he pushed the Gamma warrior, Ambrose Harrison, toward me.

"You could always try someone new," he said with a shrug. "That way, we don’t have to interfere with each other."

But when I truly stopped interfering with him, he regretted it.

---

I stood frozen, staring at the man in front of me. Time had been kind to him; his face still carried the youthful charm of a young Alpha, though now layered with a heavier, more mature air. Mason lounged lazily on the couch, his brow furrowed with irritation.

"Valery, how many times are you going to bring this up this month? It’s just a lost pup. Emelia didn’t mean for it to happen."

He spoke so casually, as if he were discussing the death of a stray animal.

But that was our pup—seven months along, just three months away from being born.

I had already made tiny clothes for them.

They had already taken shape, and I was so close to holding them in my arms.

My voice trembled as I looked at him.

"That was your pup too, Mason. How could you be so cruel?"

He sat up abruptly, his expression filled with impatience.

"Valery, the Silver Moon Pack doesn’t need just one pup. Besides, I’ve already promised Emelia that my first pup will be hers. Why are you still hung up on this?"

I stared at his familiar face, but for the first time, it felt like I was looking at a stranger.

Tears fell as I whispered, "But you promised me a lifetime together. You said you’d only ever love me."

Mason let out a mocking laugh, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Valery, you’re so naive. I’m the Alpha. It’s natural for me to have other females in my life. And for three years, you’ve been the only Luna in this pack. Most would be grateful for that, yet here you are, complaining."

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

My mind flashed back to our mark ceremony, the night we bonded. The scent of rosemary and vanilla—his scent—filled the air as he held my hands, his gaze sincere and unwavering.

"Valery," he had said, "I, Mason Cole, Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, promise you that I’ll never take another mate. My heart will belong only to you. With you, I have everything I need."

Those words had felt so real, so permanent.

But now, just three years later, they were ashes, scattered and forgotten.

Was that the lifespan