After My Alpha Replaced Me with His Mistress

The bitter wind of the northern border howled through the pines, but the chill in my heart had nothing to do with the weather. I trailed behind the patrol group, my boots crunching softly on the frost-hardened earth. Even here, amidst the warriors of the Blackwood Pack, I was an outcast.

Up ahead, Alpha Ronan Pierce moved with the lethal grace of a predator. His broad shoulders blocked the wind, his aura radiating a power that made my wolf, Silver, whine in submission. Walking beside him—too close, always too close—was Blair. Her laughter tinkled like shattered glass, sharp and artificial, as she whispered something in his ear. He leaned in, listening. He never listened to me.

"Focus, Elise," I scolded myself, wrapping my thin coat tighter. I was the Luna, even if they treated me like an Omega.

The scent hit me first—a pungent, rotting odor masking the crisp pine. Rogues.

"Ambush!" I screamed, but my warning was swallowed by the roar of the earth.

From the ridge above, boulders the size of cars broke loose, thundering down toward the path. Not nature—a trap. They were aiming directly for the Alpha. Ronan was distracted, turning toward my voice, too slow to see the death hurtling toward him.

I didn't think. I didn't breathe. I just shifted.

The change ripped through me, clothes shredding as Silver burst forth. I wasn't a warrior; I was small, silver, and often mocked for my size. But I was fast. I launched myself forward, a silver blur against the grey stone, and slammed my shoulder into Ronan’s chest, shoving him out of the kill zone.

*CRACK.*

The sound was sickening. The falling rock didn't miss me. It crushed my hind legs, pinning me to the frozen ground. A howl of pure agony tore from my throat, echoing through the canyon. Pain, white-hot and blinding, exploded up my spine. My back legs were useless, shattered beneath the crushing weight of the stone.

Dust swirled around us. The chaos settled into a terrifying silence. I whimpered, looking up through the haze, waiting for Ronan. He was safe. I had saved him.

Ronan stood up, brushing dust from his tactical gear. He looked at me, but his eyes held no gratitude. They were hard. Cold.

"Oh, for Goddess's sake," Blair’s voice cut through the ringing in my ears. She stepped out from behind a tree, barely a smudge of dirt on her pristine face. "Look at her, Ronan. Always the victim. It was just a few loose rocks, and she's wailing like a dying pup to get your attention."

*No,* I tried to mind-link him, but the pain made my mental voice static. *My legs... I can't move.*

"The Rogues are gone," Blair continued, her voice dripping with fake pity. "She probably sensed them miles away and waited for the dramatic moment. She’s weakening the pack, Ronan. A Luna who cries over a scratch?"

Ronan’s jaw tightened. The disgust in his scent hit me harder than the boulder.