After My Mate Banished Me for His Mistress

The scent of chamomile and lavender filled the kitchen as I stirred the herbal broth. Today marked the anniversary of Nova's pup's death, and I'd spent hours preparing this soothing concoction for the pack elders. The steam rose in gentle waves, carrying the calming aroma throughout the pack house.

"It should help with their nerves," I murmured to myself, carefully checking the temperature. As Luna, it was my duty to care for the pack's wellbeing, even if that meant working in the shadows while Nova received all of Waylen's attention.

The kitchen door creaked open behind me. I didn't need to turn to know who it was—the sickly sweet scent of Nova's Omega pheromones always preceded her.

"Phoebe," she said, her voice eerily calm. "What are you doing?"

I turned with a gentle smile, the one I'd perfected over eight years of marriage to an Alpha who barely noticed me. "Just preparing some herbal broth for the elders. Would you like to try some? It might help you sleep."

Nova's eyes widened, fixed not on me but on the steam rising from the pot. Her face contorted, transforming from fragile beauty to something feral and wild.

"Smoke!" she screamed, her hands fluttering frantically. "The rogues are coming! They're burning everything! My pup—my baby!"

Before I could react, Nova lunged forward, grabbing the heavy pot from the stove. My heart stopped as she lifted it high above her head.

"No, Nova, it's just steam!" I reached for her, but it was too late.

The scalding liquid hit me square in the chest and neck. Pain—white-hot and blinding—seared through me as the broth cascaded down my skin. I screamed, stumbling backward against the counter.

But the pain didn't stop there. Something else burned beneath my skin, spreading like poison through my veins. The wolfsbane—meant for pest control nearby—had been added to the pot by mistake.

"ARIAGHHH!" My wolf howled inside me, her voice growing fainter as the wolfsbane weakened our bond. "Phoebe, it burns!"

I collapsed to my knees, clawing at my chest where the liquid had soaked through my blouse. The agony was unbearable, but what came next would break me entirely.

"WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE?" Waylen's voice thundered through the kitchen doorway.

I looked up through tears of pain to see my mate rushing toward us. Relief flooded through me—he would help me, he would see what Nova had done.

But Waylen didn't even glance my way.

Instead, he rushed to Nova, who had fallen to her knees screaming about rogues and fire. He wrapped his arms around her trembling form, murmuring soothing words into her hair.

"Shh, it's okay. No one's going to hurt you. I've got you."

The words I'd longed to hear for eight years, spoken not to me but to her.

"Waylen," I gasped, my voice breaking. "She threw wolfsbane at me. I'm burning."

His eyes finally flicked to me, but there was no concern there—only irritation.

"Enough, Phoebe!" he snapped. Then, his voice deepened with