After My Mate Chose the Omega

Three years. Three long years I'd spent on the borders, building alliances with rogue rehabilitation programs, expanding our pack's reach and reputation. All for him. All for us. The wind whipped my hair as I stood at the edge of Black Moon territory, breathing in the familiar scent of pine and wild jasmine that had always meant home.

My wolf, Sable, stirred within me. *We're finally back. He'll be waiting.*

'I know,' I whispered, my hand instinctively pressing against my chest, where the mate bond hummed with anticipation.

The main lodge came into view, its stone facade glowing amber in the setting sun. My heart quickened. Tru would be there, waiting. The Alpha-in-training who'd held my heart since the moment our eyes met. The man I'd surrendered everything for.

I walked through the familiar corridors, nodding to pack members who greeted me with surprise and something else I couldn't quite place. Their eyes followed me with an odd mixture of pity and curiosity that made my skin prickle.

'Welcome back, Luna Elliot,' they murmured, but the title felt hollow in their mouths.

I reached the Luna suite—my sanctuary before I'd left. The door felt heavier than I remembered, and when I pushed it open, the world tilted beneath my feet.

The room was unrecognizable. Gone were the soft blues and greens I'd chosen, replaced by garish reds and golds that seemed to mock me with their brightness. The furniture was new, expensive, and tasteless. And there, lounging on what had been my bed, was Ila Ford.

The young Omega intern wore one of my silk robes—the one Tru had given me on our first anniversary—and her fingers traced lazy patterns on the fabric as she looked up with feigned surprise.

'Luna Elliot!' she gasped, but there was no warmth in her voice, only a brittle edge of triumph. 'We weren't expecting you until tomorrow. You should have warned us. You've caught me in your old things.'

My throat tightened. Those 'old things' were still mine. The room was still mine. The life she was wearing like a costume was still mine.

Before I could respond, heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway. Tru appeared in the doorway, his broad shoulders blocking the light. For a moment, our eyes met, and I searched desperately for the warmth, the love, the recognition of a mate who'd missed me.

There was nothing.

'Elliot,' he said, his voice flat. No embrace. No kiss. Just my name, spoken like an obligation. 'You're back early.'

'Tru,' I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. 'What is she doing here? In our suite?'

His expression hardened. 'I was coming to speak with you about that.' He stepped closer, and I caught a scent on him that made my stomach lurch—Ila's scent, sweet and cloying, all over him. 'Ila is pregnant with my pup.'

The words hit me like a physical blow. I staggered back, my hand flying to my chest where the mate bond twisted like a knife.