After My Mate Claimed His Mistress, I Unleashed My Power

The ground beneath the Silver Glade Pack shook violently, a tremor that rattled my very bones. Before the sound of the explosion even registered, the shockwave shattered the windows of the Alchemy Hall, sending shards of glass raining down like deadly confetti.

"The lab!" I gasped, dropping the basket of herbs I had been gathering.

Thick, unnatural blue smoke billowed from the east wing—my wing. That was where ten years of my life’s work resided. It was where I brewed the strength tonics that gave our warriors their edge, and the healing balms that kept our casualty rates miraculously low. Without a second thought, I sprinted toward the inferno.

"Luna! Wait! It's too dangerous!" a Delta warrior shouted, but I ignored him.

I burst through the double doors, the heat hitting me like a physical wall. Ordinary fire would have terrified a normal wolf, but this was chemical fire, born of volatile compounds. It was wild, hungry, and deadly. Instinctively, I reached for the well of power deep within my soul—the Lycan blood I had suppressed for a decade. I couldn't shift, not here, but I coated my skin in a thin, invisible layer of aura, just enough to shield me from the blistering heat as I navigated the debris.

I had to save the research journals.

As I rounded the corner toward the storage vault, I heard coughing. Not the hacking cough of someone dying, but the theatrical, high-pitched coughing of someone wanting to be found.

There, huddled in a corner that was suspiciously free of flames, were Violette Hill and Shane Owens. Violette, the pack’s "delicate" Omega refugee, was clinging to Shane’s arm, her face buried in his chest.

"Oh goddess, I didn't mean to!" Violette wailed, her voice carrying over the roar of the fire.

I stopped, my eyes narrowing. They were unhurt. There wasn't a smudge of soot on Violette’s pristine white dress, while I was already covered in ash.

Suddenly, the main doors were kicked open.

"Violette!"

Henrik’s voice boomed through the hall. My mate. The Alpha. He rushed past me—literally brushing my shoulder without a glance—and dropped to his knees beside the Omega.

"Are you hurt? Did the fire touch you?" Henrik’s hands roamed over her face, his eyes wide with panic.

I stood there, invisible in the smoke, watching my husband comfort another woman while his own mate stood amidst the wreckage of her life's work. My heart didn't break; it hardened.

"I... I was just trying to help," Violette sobbed, looking up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. "I wanted to be smart like Luna Sienna. I tried to mix the compounds... but it went wrong!"

Henrik pulled her into his chest, glaring at me over her shoulder. His eyes were cold, devoid of the warmth they used to hold. "Get the journals, Sienna. Then meet me in my office. Now."

***

The silence in the Alpha’s office was suffocating. Outside, the pack was scrambling to put out the fire, but inside,