Alpha Took Off My Wedding Dress for His Mistress

Just before my wedding, my fate mate, my Alpha fiancé, Micheal, stripped me of my wedding dress—our wedding dress—and handed it to his mistress, Becky Porter.

Not only that, but he locked me in the dressing room like some rabid wolf he needed to contain.

"Becky has a terminal illness.She just wants to experience being a bride before she dies."

I lunged forward, my wolf howling inside me. Alpha's strength pressed against mine, his dominance forcing my muscles to lock. My claws twitched, itching to break free.

"You bastard!" I snarled, my breath ragged.

Micheal barely blinked. Instead, he let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head .

"She’s dying, and you can’t even show a little compassion?" His tone dripped with disappointment, as if I were the villain here. "You’re only losing a wedding, but Becky… Becky is losing her dreams and her life."

I was adjusting the hem of my dress when Alpha Micheal walked in.

My white gown shimmered under the dressing room lights, the fabric hugging my figure perfectly. In just a few minutes, I’d walk down the aisle and officially become Luna of the Blood Howl Pack.

Everything was perfect.

Until I saw his face.

"Judy, I..."

Micheal’s voice wavered—and that was odd.

I turned, smiling, reaching for his hand. "Why is the Alpha more nervous than the bride? Don't tell me you're going to cry from excitement later."

Normally, he’d roll his eyes and smirk, maybe pull me in close and whisper something entirely inappropriate for a pre-wedding conversation.

But not this time.

His usual sharp, confident aura was replaced by something… hesitant.

“What’s wrong?” My stomach tightened as I smoothed my dress. “Did something happen at the wedding?”

When I tried to step past him, he grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

His fingers were warm, but his grip was tight—like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.

I frowned. “Micheal?”

A long pause.

Then, finally, he met my gaze.

"Judy, Becky... she's terminally ill."

My breath hitched.

Becky Porter.

His childhood friend.

His beautiful, always conveniently present childhood friend.

The same Becky who had spent years lurking in the background, reminding everyone how she and Micheal grew up together, how they understood each other in a way I never could.

The same Becky who had smiled sweetly in public and sabotaged me in private.

She had been my biggest thorn, never missing a chance to remind me that I wasn’t worthy of the Blood Howl Pack’s Luna.

But I had won.

I had Micheal.

And now—

I swallowed hard. “She’s sick?”

Micheal nodded, jaw clenched. "She doesn’t have much time left."

A strange mix of emotions twisted in my chest.

Guilt? No—why should I feel guilty?

Jealousy? Maybe.

Fear?

Definitely.

Because I knew that look in Micheal’s eyes.

I’d seen it before.

"I only see her as a sister," he’d told me a hundred times, exasperated, brushing off my concerns.

It wasn’t until his birthday this year, when Alpha Micheal proposed