Rejecting Cruel Alpha Mate

The medical supplies felt heavier in my arms as I approached the Alpha quarters, my wolf Luna stirring restlessly within me. The injured warriors from this morning's border patrol needed immediate attention, and I'd prepared the healing salves they required. The familiar scent of antiseptic and herbs clung to my clothes—a constant reminder of my role in this pack.

I raised my hand to knock on the heavy oak door, but it swung open at my touch. The sight that greeted me drove the breath from my lungs like a physical blow.

Grayson's bare back moved rhythmically above a cascade of auburn hair spread across our—his—bed. Mazie Perkins' emerald eyes met mine over his shoulder, her lips curving into a triumphant smirk that made my stomach lurch. She arched beneath him deliberately, her moan echoing through the room with theatrical precision.

"Oh, Alpha," she purred, never breaking eye contact with me. "Right there."

The medical supplies slipped from my numb fingers, bottles clattering against the hardwood floor. The sound made Grayson pause, his head turning toward me with mild annoyance—as if I were an interrupting servant rather than his mate.

"Bailey." His voice carried no shame, no guilt. Just irritation. "Knock next time."

Mazie's laugh tinkled like broken glass. "Poor thing looks so shocked. Didn't you tell her about us, Gray?"

Heat flooded my cheeks as my wolf whimpered, retreating deeper into my consciousness. The mate bond that should have been sacred felt like chains around my throat, cutting off my air. "I... the warriors need—"

"Then go tend to them." Grayson's dismissal was casual, final. He turned back to Mazie as if I'd already vanished. "Your healing duties don't end just because you walked into the wrong room."

I bent to gather the scattered supplies, my hands shaking so violently I could barely grip the bottles. Mazie's renewed moans followed me as I fled, each sound a deliberate knife twist in my chest.

The pack meeting three days later felt like walking into a tribunal. Visiting Alphas from the neighboring territories filled our great hall, their conversations creating a low buzz that died as I entered. My role was clear—serve refreshments, smile when spoken to, showcase the pack's hospitality.

Grayson stood at the head of the massive oak table, commanding attention in his tailored black suit. Mazie sat at his right hand, wearing a stunning emerald dress that matched her eyes and complemented her auburn waves. She belonged there in a way I never had.

"Gentlemen," Grayson's voice boomed across the hall, "allow me to introduce my true chosen partner, Mazie Perkins of the Northern Ridge Pack."

The words hit me like ice water. True chosen partner. The visiting Alphas murmured appreciative greetings, some rising to shake Mazie's hand as she beamed with practiced grace.

"And this," Grayson continued as I approached with the refreshment tray, "is Bailey Ray, my contract mate. She provides invaluable medical services to our pack."

Contract mate. Medical services. As if I were equipment