Betrayed by one, claimed by three

I stood frozen in the doorway of the Shadowmoon Pack's medical center, the antiseptic smell mixing with something that made my wolf whimper in distress. Through the partially open door, I could see Marcus cradling Sophia against his chest, his dark hair falling across his forehead as he murmured soft reassurances.

"The bleeding has stopped," he said, his voice tender in a way that used to be reserved only for me. "Dr. Hayes says you and the pup are going to be fine."

My hands trembled as I gripped the medical charts I'd been carrying. Three sleepless nights I'd spent worrying when Marcus didn't come home, when he wouldn't answer his phone or respond to our mate bond. Now I knew why.

"I'm so scared, Marcus," Sophia whispered, her perfectly manicured fingers clutching at his shirt. Even in her hospital gown, she looked ethereal—her platinum blonde hair fanned across the pillow like a halo, her blue eyes wide and vulnerable. Everything an Omega wasn't supposed to be, yet somehow managing to captivate my Alpha husband. "What if something happens to our pup?"

"Nothing will happen," Marcus replied firmly, brushing a strand of hair from her face with infinite care. "I won't let it."

The charts slipped from my numb fingers, clattering to the floor. Marcus's head snapped up, his golden eyes—eyes that used to look at me with such love—now filled with irritation.

"Elena? What are you doing here?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but only a strangled sound came out. Six years. We'd been mated for six years, and in all that time, I'd never seen him look at another woman the way he was looking at Sophia now.

"I brought the—" I gestured weakly at the scattered papers, "the test results you requested."

Marcus's jaw tightened. "You could have sent them through the pack link."

Once upon a time, he would have been thrilled to see me. Would have pulled me into his arms and buried his face in my neck, breathing in my scent like it was oxygen itself. Now he spoke to me like I was just another pack member, not his mate, not his wife.

"Sorry," I mumbled, bending to collect the fallen charts. My hands shook so badly I could barely grasp the papers.

"Elena." Sophia's voice was soft, sweet, with just the right amount of concern. "You look terrible. When was the last time you slept?"

I straightened slowly, meeting her innocent blue gaze. There was something there, hidden beneath the surface concern—a glint of satisfaction that made my wolf bristle.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not." Marcus stood, his six-foot frame towering over me. Once, that height had made me feel protected, cherished. Now it felt intimidating. "You're exhausting yourself with these double shifts. When's the last time you went home?"

Home. The word was a knife to my chest. When was the last time it had felt like home? When was the last time he'd been there when I arrived, instead of rushing off to tend to Sophia's every need?

"Someone has to cover the medical center," I said quietly. "Especially with..." I glanced at Sophia, whose hand was now protectively curved over her still-flat belly, "with pack members needing extra care."

Marcus's expression softened slightly. "Elena—"

"I should go." I clutched the charts against my chest like armor. "Let me know if you need anything else."

I turned to leave, but Sophia's voice stopped me.

"Marcus told me about your family's expectations." Her tone was sympathetic, but there was steel underneath. "How difficult it must be, knowing you can't give him what he needs."

The air left my lungs in a rush. Marcus had told her. About my infertility. About the monthly disappointments, the treatments that never worked, the slow death of hope that had been eating away at our bond for two years.

"Sophia," Marcus warned, but she continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"I know this must be awkward for you, but I want you to know—I don't expect anything from Marcus beyond what's necessary for the pack's future." She smiled, all false sweetness. "Once the pups are born, things can go back to normal. I understand my place."

My place. She understood my place. As if I were the interloper in my own marriage.

"How generous of you," I managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Marcus stepped forward, his alpha presence pressing against my mind through our bond. Once, that feeling had been comforting. Now it felt like a cage closing around me.

"That's enough. Both of you." His golden eyes fixed on me. "Elena, go home. Get some rest. That's an order."

An order. Not a request from a concerned husband, but a command from an Alpha to his subordinate. The formal authority in his voice made my omega instincts want to submit, to bow my head and comply without question.

Instead, I straightened my spine.

"Of course, Alpha." The title tasted bitter on my tongue. "Congratulations on your pup."

I saw him flinch at the formality, saw pain flash across his features, but I didn't care anymore. I turned and walked out of the medical center, my head held high even as my world crumbled around me.

The pack house felt different as I made my way through the familiar corridors. Wolves I'd known for years avoided my gaze, their discomfort obvious. They could smell the discord between their Alpha and his mate, could sense the shift in pack dynamics. It made them nervous.

It should have made me nervous too. In the wolf world, a rejected mate faced exile or worse. But all I felt was numb.

I climbed the stairs to the apartment Marcus and I shared, each step feeling like I was walking to my own execution. The space that had once been our sanctuary now felt like a mausoleum of dead dreams.

On the kitchen counter sat a bottle of prenatal vitamins—not for me, but for Sophia. In the refrigerator, special foods to help with her supposed morning sickness. Even here, in what should have been our private space, she had marked her territory.

I sank onto our bed—no, his bed—and buried my face in my hands. Six years ago, Marcus had defied his father's wishes to claim me. Elder Blackwood had wanted him to mate with someone from a stronger pack, someone who could bring political advantages. But Marcus had insisted that true mates couldn't be chosen based on convenience.

"You're my heart, Elena," he'd whispered the night we completed our mating bond. "My soul. Nothing else matters."

But apparently, bloodline did matter. Pack politics did matter. And when faced with the choice between love and duty, Marcus had chosen duty.

The irony wasn't lost on me. I was a healer, someone who dedicated her life to helping others, to bringing new life into the world. Yet I couldn't even create life with my own mate.

A soft knock at the door interrupted my spiraling thoughts. "Elena? It's Dr. Hayes."

I wiped my eyes and opened the door to find the elderly pack doctor standing in the hallway, his kind brown eyes filled with concern.

"Are you alright, dear? You looked upset when you left the medical center."

Dr. Hayes had been like a father to me since I'd started working as his assistant five years ago. He'd taught me everything I knew about healing, had encouraged me to develop my natural gifts despite the pack's traditional views about omega roles.

"I'm fine," I lied.

"Hmm." He studied my face with the sharp gaze of someone who'd spent decades reading people. "You know, in my sixty years of practice, I've learned that the word 'fine' usually means anything but."

Despite everything, I felt my lips twitch upward. "Is that your professional medical opinion, Dr. Hayes?"

"Indeed it is." He smiled, then grew serious. "Elena, I know things are... complicated right now. But I want you to know that your value to this pack—to me—has nothing to do with your ability to bear children."

My throat tightened. "Marcus might disagree."

"Marcus is young and under tremendous pressure from his father. That doesn't excuse his choices, but..." Dr. Hayes sighed. "Sometimes good men make terrible decisions when they're caught between love and obligation."

"And sometimes," I whispered, "love isn't enough."

The old doctor's expression grew sad. "No, dear. Sometimes it isn't."

Dr. Hayes squeezed my shoulder one last time before stepping out into the hallway. I moved to lock the door, but my gaze snagged on Marcus’s tactical jacket thrown carelessly over the armchair near the window. He must have left it this morning in his rush to get to Sophia.

A glint of white paper poked out from the inner pocket.

I shouldn't have touched it. I should have respected his privacy, just as I’d respected his space for the last two years. But my wolf was clawing at my chest, agitated and restless. Driven by an instinct I couldn't name, I walked over and pulled the folded document free.

It was heavy, official stationery. The Shadowmoon Pack crest was embossed at the top.

“Petition for Dissolution of Mating Bond.” The letters swam before my eyes. “Grounds: Failure to produce an heir. Political instability.”

I sank onto the floor, the paper crinkling in my fist. I wasn't just his neglected wife. I was an obstacle he was preparing to remove. What exactly am I to him?