His Father's Mate

　　I should have known something was wrong when the pavilion lights were still on at 1:17 a.m.

　　By tradition, the place should have been empty—dark, silent, waiting for tomorrow's vows. Instead, golden light leaked from backstage, and low, breathy sounds drifted out. Laughter. A growl. A voice I knew too well.

　　My heart pounded so hard it hurt. My palms went slick against my phone as I clutched it like a weapon, like if I held it tight enough I could stop whatever was happening before it became real. I told myself it was nothing—decorators working late, a lost guest, anything but what my gut was already screaming.

　　I crept closer anyway. Because I had to know. Because Cassian had never given me a single reason not to trust him. Because four years of I love you's and fated-mate promises couldn't end with a half-open door and bad lighting.

　　The side door was cracked. I pushed it open a little just to see inside clearly.

　　And everything I'd built my future around shattered.

　　Cassian—my Cassian—had Lyra pinned against the wall, her legs wrapped around him, my wedding dress bunched up around her hips like it belonged to her. The lace train dragged across the dusty floor with every thrust.

　　I couldn't breathe. My chest caved in, ribs squeezing so tight I thought I might crack. It felt like my whole body was trying to reject what I was seeing.

　　He buried his face in her neck, voice rough with lust. "Fuck… you feel so good."

　　Lyra laughed breathlessly. "Better than your little human ever could?"

　　The words felt like a slap I didn't see coming.

　　My knees buckled. I grabbed the doorframe to keep myself from falling. Everything felt too bright, too loud, too real. I wanted to scream, to run, to disappear, but my feet were rooted. Couldn't look away. Couldn't unsee the way his hands gripped her thighs greedily.

　　They hadn't noticed me yet.

　　They were too lost in each other, too wrapped up in the lie they'd built while I was home folding lingerie and blushing at Nova's teasing.

　　Just hours ago I'd been standing in front of my mirror, holding up that white lace set Nova had shoved into my suitcase with a wicked grin. "Trust me, Aria," she'd said, "Cassian's eyes are going to fall out of his head when he sees you in this tomorrow night."

　　I'd blushed like an idiot, folded it carefully, tucked it away with the rest of my dreams; the dress bags, the shoes, the little gifts for his pack family. Tomorrow we'd graduate, marry, and finally be official. He'd chosen me—his fated mate, the human girl from the slums who somehow ended up with the golden-boy werewolf. He'd promised me everything: safety for Dad's treatment, a place in his world, a future where I didn't have to fight alone.

　　Nova had sprawled on my bed, teasing me about blushing like a virgin. I'd thrown a pillow at her, laughing. She'd caught it mid-air—werewolf reflexes—and warned me gently about Lyra hanging around Cassian too much lately. I'd brushed it off. "Lyra is just friendly," I'd said. "And Cassian loves me. The bond confirmed it the moment we met."

　　I'd believed every word.

　　Now those words were haunting me.

　　Cassian thrust harder, growling low. "She is just a means to an end. The bond will strengthen me. Make me look perfect in front of Father tomorrow. Once I secure the rank, I can keep you on the side as long as I want. She will never know."

　　Lyra moaned, nails raking down his back. "Do you love her?"

　　He stilled for half a heartbeat. Then he pulled back, looked Lyra dead in the eye, and sneered.

　　"Love a human? She is weak. Pathetic. Always clinging to me like I'm her savior." He drove into her again, roughly. "I'm doing her a favor."

　　The rage boiled over.

　　I shoved the door open so hard it slammed against the wall.

　　They froze.

　　Cassian's head whipped toward me, eyes wide with shock. Lyra's smug smile faltered for half a second before curling again.

　　"Aria—" Cassian started, pulling out and fumbling with his pants.

　　I couldn't hear him over the roaring in my ears.

　　"You bastard," I whispered. Then louder; "You fucking bastard!"

　　Lyra slid down the wall, adjusting the ruined dress like it was hers. "Oh honey. Didn't anyone tell you that eavesdropping is rude?"

　　I strode forward, shaking with fury and grief. "That is my dress. My wedding. My life you are ruining."

　　Cassian stepped in front of her, hands raised. "Baby, listen—this isn't what—"

　　"Don't." My voice cracked like ice. "I heard everything. Every word."

　　His face paled. For a moment guilt flickered—but then his jaw hardened. "Fine. You heard. So what? You need me, Aria. Your father needs me. Marry me tomorrow like planned, and I will still give you everything—money, medicine, status. You can even have my children. Just… look the other way."

　　Look the other way.

　　I laughed—a broken, ugly sound that didn't feel like mine. Then I slapped him.

　　The crack echoed. His head snapped to the side, a red mark blooming instantly.

　　Lyra gasped dramatically. "How dare—"

　　I slapped her too. Harder.

　　She stumbled back, clutching her cheek.

　　I grabbed the wedding dress off the floor—my beautiful, ruined dress—and threw it down, grinding my heel into the stained lace.

　　"You are disgusting," I spat. "Both of you. All your pretty words, Cassian—every 'I love you,' every promise—was this what you meant? Using me? Mocking me?"

　　He reached for me. "Aria, wait—"

　　I pulled the engagement ring off my finger and hurled it at his face. It bounced off his cheekbone.

　　"I'm so disappointed in you," I said, voice trembling but clear. "I trusted you with everything. And you threw it away for… this."

　　Something raw flashed across his face—pain? Regret? But it vanished behind anger.

　　"You will regret this," he growled. "You need me."

　　"I'd rather die."

　　He lunged to grab my arm—too fast, too strong. His shove sent me stumbling back, shoulder slamming into a metal rack. Pain exploded down my side.

　　For a second guilt crossed his eyes again. Then he shielded Lyra behind him like I was the threat.

　　I backed away, tears burning but refusing to fall.

　　"I won't be there tomorrow," I said. "I will never love you again."

　　And I ran.

　　Into the cold night, away from the pavilion, away from the man I thought I knew.

　　Away from the future that had just crumbled into ashes.