Not Your Mistress, Just the Lycan Pups' Mommy

"Three years, and you still haven't taken a mate. You're obviously waiting for me to come back."

Three years ago, my delusional ex-Alpha threw me out of the pack like garbage—all for some so-called "prime Omega." Overnight I became a rogue, with nothing and no one.

Now he actually thought I'd spent all that time pining for him?

He'd never know I hadn't taken another Alpha because I was already bonded to the Lycan King himself—with pups already tearing across the estate on their chubby little legs.

I figured I'd never have to smell this expired trash again.

But today, he decided to show up and beg for death.

Fine by me. I'd grind that pathetic Alpha ego of his into dust myself.

"Calista, are you done with this little tantrum?"

My car had barely stopped in the underground garage of the mall when that insufferably smug voice drifted over.

Dorian leaned against my hood in a designer suit that wore him worse than he wore it, looking like every douchebag who ever posed next to a sports car in a cologne ad.

He tipped his chin up and let his Alpha pheromones bleed into the air—a cheap trick meant to force submission.

All I wanted was to file a complaint with building security. Since when did they let strays off the street?

"It's been three years." My silence convinced him his dominance was working, because his smirk deepened. "Three years since you left Bleakfang. You've rejected every wolf who came sniffing around—wouldn't even look at a Beta. Tell me that's not you waiting for me to take you back."

I almost laughed out loud.

I hadn't entertained those low-ranking wolves because I'd been mated to Lycan King Kazimir.

My nights were spent in the sprawling Silverspire Estate, spoiled rotten by the most powerful wolf alive, watching our pups wrestle on hand-woven rugs. Who'd go dumpster-diving for Dorian?

I shoved the car door open and stepped out without sparing him a glance. "Move."

Dorian shook his head with theatrical patience, plastering on a magnanimous expression that made my skin crawl.

"Still playing hard to get? I know choosing Elysia as Luna hurt you. But let's be realistic—she's a rare Omega. Her bloodline strengthens the pack. You? Just a stray with no name and no lineage."

He stepped closer, tone dripping with condescension.

"But I'll give you credit for loyalty. Apologize to Elysia and I might consider keeping you as a mistress. Under my protection, at least you won't have to scrounge for scraps like some feral dog."

I looked at that arrogant face and decided words were a waste of breath.

I swung.

Crack.

My open palm connected with his cheek so hard the sound ricocheted off the concrete walls.

The Lycan bond had changed me—strengthened me in ways Dorian couldn't begin to fathom. That slap carried every ounce of it.

He staggered sideways, his meticulously slicked-back hair collapsing into a bird's nest, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

"You—you hit me?!" He clutched his face, eyes blown wide.

"Was I supposed to schedule an appointment?" I yanked a wet wipe from my bag and scrubbed my fingers. "Me, your mistress? You couldn't afford me on your best day."

"Calista, you're dead!"

His eyes flashed crimson, and a crushing wave of Alpha dominance slammed into me—meant to force me to my knees.

Three years ago, that pressure would've crushed me. But now? I slept next to a pure-blood Lycan King whose aura alone could flatten an entire pack.

Dorian's little tantrum was a puppy yapping at a thunderstorm. Annoying, maybe. Threatening? Not even close.

I didn't flinch.

The frantic click of heels broke the silence.

"Dorian! You're bleeding!" Elysia rushed in wearing a pristine white dress, throwing herself into his arms with a breathy, theatrical sob.

After fussing over him, she turned on me, eyes glistening on cue.

"Calista, how could you? I know you're jealous Dorian chose me, but you can't force someone to love you. If you're struggling out there, I can ask Dorian to give you some money. Just please stop harassing him."

"Jealous?" A cold laugh escaped me. I tossed the soiled wipe at her feet. "Of your taste in garbage? That's one skill I'll never pick up."

"You—" Her face went white, then green.

She recovered fast, shrinking into Dorian's chest with a pitiful shiver. "Dorian, she scares me…"

He pulled her close and glared at me with murder in his eyes.

"You vulgar, unhinged woman. Since you insist on being ungrateful, don't blame me for what comes next. Our bonding ceremony is next month. I'll make sure you watch—so you can see exactly how much you've lost."

I rolled my eyes, slid back into the driver's seat, and lowered the window just enough for one last line.

"Save the theatrics. No one's buying it. Good dogs don't block the road. Move."

I floored the accelerator. The V8 roared to life, swallowing Dorian's impotent rage whole.

In the rearview mirror, I caught him and his little white flower choking on exhaust fumes, waving at the air. Lovely.

Feeling infinitely better, I dialed Kazimir.

He picked up before the first ring finished, that deep, velvety baritone pouring through the speakers.

"Sweetheart. I thought you were shopping at the mall. Miss me already?"

"Ran into a couple of strays. Killed the mood."

A beat of silence. When he spoke again, the warmth was gone, replaced by something lethally quiet. "Want me to send the Shadow Guard?"

"No need." I smiled. "I can handle it. Want me to bring you anything?"

"You could bring me a rock from the parking lot and I'd keep it on my nightstand."

I hung up and let the smile fade into something sharper.

Dorian, you'd better pray that bonding ceremony goes off without a hitch.

Because I'm going to deliver a gift you'll never forget.