My Mother's Face, My Mate's Mistress

The first time I pulled a pearl earring from Kaelen's pocket, my father stepped up to vouch for him: "That's a token left behind by the female Elder."

Later, when I found a lace choker stuffed in the cracks of the car seat, his deputy rushed to take the blame: "I bought that for my mate and left it with the Alpha for safekeeping."

Ever since then, whenever I caught a slip-up, someone close to me would jump out to cover for him.

For the tenth time, I confronted him about the distinct scent of an Omega's heat pheromones on his jacket.

"How do you explain this scent?"

Kaelen stiffened for a fraction of a second, then seamlessly dialed my best friend's number.

"Maya, when we were doing the accounts last night, did you spill perfume on my coat?"

Maya answered without missing a beat: "Yeah! Half my new bottle leaked. Is Elara being paranoid again? If she keeps throwing these tantrums, you might as well cancel the mating ceremony."

Hanging up, Kaelen put on the pained look of a wrongly accused man:

"Clear now? If you're going to keep up these ridiculous interrogations, maybe this ceremony..."

"Agreed. Let's just cancel it," I cut him off coldly.

What Kaelen didn't know was that the scent on him wasn't a flaw left by his mistress.

It was a black-market pheromone perfume I'd secretly sprayed on his jacket as bait.

I did it to see just how flawlessly my closest kin—from my father to my best friend—could cover up his betrayal.

......

"Over some imaginary scent?!" Kaelen grabbed my wrist, his grip tight enough to make my bones ache. "Don't push it, Elara!

Do you know how much I've sacrificed for this pack? For you? And now you want to ruin everything over this absurd excuse?"

Kaelen was my fated mate. We were less than three days away from our final soul-marking ceremony.

If I didn't set this trap to tear off his mask, I'd be bound to him for the rest of my life.

The absolute collapse of everything started at last night's family dinner.

"Elara, you've been working so hard preparing for the ceremony. Eat up." At dinner, Kaelen handed me a slice of neatly cut steak.

But staring at the meat on my plate, my stomach twisted in a violent cramp.

Because I couldn't even count how many times I had caught that sickeningly sweet peach scent on him, mixed with the distinct, sour musk of post-mating.

"Where were you this afternoon?" I stared at him. "Why do you smell like another Omega in heat?"

The dining table fell dead silent.

Hiding the panic in her eyes, Maya perfectly timed her intervention: "Elara, you're overthinking it. He and I were on patrol together this afternoon. He probably picked up the scent from a merchant in the market. I promise you, he hasn't done anything wrong."

My father slammed his wine glass down, barking harshly: "Put away this petty jealousy! Kaelen works day and night for this pack, and here you are making wild accusations. You're disgracing the Silas family!"

The mate I deeply loved, the best friend I trusted, the father I respected—they all collaborated flawlessly, guarding against me as if I were a madwoman.

That night, fighting back despair, I searched through the jacket Kaelen had taken off. From a deeply hidden inner pocket, I pulled out a crumpled pair of lace panties.

There was barely any fabric to them, and they were stained with dried fluids, reeking of that nauseating peach scent.

That glaring, filthy piece of fabric completely burst the blister of my so-called "happiness."

So this morning, I didn't confront him with the panties. Instead, I set up the perfume trap—because even if I handed them a pair of women's panties, they'd probably lie their way out of it without batting an eye.

Faced with my decision to cancel the ceremony, Kaelen finally ripped off his hypocritical mask.

"I've already told the temple to clear out," I looked at him with dead eyes. "You can explain it to the other packs yourself."

"Are you serious?" He clenched his fists, roaring furiously. "You need to see a pack healer for your head! Even with Maya backing me up, you still think I'm lying? If we don't even have basic trust, what's the point of this bond!"

Just as he finished speaking, the bone whistle at his waist chimed. The second he glanced at the terminal message, his fury instantly morphed into frantic urgency.

"There's a border security issue. Stay in your room and reflect on your behavior. I'll pretend this morning's little tantrum never happened."

He snatched his jacket off the back of the chair and stormed out, slamming the door.

But he left in such a rush that a small card slipped out and fluttered to the floor.

I walked over calmly and bent down to pick up the unsigned invitation.

It was made of cheap, coarse paper with jagged edges, and across it ran a single line of text:

[West Sector Outskirts. Full Moon Blessing Ceremony for Lyra and Kaelen's Pup.]

Lyra.

That name was all too familiar.

Lyra was a rogue Omega who had wandered into our territory a few months ago. With her pathetic, helpless demeanor, she quickly garnered the sympathy of many in the pack. Even my notoriously xenophobic father had made an exception, allowing her to settle on the fringes of our land.

Gripping the invitation, that cloying peach scent seemed to surge in my nostrils once more.

I vividly remembered that when Lyra was first brought into the pack, she reeked of the exact same sickeningly sweet peach pheromones.

I let out a cold laugh. I was absolutely certain now; this was the answer hiding in the shadows.

The filthy truth that my entire pack had gone to such lengths to protect, even if it meant gaslighting me into madness, was hiding right there in the woods of the West Sector.