Stolen by My Real Mate

Gen's POV

"Mama, I want cotton candy!"

The word hit me like a physical blow. I stood frozen at the edge of the amusement park carousel, watching my five-year-old son's face light up as he called another woman 'mama.'

Not me. Isla.

My husband's secretary held Sebastian on one of the painted horses, her arms wrapped around him like he belonged to her. Dominic stood beside them, his hand resting possessively on her back. They looked like a family.

A perfect family that didn't include me.

"Dominic!" I ran toward them, my heels clicking frantically on the pavement. My fingers dug into his arm. "What is this? Explain this to me!"

Sebastian's smile vanished. He pressed against Isla's legs, his small face crumpling with fear. "Daddy, she's scary. Make her go away."

The ground tilted beneath my feet.

"There's nothing to explain," Dominic said, removing my hand from his arm like I was something distasteful. "This is reality, Genevieve. You should leave."

Isla gathered Sebastian into her arms, her expression perfectly sympathetic. "Madam, please don't frighten our child."

Our child.

I dropped to my knees in front of Sebastian, reaching for him with shaking hands. "Baby, it's me. I'm your mama. Remember?"

"No!" He shoved at my hands with surprising force. "You're not my mama! Isla is! I don't want you!"

The carousel music played cheerfully while my world ended.

Now, hours later, the city lights of Oakhaven blurred into streaks of gold and white as I stumbled down the empty street. Eleven o'clock at night. My fingers wrapped around the neck of an empty wine bottle, the third one I'd drained since leaving that park.

I was still wearing the cream suit I'd put on this morning—back when I still thought today might be different. Now the fabric clung to my skin, stained with wine and streaked with mud from when I'd fallen outside that bar three blocks back.

My chestnut hair hung in tangled strands around my face. When I caught my reflection in a darkened shop window, I barely recognized the woman staring back. Those deep violet eyes that Dominic once said reminded him of twilight now looked hollow. Empty.

I passed the Sterling Tower, its glass facade reaching toward the sky. I'd walked past this building a thousand times during my college years at Oakhaven Institute of Technology, back when I thought my finance degree would change my life.

Six years ago, I'd married Dominic through an arrangement between our families. I'd thrown myself into helping him manage Whitmore Development Group, restructuring their failing investment portfolio, securing partnerships that tripled their revenue within two years.

That was the problem. I'd been too good.

The board started listening to me instead of him. Clients requested me by name. And Dominic—Alpha, heir, the man who was supposed to command respect—couldn't handle his wife outshining him.

So he took it all away. Stripped my position. Told everyone I wanted to focus on family. Tossed me aside in a forgotten corner of the estate while he claimed credit for every strategy I'd built.

I should have known then.

A mangy stray dog emerged from the alley ahead, its ribs visible beneath matted fur. It stopped when it saw me, hackles rising. Then it started barking—sharp, aggressive sounds that echoed off the buildings.

I stood there, swaying slightly, and stared at the animal.

Even a starving dog was rejecting me.

Something inside me snapped.

I hurled the wine bottle at the pavement near the dog's paws. Glass exploded across the concrete in a shower of glittering shards. The dog yelped and bolted back into the darkness.

"That's right!" I screamed after it. "Run! Everyone runs from me! Even the goddamn strays!"

My voice cracked on the last word. My knees hit the pavement, glass crunching beneath them.

"Even they don't want me," I whispered to the empty street.

I tilted my head back and screamed at the sky. A passing couple hurried away, the woman throwing frightened glances back at me.

"Why?!" I shouted at the moon hanging fat and full above the city. "Why did you do this to me?!"

No answer came.

I felt the shift building inside me, that primal pull that every werewolf learned to control. But I didn't want control anymore. I wanted to run.

My bones began to crack and reshape. My cream suit tore as my body contorted, the fabric ripping away. The transformation hurt more than it should have—I was fighting it and surrendering to it at the same time.

When I finally stood on four legs, my reflection in a puddle showed a thin, gray-brown wolf with dull fur and eyes that held too much human despair.

I ran. Through the streets, past the last buildings at the city's edge, into the scrubland beyond. My paws hit the ground in rhythm with my racing heart. The moon hung ahead of me like a promise, and I chased it without thinking, just running toward that silver light.

I didn't notice when the ground began to slope upward. Didn't register the sound of waves crashing below. My body was failing, but I kept running until suddenly there was nowhere left to run.

The cliff edge appeared before me. I skidded to a stop, pebbles tumbling over the side and disappearing into darkness.

I shifted back to human form without meaning to, my body too exhausted to maintain the wolf shape. I collapsed naked on the cold stone, my skin covered in thin cracks that wept blood from the forced shift.

"I can't reach you," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "I'll never reach you. Never be good enough. Never be wanted."

"That was my husband," I said to the silent sky, my voice breaking. "My son. You gave them to me and then you let them be stolen."

Tears ran down my face. "Why? What did I do to deserve this?"

Clouds drifted across the moon's face. No answer came.

I laughed, but this time the sound was bitter. "Of course. Silence."

My legs trembled as I stood, moving closer to the edge. The wind whipped my hair around my face, carrying the salt smell of the ocean below. I spread my arms wide.

"Genevieve," I whispered. "It means 'free,' doesn't it? Born free."

I closed my eyes and leaned forward.

The roar that split the night was so loud, so full of rage, that for a moment I thought the moon had finally answered. My eyes snapped open as my body fell, the ground disappearing beneath me.

Then I smelled it—pine and cold mountain air, wild and clean.

Something massive and warm caught me mid-fall, its powerful claws digging into the cliff face to halt our deadly descent. A voice—deep, absolute—crashed through my mind like thunder.

"Don't you dare die! I command you to live!"