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After My Mate Scent-Marked His Mistress, I Rejected Him Novel Cover

After My Mate Scent-Marked His Mistress, I Rejected Him

When Elara discovers her fated mate has scent-marked a mistress, her world shatters. This ultimate betrayal by her Alpha forces her to make a heartbreaking choice. Refusing to be a second thought, she invokes the ancient rite of rejection to reclaim her freedom. As she flees the pack that failed her, Elara must navigate the dangerous fallout of her defiance. Can she find a new path and true love after breaking the sacred bond that once defined her life?
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Chapter 1

The freezing rain of the Silver Lake territory didn’t just soak you; it bit straight through to the marrow. I shifted back into my human form at the edge of the clearing, my knees buckling slightly as my feet hit the muddy earth. Steam rose from my naked skin, mingling with the metallic scent of fresh blood and the pine-heavy air.

I was Valentina Ross, the Lead Tracker of this pack, and I had just spent three days in a blizzard hunting an elk that had strayed too close to the border. It was a kill that would feed the elders for a week, but right now, all I could feel was the throbbing gash on my thigh where a rogue branch had sliced me open miles ago.

I dragged the carcass to the drop-off point for the Delta butchers, shivering violently. I needed warmth. I needed care. I needed my mate.

“Oliver,” I whispered, stumbling toward our cabin. It was a beautiful structure, modern and sleek, paid for entirely by my tracking bonuses. I had mind-linked him hours ago that I was coming in injured. Surely, he had a fire going. Maybe a hot meal.

I pushed open the front door, expecting the scent of comfort. Instead, I was hit by the stale odor of pepperoni and old grease.

The living room was a disaster. Expensive takeout containers—paid for with my credit card—littered the floor. And there, sprawled across the Italian leather sofa I had saved six months to buy, was Oliver. He was asleep, the TV blaring a game show. He looked peaceful, his brown hair messy, not a care in the world while I had been freezing to death.

“Oliver?” I croaked, limping into the room.

He stirred, groaning as he stretched his arms. He didn't rush to me. He didn't look at the blood running down my leg. He just wrinkled his nose.

“Ugh, Val,” he muttered, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “You smell like wet dog. Couldn’t you have showered at the communal block before coming in?”

The comment hit me harder than the cold. I stood there, naked and shivering, holding a towel I’d grabbed from the entryway. “I’m hurt, Oliver. The storm was brutal. I thought you’d—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the big tough tracker,” he interrupted, reaching for a slice of cold pizza. “Hey, did you remember to pick up my dry cleaning on your way back? The gala is this weekend, and I need that suit if I’m going to sit with the Beta.”

My heart sank. I was bleeding on the rug I bought, and he was worried about a suit he didn't pay for. “I… I came straight here,” I whispered.

He rolled his eyes, flopping back down. “Great. Now I have to go get it. You’re so dramatic sometimes, Val.”

I didn’t have the energy to fight. I never did. I just limped to the shower, telling myself he was just tired. He didn’t mean it.

The next morning, the illusion of my life shattered completely.

I was summoned to the Pack House before I could even finish my coffee. Alpha Garrett sat behind his mahogany desk, his face like thunder. To my left stood Harlow Munoz. She was a petite Omega with wide, innocent eyes that fooled everyone but me. She was Oliver’s “childhood friend,” a woman who constantly needed money, rides, and attention.

“Valentina Ross,” Alpha Garrett boomed. “You are accused of grand theft.”

My jaw dropped. “Alpha? I don’t understand.”

He slammed a stack of papers onto the desk. “Inventory logs. Medical supplies. High-grade wolfsbane suppressants and healing salves. All missing. All accessed with *your* personal security code.”

“That’s impossible,” I stammered, panic rising in my throat. “I was on a hunt for three days! Check the logs!”

“The theft happened four days ago,” Garrett growled. “Just before you left.”

I looked at Harlow. She was wringing her hands, tears shimmering in her eyes. “I didn’t want to say anything, Alpha,” she whimpered, her voice trembling perfectly. “But… I saw Val meeting with some strange wolves near the border last week. They looked like rogues. I think… I think she’s selling our supplies.”

“That is a lie!” I screamed, stepping toward her. “Harlow, how could you?”

“Enough!” The Alpha’s command slammed me into silence. “Valentina, you are stripped of your rank immediately. You are confined to your home until the Council decides your punishment. Get out of my sight.”

I ran. I ran all the way back to the cabin, my chest heaving, tears blurring my vision. I needed Oliver. He would fix this. He knew Harlow was lying. He knew I was loyal.

I burst into the house. Oliver was in the kitchen, drinking a smoothie.

“Oliver!” I grabbed his arm, hysterical. “They stripped my rank! Harlow… she lied to the Alpha! She said I stole medical supplies! You have to come with me to the Alpha. Tell him I would never do that!”

Oliver didn’t look angry on my behalf. He didn’t look shocked. He looked… annoyed.

He pulled his arm away from my grip. “Val, calm down. You’re acting crazy.”

“Crazy? I’m being framed!”

“Are you?” He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Harlow wouldn’t lie about something this serious. Maybe you did it and you just don’t remember. You’ve been working so hard lately, maybe you snapped.”

I stared at him, the air leaving my lungs. “What? You think I’m a thief?”

“I think you’re being territorial and dramatic because you don’t like Harlow,” he said coldly. “She’s just trying to help the pack.”

“She framed me!” I shouted, my wolf rising to the surface in agitation. “You need to defend me, Oliver! You are my mate!”

His eyes flashed, not with love, but with a petty desire for control. He straightened his spine, inhaling deeply to summon his authority.

**“Sit down, Valentina.”**

It was his Alpha tone. It was weak, pathetic compared to a real leader, but because of the mate bond, it slammed into me like a physical blow. My knees hit the floor against my will. The humiliation burned hotter than the brand of a rogue.

He looked down at me, a smug satisfaction on his face. “Stop making a scene,” he said, stepping over my kneeling form to grab his keys. “If you want to fix this, just go apologize to the Alpha and admit you made a mistake. I’m going to Harlow’s. She’s upset that she had to testify against you, and she needs a friend.”

He walked out the door, leaving me kneeling on the kitchen floor, the silence of the house screaming the truth I had ignored for seven years.

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