His Mistress

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~~ IRENE POV ~~

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Three years.

Three endless, suffocating years of pain.

I stared at my reflection in the copper pot as I scrubbed it, the soapy water stinging the raw cracks on my hands. The woman looking back wasn’t me. Her cheeks were hollow, her lips cracked, her eyes sunken in bruised shadows. The fiery-haired girl who once believed in love was dead. All that remained was this… shell. A ghost bound in flesh.

During female gatherings, the other she-wolves whispered behind my back, their giggles sharp as knives, calling me “the broken Luna.” Even the men, who once stared with hunger, now looked through me, like I were nothing.

I was nothing.

If I refused Trenton, the guards would pin me down.

If I swallowed a pill, he’d beat me until I bled.

If I tried to die, they’d drag me back and lock me in a room until I begged for freedom I’d never get.

Even my wolf, Kirsten, had left me. That fierce, loyal presence in my soul—the voice that once whispered strength—was gone. Silent. Dead.

I was an omega, the lowest of the low, but that didn’t mean my fire was gone. Defiance still burned in me, weak but stubborn. I hated Trenton, hated the man I’d once loved. I wanted to reject him, to scream it to the world, but an omega’s voice meant nothing. I was trapped, bound to him, my heart a graveyard for the love we’d had.

I worked in silence, scrubbing pots until my hands bled.

The omega maids circled me like vultures, their laughter biting. “Look at her, the mighty Luna,” one sneered, a blonde named Lila. “Scrubbing like a common dog.”

“Bet she thinks she’s still pretty,” another, Cora, said, tossing a rag at my head. It hit my face, and they laughed louder while the others watched, enjoying the show.

My jaw clenched, but I didn’t lift my head. What was the point? Fighting back had gotten me nothing but bruises, scars, and more nights on my back with tears choking me.

“Move, omega,” Lila snapped, shoving me aside to grab a knife. “You’re in the way. Always so slow.”

I stumbled, catching myself on the counter, my hands shaking. I wanted to scream, to shove her back, but I bit my tongue. Don’t react, I told myself. They want you to break.

Another maid, stirring a pot, suddenly snickered. “Amira would never let herself waste away like that. She's beautiful, smart, and intelligent. She’s from the strongest and biggest pack, you know. The Dark Howl pack. Her father is the Alpha king of all werewolve. She’s the one who should be our queen.”

I keep my head down, my teeth shaking. Amira.

Her name is a splinter in my heart, festering every time it’s spoken. I’ve never seen her, but she haunts me, a specter of everything I’m not. My fingers dig into palm, almost drawing blood. I want to scream, to hurl whatever my hand touches at their smug faces, but I swallow the anger.

“She’s got elegance in her blood,” a younger maid says, her voice softer, almost curious. “I saw Amira once, you know. At a gathering before she left. She… she looked like Irene. Same dark hair, same doe eyes. Like they could be sisters.”

My hands freeze. Sisters?

The word churns in my gut, heavy and sour. Is that why Trenton chose me? Because I was a pale imitation of her? A substitute to warm his bed while he waited for his true love? My heart twists, the pain so sharp it steals my breath.

Three years of his cruelty, his guards pinning me down when I refused him, his fists leaving bruises that never heal before new ones bloom. Three years of losing my babies—my precious lights—because of him, because of her shadow over my life. And now this. I’ve always been a placeholder!

“Luna,” one of the kitchen girl sneered, thrusting a tray of drinks at me. The glasses clinked, threatening to spill. “Take this upstairs to the Alpha and his friends. Try not to spill it, or you’ll lick the floor clean.”

Their laughter followed me as I staggered out, the tray trembling in my hands. My bones ached from years of torment, my body fragile, but I kept walking. The steps loomed ahead, and I forced myself upward one slow, painful climb at a time.

Halfway up, it happened.

A sudden impact slammed into me from the side. The tray slipped from my grasp, crashing to the marble floor. Glass shattered. Liquid splattered everywhere.

I fell, my knees hitting the stone ground, pain shooting through me.

“Trenton!” she screamed. “Help me!”

That voice. That name on her lips.

I froze. My vision blurred. My breath hitched in my throat.

No. No, it couldn’t be.

But it was.

Amira.

Her dark hair cascades over her shoulders, and I could barely ignore how her face a mirror of mine looked vibrant, beautiful, untouched by the misery that’s carved me hollow. She’s on the floor, clutching her arm like I’ve wounded her, her eyes gleaming with fake tears. She’d fallen too, sprawled on the floor like a victim.

White hot rage exploded in me, a fire I couldn’t control.

She's the woman who's stolen everything from me. The woman whose name haunted my nightmares. The woman for whom my children had died!

I lunged, a scream tearing from my throat, and tackled her. I straddled her belly, my fists flying, hitting her face, her chest.

“Bitch! You killed them!” I screamed, my voice raw. “My babies! You took them!”

Amira shrieked, trying to shield her face, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. The world was red. My nails clawed at her perfect skin, ripping through the illusion of her beauty, and for a fleeting second, it felt like justice.

She groaned, flailing under me, but I didn’t stop. “You’re a monster!” I yelled, tears blurring my vision. “You and him, you killed my children!” My hands burned, my knuckles splitting, but I kept hitting, lost in rage.

Footsteps thundered behind me. Gasps. Whispers. Shadows gathered at the edges of my vision as pack members crowded the hall, but none of them moved. Of course they didn’t. No one would ever stop a fight between the mistress and the omega wife. Not when the mistress was favored.

A hand like iron clamped around my wrist, yanking me back so hard I stumbled and crashed to my knees.

I thrashed, screaming, “Let me go!”

Before I could lift my head, pain exploded across my cheek.

A slap.

The taste of blood filled my mouth as my head whipped to the side. Tears stung my eyes—not from the pain, but from the man standing over me.

Trenton.

His face was twisted with fury, his blue eyes glacial.

“How dare you,” he growled, voice dripping venom. “You filthy omega.”

I stared up at him, my breath ragged, my cheek blazing where his hand had struck. Around us, whispers grew louder.

Amira whimpered, clutching her face, but I saw the glint in her eyes.

She’d won, again.

Trenton turned away from me, dropping to one knee beside Amira. His hands—those same hands that had broken me over and over—were gentle now as they cupped her face, checked her for bruises, his face twisted with worry. “Amira, are you alright?”

My stomach churned with humiliation so bitter it burned my throat. My tears slipped free, hot and silent, trailing down my hollow cheeks.

“I-I’m fine,” Amira said, her voice low, trembling, but her eyes flicked to me, sharp and smug. “She pushed me, Trent. I could’ve been hurt.”

Trenton’s head snapped toward me, his eyes cold. “Irene,” he growled, helping Amira to her feet. “You clumsy idiot. Look at this mess, you should apologize!”

I stood, my hands shaking, my voice hoarse but fierce. “Apologize?” I said, my voice breaking. “Shes the one wrong here and—”

“Enough!” Trenton barked, his hand gripping Amira’s arm like she was fragile. “You’re nothing but trouble, Irene. Always making excuses.”

Amira leaned into him, her lips curling slightly. “It’s okay, Trent,” she said, her voice sweet as poison. “She’s just… upset. You know how she is.”

I stared at her, my chest burning. She was the reason my pups were all dead. Each time I got pregnant, give birth, my pups were killed and used as remedy for her. She was the reason my life was hell. And now she was here, in my home, in his arms.

“You don’t belong here,” I whispered, my voice trembling with rage. “You took everything from me.”

Trenton’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your mouth, omega. If there's anyone who doesn't belong here, it's you,” he said, his voice loud and mocking. “And you will learn your place today.”

And then his voice cut through the air again, cold and sharp as steel.

“Hold her.”

Four maids surged forward, gripping my arms before I could move.

“No!” I screamed, thrashing wildly. “Let me go! LET ME GO!”

They dragged me toward the shattered glass littering the marble floor. Panic clawed at my chest as realization dawned.

“No, please!” My voice cracked as I kicked and fought like a madwoman. “Trenton, don’t—”

“Make her step on it,” he ordered.

The first shard bit into my foot, hot and sharp. Pain seared up my leg as blood spilled across the white floor, a crimson bloom spreading beneath me. My screams echoed down the corridor, mingling with the laughter of those who watched.

“Stop!” I sobbed as they forced me again, my body convulsing in agony. “Please, I—”

“Enough.”

His voice sliced through the chaos, and the maids froze. I collapsed in a trembling heap, my feet bleeding, my soul raw.

Trenton loomed over me, his shadow swallowing my broken form.

“You dirty, useless dog,” he said coldly. “You should be grateful I gave you a life worth living.”

And then he turned his back on me and offered his arm to Amira like I was nothing more than dirt beneath his shoes.

Amira smiled, small and cruel, as he led her away, the crowd dispersed, their whispers fading and their eyes staring at me with scorn and disdain.

I stood there, alone, humiliated, the broken glass glittering around me like my shattered life.

A tear slipped down my face, hot and bitter. I stood there, shaking, my gown torn, my body aching.

“You’ll pay for this. Both of you.”